*J 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 %'*
 
 \
 
 ^stematic Cbucatton: 
 
 ELEMENTARY INSTRUCTION 
 
 THE VARIOUS DEPARTMENTS 
 
 OF 
 
 LITERATUR'E AND SCIENCE; 
 
 practical Battles 
 
 FOR STUr'MNO 
 
 EACH BRANCH OF USEFUL KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 By the Rev. W. SHEPHERD, 
 The Rev. J. JOYCE, ^ ' 
 
 And the Rev. LANT CARPENTER, LL. 
 
 IN TW0 VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 ILorilron; 
 
 PRINTED FOR LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND 
 BROWN, PATERNOSTER-ROW. 
 
 1815.
 
 i. M'Creerjr, Printer, BUck-Hort>-Coart, 
 London,
 
 ^ U6 
 
 Lois 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 
 1 HE important period of human life, which com- 
 ^mences when young persons are freed from the 
 .^restraint of school discipline, is often ill spent, for 
 want of some useful object of mental pursuit. The 
 living instructor is, perhaps, not at hand to point 
 out a course of study; and many an ingenuous 
 youth falls into the habit of desultory and baneful 
 reading, who, with proper guidance, might have 
 formed a decided taste for the acquisition of whole- 
 some knowledge, in the prosecution of which he 
 might have improved his mind, and have been pre- 
 served from frivolity and vice. Influenced by these 
 considerations, the Authors of *' Systematic Educa- 
 tion" have had it in view to supply those, who are 
 between sixteen and twenty-five years of age, with 
 such guidance. They have endeavoured to offer 
 such elementary instruction as may afford a good 
 preparative for future reading, and to point out the 
 best sources of farther information on the subjects 
 of which they treat. It has been their aim to 
 compress within a narrow compass, a great fund 
 of important knowledge, which could only be 
 obtained by the perusal of a multitude of volumes j 
 
 6-11565 
 
 O
 
 iv ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 and they flatter themselves that, on some topics, 
 their Elements will supply materials for instruction 
 not unworthy the attention of the Preceptor, 
 who may be engaged in conducting the studies of 
 pupils somewhat advanced in scholastic attain- 
 ments. 
 
 As they have endeavoured to give a correct and 
 familiar introduction to the principal departments 
 of scientific and literary inquiry, they are not 
 without hopes that their work will be found an 
 useful text-book in those schools where instruction 
 comprehends other objects besides the Classics; 
 and that it will be of eminent service to those 
 young persons in the process of whose early edu- 
 cation the Classics have been almost the exclusive 
 subject of attention. 
 
 This exposition of the work now offered to the 
 public would be abundantly sufficient, if it fell 
 into the hands only of the uninitiated, and of those 
 who are engaged in the business of instructing 
 others. For the former, it is believed, it may be 
 reckoned a safe, if not an ample guide to useful 
 and important knowledge : the latter require no 
 apology, they know the difficulties of compressing 
 into a small compass, a syllabus even, of a great 
 variety of subjects. From both these classes, 
 therefore, the authors of " Systematic Education" 
 expect a candid reception. 
 
 To the learned and the critic they have nothing 
 to offer : their aim was to supply a work, which, 
 as far as they know, has hitherto been unattempt- 
 ed, that might assist the unskilful, not only as a
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. V 
 
 guide to what they wished to pursue, but such a 
 one as should afford them a choice of subjects 
 from which they might select subjects adapted 
 to their taste, their acquirements, or their 
 wants ; and having made their election, they will 
 find the introductory principles laid down, ex- 
 plained and exemplified, and a course of study 
 pointed out, with references to such elementary 
 works as may be adapted to their wishes, and to 
 the time they have to devote to literature and 
 science. With such views, to have attempted any 
 thing like deep learning, or profound research, 
 would have been out of place. While they 
 have avoided this error, they have kept clear from 
 giving mere abridgments, with which they could 
 have readily filled their volumes at a small expense 
 of time. From works of their own, already be- 
 fore the public, in some shape or other, they have, 
 on some few occasions, freely borrowed, and in a 
 few instances from those of others ; but, in every 
 case, it is believed, full and constant references are 
 given, and due acknowledgments are made for the 
 advantages which they have derived, and which 
 they wished their readers to derive from this line of 
 conduct. 
 
 Having thus briefly detailed the objects and plan 
 of their Work, they respectfully submit the deci- 
 sion, as to its merits in point of execution, to the 
 candour of an enlightened public.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 OF 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 Page 
 Introduction, containing a Practical Essay on 
 Education . . ^. . 1 
 
 Chap. I. On the Study of the Belles Lettres . . 35 
 II. On Language 49 
 
 III. On Grammar 62 
 
 IV. Continued 86 
 
 V. Structure of Sentences 103 
 
 VI. Continued . .114 
 
 VII. Continued . .123 
 
 Vin. On Taste . ; 133 
 
 IX. On Figurative Language 144 
 
 X. Continued . 154 
 
 XI. Prose Composition l67 
 
 XII. On Poetry 176 
 
 XIII. Continued 187 
 
 XIV. Continued . . . , . .197- 
 
 XV. On Elocution 212 
 
 XVI. Method of studying the Belles Lettres 226 
 
 XVII. On'History . 240 
 
 XVIII. Ancient History 258 
 
 > -
 
 ^1" CONTENTS. 
 
 Page 
 
 Chaf. XIX. Modern History 272 
 
 XX. On Geographj/ 296 
 
 XXI. Continued .... 316 
 
 XXII. Jncient Geography 330 
 
 XXIII. On Chronology 340 
 
 XXIV. Continued . . . .357 
 
 XXV. Continued .... 370 
 
 XXVI. On the British Constitution . . . 385 
 
 XXVII. Continued 399 
 
 XXVllI. Mathematics, Arithmetic . . . .414 
 
 XXIX. Jlgebra 433 
 
 XXX. Geometry . . . . .457 
 
 XXXI. Trigonometry . . .476 
 
 XXXII. Conic Sections, Flux- 
 ions, Chances, S^c 493 
 
 XXXIII. Navigation, Mensura- 
 tion, Surveying, and Dialling . .517 
 
 Directions to the Binder. 
 
 Vol. I. Plate Mathematics, . to face p. 540 
 II. I. Mechanics . . '' i6 
 
 II. Hydrostatics and 
 
 Pneumatics . 44 
 
 III. Optics .... 74 
 
 IV. Electricity and 
 
 VOLTAISM . . . 104 
 
 V. Astronomy . . 136 
 
 ^ VI. Chemistry . . . 174 
 
 VII. &VIII. Structure and Func- 
 tions OF MAN. . 567 & 568
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 PRACTICAL ESSAY ON EDUCATION. 
 
 IN nothing is man more eminently distinguished from the 
 inferior animals, than in the capacity of incrawng in know- 
 ledge. The process of instinct is, indeed, rapid, and its results 
 are perfect in their kind ; but those results are limited within 
 comparatively narrow boundaries. Though various species 
 of birds construct their nests with exquisite skill, in the man- 
 ner which is best adapted to their habits, and to the promotion 
 of their security, yet from generation to generation the mode 
 of their construction is exactly the same. The bee is no 
 sooner furnished with wings, than it speeds its flight in quest 
 of its proper food; which it stores up in cells, that, from 
 the commencement of time, have been uniform in size and 
 in figure. Not so with man. The degrees and the species 
 of art and skill exhibited by the human race, are almost infi- 
 nitely varied ; and a long space of time must intervene before 
 any individual can attain to that measure of knowledge which 
 he is capable of acquiring. This apparent disadvantage, how- 
 ever, is amply compensated by the wide range allowed to 
 human intellect ; and by the capacity of mental improvement, 
 which is continued almost through the whole of life ; and, 
 which, though it may be apparently suspended by the infirmi- 
 ties incident to extreme old age, and by the common doom 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 of mortality, will, as it is hoped, and as we are taught to 
 believe, be continued through the endless ages of eternity. 
 Upon this subject, how beautiful, and at the same time how 
 rational, are the speculations of Addison : " There is not, in 
 my opinion, a more pleasing and triumphant consideration 
 in religion, than this, of the perpetual progress which the 
 soul makes toward the perfection of its nature, without ever 
 arriving at a period in it. To look upon the soul as going 
 on from strength to strength ; to consider that she is to 
 shine for ever with new accessions of glory, and brighten 
 to all eternity ; that she will be still adding virtue to virtue, 
 and knowledge to knowledge ; carries in it something won- 
 derfully agreeable to that ambition which is natural to the 
 mind of man. Nay, it must be a prospect pleasing to God 
 himself, to see his creation for ever beautifying in his eyes, 
 and drawing nearer to Him by greater degrees of resem- 
 blance." 
 
 It is a striking circumstance, that a being who is bom to 
 this high destiny, should, after the period of his birth, continue 
 in a state of helplessness for a longer space of time than any 
 other creature. With relation to man, it may truly, and empha- 
 tically be said, tliat perfection is of tardy growth. The beasts 
 of the field are soon enabled to provide for themselves their 
 proper sustenance and shelter ; and when they are arrived at 
 this stage of maturity, they either voluntarily and peaceably 
 quit, or are forcibly driven from, the protection of the authors 
 of their being. The same law holds good w ith respect to the 
 fowls of the air, and other tribes of inferior beings. But with 
 regard to man, how long does the imbecility of infancy de- 
 mand the solicitude of parental care ! For how lengthened a 
 season does the ignorance, the inexperience, the levity, and 
 the rashness of youth, occupy the vigilant attention of guar- 
 dians, instructors, and friends. Even in more advanced life, 
 what lessons remain to be learnt in the severe school of expe- 
 rience, how many errors remain to be corrected by the pain- 
 ful progress of events. Thus feeble in his outset is the Lord
 
 PRACTICAL ESSAY ON EDUCATION. 3 
 
 of the Creation thus unpromising is the commencement of 
 a career of improvement which admits of continual advance. 
 
 However high and capacious* then are the powers which 
 " lie folded up in man," it seems to be the law of nature, 
 or to speak more correctly, it seems to be the will of our all- 
 wise Creator, that those powers must be expanded by de- 
 grees, and that their expansion must be effected by the pro- 
 cess of education. 
 
 In one sense indeed, and that a very important one, the 
 process of Education is perpetually going forward. Man, 
 regarded as a moral agent, and an accountable being, is a 
 compound of habits. According as his habits are good or 
 bad, he is to be esteemed or qualified as virtuous or vicious. 
 Now it is a matter of common observation, that the habits of 
 an individual are generally formed in consequence of the pre- 
 cepts with which he is imbued and in a much greater degree, 
 in consequence of the examples which are presented for his 
 imitation. Whosoever, therefore, is under the influence either 
 of the conduct, or of the principles of others, (and who is 
 not under such influence ?) may be justly said to be so far edu- 
 cated by them to moral good or ill. Much is it to be wished, 
 that those who are interested in the welfare of youth, would 
 attend to this most serious maxim. It would preserve them 
 from many pernicious errors, and would convince them of 
 the folly of entertaining unreasonable and inconsistent expec- 
 tations. Such is the homage which vice pays to virtue, that 
 many a parent, who is himself by no means scrupulous of 
 violating the rules of morality, is startled at the idea of early 
 profligacy in his ofi'spring. With a view of promoting the 
 mental improvement of his son, he provides for him instruc- 
 tors in various departments of knowledge. He spares no 
 expense to promote his progress in science. He is anxious 
 to receive what he imagines he is entitled to expect as the 
 fruit of his parental attention and care. But he is disappoint- 
 ed.. The child of his hopes, instead of a prodigy of learning 
 and of knowledge, is, when far advanced in the season of 
 
 B 2
 
 4 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 youth, found to be deplorably ignorant, self-willed, and un-. 
 tractable. He despises the idea of qualifying himself by use- 
 ful studies, to adorn the station in life which his birth and 
 his fortune entitle him to occupy. He is given up to frivolity, 
 and, having no good qualities, no estimable accomplishments 
 to recommend him to honourable notice, he glories in his 
 vices, and makes a public spectacle of his depravity. Shocked 
 and disgusted, the mortified parent vents his feelings in exe- 
 crations against the indolence and unfaithfulness of tutors and 
 preceptors, when in reality he himself is alone to blame. His 
 manners may have been comparatively decent, but he has 
 unfortunately disregarded the maxim of the stern satirist, 
 
 Maxima debetur paero reverentia. 
 
 He has thoughtlessly permitted his offspring to witness hia 
 irregularities and by this combination of wickedness and 
 folly, he has at an early age blunted in his child the sense of 
 moral obligation. In the pursuit of what he deemed allow- 
 able amusements, he has permitted the heir of his fortune to 
 associate, under little or no restraint, with cunning and pro- 
 fligate domestics, who were ever ready to minister to the 
 vices oi their superiors. Thus has he in fact trained him up 
 in low ideas and to mean pursuits, and yet he wonders at his 
 unworthy and unbecoming propensities. But his wonder 
 would cease, could he penetrate the mikt winch is poured 
 before the mental eye by the power of self-partiality. Then 
 would he be sensible of the capital error into which he has 
 unconsciously fallen ; and, however unpleasant the truth might 
 be, he would be convinced, that his ideas on tlie subject of 
 the training of youth have been incorrect, and inadequate, 
 and that the miserable and disgraceful scenes which he ha,s 
 witnessed with so much pain and concern, are the conse- 
 quences the natiu'al and necessary consequences of his son's 
 education having been conducted more in the orgies of his 
 father's dining-room, or in the purlieus of the stable-yard, than 
 iu the retirement of the library, or in the apartment of liis
 
 PRACTICAL ESSAY ON EDUCATION. 5 
 
 tutor. In order to form a moral agent to the highest degree 
 of excellence of which he is capable, the most guarded vigi- 
 lance over the propensities of early youth, is requisite on the 
 part of natural superintendents and it seems to be the wise 
 ordinance of providence, that the anxiety which parents uni- 
 versally entertain for the welfare of their offspring, is calculat- 
 ed, when properly directed, to become a strong promoter, 
 and a steady safeguard of virtue. 
 
 If we may give credence to the records of remote antiquity, 
 the institutions of one ancient nation, in order to obviate the 
 mischiefs produced by the ignorance or the inattention of pa- 
 rents, provided, by compulsory laws, for the pnblic education, 
 according to an established system, of all children born within 
 its precincts ; and there have not been wanting philosophers 
 both of ancient and of modern times, who, maintaining the 
 principle, that a state has a paramount interest in the welfare 
 and good conduct of those who are born within its limits, 
 have vindicated and applauded such institutions. Speculation* 
 of this description, do not, however, seem to merit any ela- 
 borate discussion. It will be superfluous to dwell upon the 
 public education of the Lacedemonians, which, after all, seems 
 to have extended little further than to the provisions of a ge- 
 neral military conscription, or to examine the political ro- 
 mance of Xenophon. The dreams of a theorist are of little 
 authority, and the results of the boasted Spartan education, 
 were by no means such as to entitle it to any high commenda- 
 tion. It has been well observed by a judicious author, that, 
 " while the arts of life were improving in all the neighbour- 
 ing nations, Sparta derived this noble prerogative from her con- 
 stitution, that she continued the nearest to her pristine bar- 
 barity; and in the space of nearly a thousand years (which 
 include the whole period in which letters and the arts were 
 the most cultivated in the rest of Greece) produced no one 
 poet, orator, historian, or artist of any kind. The convulsions 
 of Athens, where life was in some measure enjoyed, and 
 the faculties of body and mind had their proper exercise and
 
 6 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 gratification, were far preferable to the savage uniformity of 
 Sparta." 
 
 A little consideration will convince the man of a thinking 
 nind, that the prescriptions of civil authority universally act 
 as barriers to the improvement of the arts. The language is, 
 " hitherto shall thou go, but no farther." Itis, however, the 
 business of education not to cramp, but to guide the intellect. 
 Its province extends to the inculcating of those fundamental 
 principles upon which the structure of science is to be built : 
 the finishing of the structure ought to be left in a great mea- 
 sure to individual discretion. To the attainment of truth, 
 freedom of inquiry is absolutely essential. A man may as 
 well attempt to penetrate the mazes of an entangled wood in 
 fetters, as to investigate the vast variety of intellectual sub- 
 jects, with a mind trammelled by the imperative decisions of 
 human institutions. And to the reducing the general mind to 
 this degrading predicament, do the prescriptions of civil au- 
 thority in matters of literature usually tend. They lead to the 
 fostering of prejudice, and to the perpetuation of error. They 
 necessarily keep a nation stationary in the march of intellect, 
 and repress that expansion of thought which is the parent of 
 excellence. To a certain degree they may be productive of 
 decided and powerful effects ; but the uniformity of habit and 
 character, which they are calculated to produce, rather tends 
 to lower man to the level of brutal instinct, than to raise him 
 higher in the scale of the intelligent creation. 
 
 On these speculations, however, it is unnecessary to enlarge. 
 We are in this case free from the necessity of wandering 
 through the airy indistinctness of theory. In offering a few 
 liints upon the process of Education, which may be suitable 
 to the condition and circumstances of a Briton, we are hap- 
 pily authorized to assume the position, that the child is left to 
 the disposal of its parent. 
 
 Education is, indeed, in the British empire, an object of 
 national concern. Our various universities and public schools, 
 are splendid monuments qf the attention paid by our ancestors
 
 PRACTICAL ESSAY ON EDUCATION. 7 
 
 to the important object of training and enlightening the youth- 
 ful mind. The provision made for the support of these esta* 
 blishments, especially in England and Ireland, is, generally 
 speaking, munificent. At the same time it is not sufficient to 
 afford a temptation to the indulgence of idleness, by the con- 
 version of responsible offices into sinecures. The dignity 
 hence accruing to their teachers and professors, invests them 
 with high authority, and imparts additional weight to their in- 
 structions; while the respect in which they are habitually 
 held by long established prescription, gives a powerful sanc- 
 tion to the system of their discipline. In Scotland the case is 
 somewhat different, but the result is perhaps little less favour- 
 able to general improvement. The professors who lecture in 
 the universities of that kingdom, depend for the principal part 
 of their emoluments upon the fees which they receive from 
 pupils, whose attendance upon their instructions is in many 
 instances optional. Their gains being, therefore, in propor- 
 tion to their reputation, this circumstance is a strong stimulus 
 to exertion, and bids fair to ensure to the superior Scottish 
 seminaries of education, a succession of learned and scientific 
 preceptors. The constitution and utility of the Scottish parish 
 schools, have been ably and feelingly described by that excel- 
 lent writer and amiable man, the late Dr. Currie ; and though 
 the claim of the supporters of Dr. Bell, to denominate his 
 mode of educating tlie lower orders of the community a 
 " national system," may be disputed, there is every reason to 
 hope that his labours, and those of the indefatigable Lancas- 
 ter, will, in the lapse of a short time, place the elements of 
 knowledge within the reach of the humblest individual in the 
 British Isles. 
 
 Various and extensive, however, as our public establish- 
 ments for education may be, with the exception of the indivi- 
 duals who dedicate themselves to the ministry in our national 
 churches, and, perhaps, also of those who devote themselves 
 to the study of the law, it may be affirmed of the great mass 
 of our community, that in the momentous article of the edu-
 
 S INTRODUCTION. 
 
 cation of his offspring, every one is permitted to follow the 
 dictates of his own discretion. 
 
 From this circumstance has arisen a question which, though 
 discussed in successive generations from the time of Quintilian, 
 down to the present day, has, by reason of the freedom of 
 our views and of our habits, been no where more frequently 
 and more earnestly argued than in our native country namely, 
 which is preferable a public or a private Education. This 
 question certainly involves matter of high importance, aiid is 
 well deserving of serious consideration. 
 
 On entering upon the investigation of this problem, how- 
 ever it may be expedient to remark, that the Roman rhe- 
 torician, whose opinions on this subject have been so frequent- 
 ly quoted, does not by any means treat upon it in the abstract. 
 The general scope of his immortal work, is to detail the pro- 
 cess by which a Roman youth might attain to excellence in 
 that accoropliehment, which in his time, was the means of 
 attaining the highest civic honours, viz. the eloquence of the 
 forum, and of the senate. It would indeed be a species of 
 laborious trifling, to treat this as an abstract inquiry. Its 
 decision in each case must in a great degree depend upon the 
 particular circumstances of the individual interested in that 
 decision. Is it not, for instance, most clearly the height of 
 absurdity to think of committing a youth, feeble in body or 
 in mind, to the discipline of our public schools ? The system 
 necessarily adopted in those seminaries does not admit of 
 those relaxations and indulgences, and of that minuteness of 
 attention, which are requisite to mitigate the effects of cor- 
 poreal or mental infirmity. In so rude a climate, a sickly 
 plant will speedily wither and die. What an affecting picture 
 does the biographer of Cowper delineate, of the subject of 
 his memoir just emerging from an infancy of peculiar delicacy, 
 and sent to encounter, without protection, the contentions and 
 buffetings of a public seminary of education. " The little 
 Cowper was sent to his first school in the year of his mo- 
 ther's death, and how ill suited the scene was to. his pecu-
 
 PRACTICAL ESSAY ON EDUCATION. 9 
 
 liar character, must be evident to all who have heard him de- 
 scribe his sensations in that season of life, which is often very 
 erroneously extolled as the happiest period of human exist- 
 ence. He has frequently been heard to lament the persecu- 
 tion he sustained in his childish years, from the cruelty of 
 his school-fellows, in the two scenes of his education. His 
 own forcible expression represented him at Westminster as 
 not daring to raise his eye above the shoe-buckle of the elder 
 boys, who were too apt to tyrannize over his gentle spirit. 
 The acuteness of his feelings in his childhood, rendered those 
 important years, (which might have produced, under ten- 
 der cultivation, a series of lively enjoyments) miserable years 
 of increasing timidity and depression which, in the most cheer- 
 ful hours of his advanced life, he could hardly describe to an 
 intimate friend, without shuddering at the recollection of his 
 early wretchedness." 
 
 True it is, that at Westminster school, Cowper acquired a 
 considerable store of learning, and imbibed the principles of 
 that just taste, which characterizes all his writings. But at what 
 a price were these accomplishments purchased ? What was 
 the effect of the process to which he was there obliged to 
 submit, upon the happiness of his future existence ? His 
 health was impaired. His spirits were broken. He withdrew 
 from the active scenes of society into a comparatively useless 
 retirement and he finally became a prey to that morbid sen- 
 sibility which, for the long and dreary space of thirteen years, 
 rendered his life a blank in the records of intellectual existence. 
 
 They, who are narrowly limited in the means of supporting 
 and establishing their families, must be regarded as hazarding 
 a perilous experiment, when they educate their sons at public 
 schools. There, habits of expense are almost necessarily con- 
 tracted habits, which in the heirs to title and wealth, may 
 not be inconsistent or unjustifiable, but which are fatal to the 
 future welfare of those who are less fortunately circumstanced. 
 Here let it be observed, tliat the moral certainty thus super- 
 induced, of a youth's acquiring views and propensities which
 
 10 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 will be the sure and copious source of anxiety and distress id 
 coming years, is, in the estimation of discreet judgment, by no 
 means compensated by the prospect with which some parents 
 flatter themselves, that in public seminaries their children 
 may form connexions which will ultimately promote their 
 worldly interests. This principle of action is in itself con- 
 temptible. It directly tends to the excitement and the foster- 
 n^ of meanness and hypocrisy it may produce a parasite 
 and a sycophant, but it will never produce a man of honour 
 and a gentleman and, notwithstanding some rare exceptions 
 may be quoted to excite the eagerness of the ambitious, the 
 views upon which it is founded will generally end in disap- 
 pointment and mortification. 
 
 Nor is it advisable for those, wh^ however wealthy they 
 may be, wish to bring up their sons to conduct the details of 
 trade and commerce, to send them to our superior public 
 schools. From the undeviating system of instruction which 
 is there adopted, they will learn perhaps every thing except 
 what will be useful to them in their future destination. Sur- 
 rounded by companions who are born to what they are led to 
 regard as higher aims and expectations, they will become 
 ashamed of their origin, and discontented with their pros- 
 pects. Thus will they be induced to rebel -against natural 
 authority, and in process of time they will obstinately and 
 wilfully thwart the views, and counteract the wishes of their 
 parents, who, however they may lament the failure of their 
 plans, will have their own folly alone to blame for their 
 unfortunate issue. 
 
 Numerous as may be the individuals contained in the 
 classes which are pointed out in the foregoing exceptions, 
 there remains in the ranks of Society an abundant sufficiency 
 of recruits to maintain the numbers of those whose early 
 Education ought, in prudence and discretion, to be conducted 
 at our public schools. The imperious dictate of general 
 opinion has decided, that persons, designed for public life, 
 ought to go through the process of a public Education.
 
 PRACTICAL ESSAY ON EDUCATION. 1 1 
 
 Hence it is expected that the sons of our nobility and of 
 our principal gentry that they who have a reasonable pros- 
 pect of obtaining seats in parliament or of filling the higher, 
 and even the secondary offices of state that they who are 
 destined to the bar and the church; and in some cases, 
 to the practice of medicine, should qualify themselves for 
 their respective stations by submitting to the discipline of 
 our public seminaries of Education. And this expectation 
 is far from being supported merely by prejudices of prevail- 
 ing fashion. It is founded on the nature of things, and the 
 constitution of society, and is therefore reasonable and pro- 
 per. Generally speaking, it is not indeed absolutely neces- 
 sary that a particular individual should enter into public life. 
 But if such be his destination or his fortune, it is certainly 
 expedient, and much to be wished, that he should enter 
 upon his station provided with that furniture of mind, and 
 endued with those accomplishments, which will best enable 
 him to discharge its duties with utility to the community at 
 large, and with credit to himself. This happy result may be 
 justly calculated upon, as likely to ensue from the discipline of 
 public Education. In our extensive and well endowed public 
 seminaries, a system of equality prevails among the pupils, 
 which admirably tends to abate the presumption, without 
 controling the spirit of aristocracy, and to enure youth to 
 that patience in suffering, and that manliness of exertion, which 
 are the best preparatives for the scenes ,of active life. The 
 nature and habits of the society too, which is assembled in 
 these seminaries, produce those easy and unembarrassed man- 
 ners, which afford an unspeakable advantage in the transaction 
 of business. In the varioHS stages which occur, if the ex- 
 pression may be allowed, in the route of public Education, 
 ingenuous youths proceed by just degrees, and without any 
 violence of transition, to the object of their hopes and wishes. 
 Thus are they enabled without effort, to adapt themselves to 
 their successive circumstances, without being betrayed into 
 improprieties and inconsistencies, which would render them
 
 12 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 the objects of ridicule and contempt. Novelty of situation 
 will not deprive them of the invaluable faculty of self-com- 
 mand nor will it on the other hand inspire them with over- 
 weening confidence and conceit. And when to these various 
 recommendations, it is added, that the method of instruction 
 practised in our public schools, is skilfully adapted to imbue 
 the youthful mind with the principles of pure taste, and to 
 call into action the innate powers, of genius, enough has been 
 said to vindicate their utihty and importance to those, who are 
 destined by their birth, or who are devoted by the wishes of 
 their parents, to the duties and engagements of public life. 
 
 Some parents, however, influenced perhaps by a mixed 
 feeling of tenderness, and of conscientious regard for the 
 welfare of their offspring, have hesitated to commit them to 
 the discipline of a public school, from an idea that the obli- 
 gation of attending to numbers of pupils, must necessarily pre- 
 clude the possibility of the tutors promoting the improvement, 
 and watcliing over the morals of individuals. Nothing can be 
 more weakly foimded than the former of these objections. 
 It is bottomed in absolute ignorance of facts. The vivifying 
 principle of a good mental Education, is steady system, and 
 prompt and vigorous discipline. These are found in perfection 
 in our public schools, and perhaps in them alone. There the 
 ablest teachers have ample scope for their energies, free from 
 the impertinence of interference, or from the benumbing 
 dread of pecuniary loss. There, emulation urges the pupil to 
 labour, and the pubhcity of honours at once rewards the 
 past, and stimulates to future exertions. In fine, let the 
 appeal be made to facts, and it will be found, that in our public 
 seminaries have been trained the men who have most emi- 
 nently distinguished themselves by the elegance, the accuracy, 
 and the profundity of their erudition. 
 
 As to morals, it must be acknowledged that vice, and even 
 profligacy, are occasionally to be found in our public schools. 
 But, alas ! is vice confined to them r By no means, It is 
 not even excluded from the domestic walls. It is an obser-
 
 PRACTICAL ESSAY ON EDUCATION. 13 
 
 vation sanctioned by the almost unanimous testimony of those 
 whose opinion is founded upon experience, that the vices of a 
 public school are of a nature to be easily detected, and to be 
 corrected by discipline ; while those of private education creep 
 on in concealment, and frequently arrive at a remediless degree 
 of maturity before they are discovered. The remark of the ju- 
 dicious Dr. Barrow on this head is at once striking and just. 
 " The perpetual restraints under which the private pupil lives, 
 and the constant presence of those much older than himself, 
 do not suffer his propensities and passions to appear in their 
 true colours ; and consequently their course cannot be suf-^ 
 ficiently regulated, nor their excesses restrained. He does 
 not grow open and ingenuous by unreserved communication 
 with his equals; but artful and designing, by watching the 
 sentiments of those more advanced in age ; and the self- 
 command which he appears to possess, is often policy, not 
 principle hypocrisy, not virtue." 
 
 Most of the observations which have been applied to the 
 English public schools, are also applicable to the English uni- 
 versities. These are, and necessarily must be, the resort of in- 
 dividuals, whose views are directed to the church or the bar, 
 or of those who claim by their birth, or are likely to attain in 
 consequence of their circumstances, the honours and distinc- 
 tions of public life. Here the scholar enters upon a wider 
 range of study, and extends his excursions into the field of 
 science. These institutions were indeed first established at 
 a time when learning was the exclusive province of the clergj', 
 and the course of instruction pursued within their precincts 
 was arranged according to this narrow principle. It consisted 
 of the puerile Rhetoric, of the intricate Logic, and of the 
 barbarous jargon dignified by the name of School-divinity, 
 which for several centuries were regarded as comprizing the 
 whole compass of human learning. Hence our universities 
 were formerly rather the parents of pedantry and of unprofit- 
 able speculation, than of sound literature and useful science. 
 In consequence of the difficulty of procuring even desirable
 
 lA INTRODUCTION. 
 
 alterations in established systems, dignified by the veneration 
 bestowed upon antiquity ; this continued for too long a season 
 to be matter of merited reproach. The rapid increase, and 
 the general diffusion of knowledge has, however, enforced up- 
 on the conductors of those institutions, the necessity of salu* 
 tary reform. In the course of education, they keep pace with 
 the progress of the times, and it cannot now with justice be 
 said, that the studies pursued ia them, are too abstracted, or 
 that they have too little bearing upon the realities of life. 
 The system of our universities may not indeed be perfect : but 
 it is of a high degree of excellence, and is well calculated to 
 strengthen the intellectual powers, and to enable them to act 
 with vigour upon any subject, which, when the student enters 
 at large upon the business of the world, may be practically 
 presented to them. 
 
 Tlie tour of Europe was formerly thought absolutely re- 
 quisite to complete the education of our men of rank, and of 
 the superior order of our gentry. Foreign travel was cer- 
 tainly of great use in rubbing off academical rust in correcting 
 prejudices, and in enlarging the sphere of mental vision. By 
 comparing the institutions of his own country with those of 
 foreign lands, the observant youth was enabled duly to appre- 
 ciate the value of the former, and learn in what particulars 
 they were capable of correction and amendment. By making 
 himself acquainted with tlie characters of the individuals who 
 took an active part in the conduct of politics, and witli the 
 circumstances, views, and interests of the continental courts, 
 he qualified himself for the situation of a diplomatic agent, or 
 for the discharge of the arduous duties of tlie cabinet. Ilie 
 events of the late war have, however, for many years, precluded 
 the young nobility and gentry from availing themselves of this 
 source of improvement. Thus situated, travellers of rank 
 and fashion have directed their excursions to Turkey, Greece, 
 and Egypt. This circumstance has caused those countries to 
 be better knoN^m than they formerly were : but it is much to 
 be doubted, whether, by wandering through districts inhabited
 
 PRACTICAL ESSAY ON EDUCATIoV?. 16 
 
 by hordes of semi-barburians, and tribes of miserable slaves, 
 our countrymen will be materially improved either in intellect 
 or morals. 
 
 The foregoing remarks have, of course, a special reference 
 to the case of individuals, on whom, it is deemed expedient, 
 to bestow a public education. These, however, bear but a 
 small proportion, to the great mass of our community, whose 
 instruction must necessarily be derived from the discipline of 
 private seminaries. Of these seminaries, there are always ex- 
 isting, under various appellations, a countless multitude, the 
 characters of which extend through all the gradations of me- 
 rit and demerit. This circumstance is, to the serious and 
 considerate parent, a source of great and just anxiety for 
 what more important topic can occupy the thoughts of a ra- 
 tional being, than the settlement of his offspring in a situation, 
 where the character of his mind, and his moral habits, which 
 must have such a commanding influence over liis future des- 
 tiny, will in all probability be fixed for ever. On the part of 
 parents who are themselves illiterate, and who wish to bestow 
 upon their children those advantages of intellectual culture, 
 the want of which they have themselves had occasion to la- 
 ment, the utmost care and circumspection are requisite. The 
 province of education opens a wide field for the knavery of 
 quacks and charlatans, who make a practice of plundering the 
 unwary and the ignorant. The wretch, who, by his bold and 
 interested presumption, puts to hazard the health of the body, 
 is a subject of merited detestation and reproach ; but he is 
 still more detestable, who tampers with the health of the 
 youthful mind. 'Wi'mi^m'titmsft^oir-^y *jf, 
 
 Nothing is more lamentable than the irreparable waste of 
 time, and the destruction of intellect, caused by the inatten- 
 tion and mismanagement of unfaithful and incapable teachers. 
 People of this description are justly chargeable with the 
 crime of intellectual murder a crime which ought to draw 
 down upon its perpetrator the severest punishment. There 
 have not indeed been wanting theorists, who, reflecting
 
 16 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 upon the mischief occasioned by incompetent pretenders to 
 the art of teaching, have thought it a fit subject for legislativ 
 interference and correction. Such interference, however, 
 seems to be incompatible with the genius of our free constitu- 
 tion ; and it would be extremely difficult, if not absolutely im- 
 possible, to make legislative restrictions, in the matter of edu- 
 cation, without opening a wide door for the introduction of 
 oppression and abuse. This being the case, all that can be 
 done, is, to warn parents of their liability to imposition, and of 
 the consequent necessity of caution. If they are not them- 
 selves learned, and wish to bestow upon their children a 
 learned education, they will do well to consult some friend 
 who may be qualified to assist and direct them in the choice 
 of a school for the training of their offspring. In tlie mean 
 time, common sense, and their general knowledge of tlie affairs 
 of life, should teach them to be suspicious of high professions, 
 and boastful promises of all short methods for the attainment 
 of knowledge and of all proposals to conduct the pupil up 
 the hill of science, without subjecting him to the endurance of 
 pain, or to the labour of exertion. These professions are di- 
 rectly incompatible with the laws of providence, to which, the 
 human intellect, invariably, is subject. They are the expedi- 
 ents of adventurers, whose object it is to make a specious 
 shew, and thus to abuse and turn to their profit the credulity 
 of the public. 
 
 And here, it may not be inexpedient, briefly to notice, a 
 query which is frequently proposed, and has been variously 
 answered namely, whether classical literature be a proper ob- 
 ject of study for those who are not intended for a learned pro- 
 fession, or for public life That it would be extremely absurd 
 for an individual of this description, to dedicate so much time 
 to classical literature, as is allotted to that department of know- 
 ledge in our public schools, has already been hinted. The 
 writer of this essay well remembers an instance of a youth, 
 who, on being transferred to a mercantile counting-house 
 from the highest form of a public school, which he quitted
 
 PRACTICAL ESSAY ON EDUCATION. 17^ 
 
 with a merited reputation for good scholarship, was found to 
 be so igriorant of figures, as not to be able to cast up a bill of 
 parcels. Yet it is by no means advisable for the future repre- 
 sentatives, even of the middle classes of society, to forego the 
 study of the classics, during the period of their school-educa- 
 tion. It is perfectly practicable to acquire at school a compe- 
 tent, and by competent, is meant, -a very considerable degree of 
 classical knowledge, in combination with those studies, which 
 have a more direct bearing upon the affairs of life. The habit 
 of strict and careful analysis, which is formed by the process of 
 judicious instruction in the Greek and I^tin languages, is it- 
 self a most valuable acquisition, and is an excellent prepara- 
 tive for the exertion of the mental powers, in all other inqui- 
 ries. The facilities, which a knowledge of these tongues af- 
 fords, in the acquisition of modern languages, and in compre- 
 hending the terms of art and science, is a matter of trite, but 
 at the same time of just remark. In our most favorite and 
 popular English authors, references to classical subjects, and 
 even to classical phraseology, are so frequent, that an acquaint- 
 ance with this branch of literature is absolutely requisite to 
 a just idea of their meaning, and to a true relish of their spirit. 
 To which may be added^ that a correct English style and true 
 delicacy of taste in composition, are hardly ever acquired but 
 by the medium of classical literature. It is presumed then, 
 that it is not an unreasonable opinion, that with regard to the 
 class of the community whose circumstances are now under 
 consideration, a moderate portion of time, dedicated to this 
 object, is well and prudently bestowed. 
 
 In the English Universities, and in the University of Dublin, 
 a proficiency in classical literature, and the abstract sciences, 
 constitutes the title to academic honours, and is of course the 
 great object of pursuit. This circumstance naturally takes 
 place, in consequence of the peculiar adaptati(in of the system 
 of these institutions to the learned professions. But as these 
 professions furnish a comparatively small number of subjects 
 of education, it has from time to time, been proposed, by indi- 
 
 c
 
 18 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 viduals of no mean acquirements in erudition and science to 
 provide a course of instruction for gentlemen, who, though 
 they do not aspire after the dignity of a profession, are likely 
 to fill respectable stations in active life. Plans of this nature 
 have uniformly been adopted in the Academies, or, is they are of 
 late denominated, the colleges of the Protestant Dissenters. 
 These plans have usually embraced, besides Classics and Ma- 
 thematics, which have been rather secondary than primary 
 objects, a course of Logic and Metaphysics Lectures on 
 Natural and Moral Philosophy, and the Evidences of Chris- 
 tianity on Civil and Ecclesiastical History ; and on the British 
 Constitution. ^The utility of such a course of instruction is 
 obvious; and various publications evince, that the lecturers, 
 who have treated on these topics, in the seminaries above al- 
 luded to, have executed their tasks with exemplary industry 
 and great abihty. It is to be lamented, that the institutions 
 themselves have been invariably short lived. Into the causes 
 of this fact it does not come within the scope of this Essay 
 to inquire. Suffice it therefore to remark, that in addition to 
 the dissenting academies, any one, who wishes his son to have 
 the benefit of instruction, in any of the above-mentioned 
 branches of study, free from the obligation of a minute and 
 laborious attiention to clasijical literature, and from other obli- 
 gations enforced at our English Universities, may have his 
 wishes amply gratified in the Scotch Universities, and parti- 
 cularly in those of Glasgow and of Edinburgh. 
 
 In treating generally on the subject of education, it will be 
 proper to advert to the course of instruction appropriate to 
 the female sex. On this topic, however, brevity will be expe- 
 dient, as whatever may be the decisions of Essayists, female 
 education will be directed by the arbitrary decree of fashion. 
 It is obvious however to remark, that as modesty and retire- 
 ment, are the natural characteristics, and constitute the most 
 powerful attractions of the sex, females should seem to be the 
 fittest subjects for private education and that those parents, 
 --^hose circumutanccs will enable them to incur the necessary
 
 PRACTICAL ESSAY ON EDUCATION. 19 
 
 expense, will do well to have their daughters educated under 
 their own eye. Those alone, who are conscious to themselves, 
 that the manners of their domestic circle, are not the most 
 commendable, or who find it necessary to share with others 
 the expense of the teachers, of what are called accomplishments, 
 are justifiable in sending them from home : and how injudicious 
 are many of the attempts which are made to enforce the ac- 
 quirement of these accomplishments ! The time, which can 
 properly be spared for them Is, in the most favourable circum- 
 stances, inadequate ; but when a young lady, who has neither 
 eye, nor ear, is compelled to drudge at music and drawing, the 
 result of her labours is discomfort to herself, and annoyance 
 to the friends and strangers who are summoned to witness her 
 proficiency ; and who, if they possess any relish for the fine 
 arts, are embarrassed between their unwillingness to bestow 
 hypocritical praise, and to utter unwelcome truth. Accom- 
 plishments are doubtless a valuable acquirement, and also an 
 acquirerfient, within the reach of those who are endowed with 
 natural taste, and who have time to bestow upon them. As 
 to those, who are differently circumstanced in the acquisition 
 of facility, in the works appropriated to their sex, in the study 
 of modem languages, of History and Geography, in the perusal 
 of our best English authors, and the formation of a correct 
 style of writing, they will find sufficient employment for the 
 years which are allotted to their school-education. 
 
 In former times, it was by no means an uncommon circum- 
 stance, for ladies of high rank to receive the benefit of a clas- 
 sical education. Queen Elizabeth's Latin exercise book is 
 still exhibited in the Bodleian library and the unfortunate 
 Lady Jane Grey is said to have been an accomplished scholar. 
 In our own days too, there have not been wanting parents 
 who have procured for their daughters instruction in the learn- 
 ed languages. This branch of education, however, as applied 
 to females, has been made the subject of much paltry and un- 
 merited ridicule. The capacity of the female sex for the 
 learning of languages, is at least equal to that of the male ; 
 
 c 2
 
 20 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 and if classical studies tend to the exercise of the understand- 
 ing, and to the refinement of taste, why are not these objects 
 as desirable for the one sex as for the other ? In point of 
 fact, the course of female education will allow nearly as much 
 time for this pursuit, as is generally dedicated to it by boys, 
 who are intended to eater at an early period into tlie concerns 
 of active life ; and it will be difficult to point out any object 
 upon which that time can be better employed. As to the 
 frivolous objection that classical accomplishments tend to 
 make young ladies conceited, it may be a sufficient answer to 
 observe, that were those accomplishments more commonly 
 diflfused among females, they would be proportionably less a 
 subject of pride ; and that the emotions of self-conceit are 
 easily repressed by that moral discipline, which, throughout 
 the whole process of education, it is taken for granted, will be 
 strictly enforced, ^Vilhout this discipline, indeed, every topic 
 of instruction may be perverted into a subject of conceit. 
 With it, no accomplishment will generate those feelingK which 
 trench upon the essential virtues of modesty and humility. 
 
 But learned females are said not to acquire the good graces 
 of the other sex. It is asserted that they are regarded with a 
 species of dread and jealousy. If a reputation for literature 
 keeps fools and coxcombs at a distance from a youthful fe- 
 male, is this circumstance a proper subject of lameutation i 
 and is it expedient, for the sake of such characters, to keep 
 . down the female mind, in order to reduce it to the ordinary 
 level of intellectual society i" In the estimation of reason, a 
 lovely woman cannot be rendered less lovely, by the high cul- 
 tivation of her talents ; and many examples may be quoted to 
 prove, that intellectual attainments are so far from beinj::; in- 
 consistent with feminine graces, that they confer upon them 
 additional attractions. 
 
 In the mean time, let not domestic accomplishments be 
 despised. On the contrary, let them be cultivated with the most 
 diligent attention. But why should any portion of the field of 
 knowledge be interdicted to any, rational creature, who has an
 
 PRACTICAL ESSAY ON EDUCATION. 21 
 
 opportunity, and who entertains a wish to enter it ? and why 
 should females be debarred from a source of elegant amuse- 
 ment, and of useful instruction, peculiarly adapted to their 
 domestic habits ? The conduct of learned females is watched, 
 especially by their own sex, with an evil eye. Their foibles 
 are magnified. Their errors are exaggerated, and whatever 
 faults they commit, are laid to the account of literature, with 
 the candour and good sense evinced by the self-complacent 
 ignorant, who, on seeing a man executed for forgery, ex- 
 claimed, ** such are the consequences of reading and writing !** 
 Many a lady has railed against learned females who, if she 
 had herself received some tincture of learning, would have been 
 enabled to detect the charlatanism of her son's preceptor, who,~ 
 being himself grossly ignorant, wastes the precious time of 
 his pupil, while he proposes to render him, probably by some 
 short and easy method, a proficient in literature* and in science. 
 When we consider what influence the female sex have in di- 
 recting the early ideas of man, and also upon the habits of his 
 future life, it fe surely desirable that they should be endowed 
 with every species of knowledge, conveniently within th6ir 
 reach, which may turn that influence to good. 
 
 The preceptors of youth, of either jsex, ought, however, to 
 be again and again admonished of the importance of the task 
 which they have undertaken, and also of its difficulty. It is 
 their duty to be patient with the dull, and steady with the 
 froward to encourage the timid, and repress the insolent 
 fully to employ the minds of their pupils, without overburden- 
 ing them to awaken their fear without exciting their dislike 
 to communicate the stores of knowledge accoruing to the ca- 
 pacity of the learner, and to enforce obedience by the strict- 
 ness of discipline. Above all, it is their bounden duty to be 
 ever on the watch, and to check the first beginnings of vice. 
 For valuable as knowledge may be, virtue is infinitely more 
 valuable ; and worse than useless are those mental accom- 
 plishments, which are accompanied by depravity of heart. 
 Languages. Philosophical principles are discovered by
 
 42 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 the examination, and by the comparison of a multiplicity of 
 facts. Upon this process is founded tlie philosophy of gram- 
 mar, to an acquaintance with which, a knowledge of a variety 
 of languages is absolutely necessary. Hence, the study of 
 languages becomes an object extremely interesting to the 
 man of scientific research, and especially to those who devote 
 themselves to metaphysical inquiries. It is no less so to him, 
 vihp, declining any recondite examination into tbe origin of 
 words, and the mechanism of phraseology, is contented with 
 tracing the imagery which, in the literary compositions of dif- 
 ferent countries, captivates the fancy, and impresses the heart; 
 and thus bounds his views to those investigations, which result 
 in fixing the laws of just taste. The historian, who is not 
 qualified to read the original records of the age and country 
 which are the subjects of his lucubrations, finds himself per- 
 plexed at every step. He moves onward through dimness and 
 shade. He is obliged to trust implicitly to guides, who may 
 be, for aught he knows, ignorant or unfaithful. Thus do his 
 difficulties multiply ; and he finds himself little qualified to in- 
 vestigate what is embarrassing, and to elucidate what is ob- 
 scure and, however penetrating may be his natural sagacity, 
 and however alert may be his vigilance, he is continually liable 
 to fall into the most ridiculous errors. 
 
 To say nothing of the peculiar views and circumstances of 
 diplomatists and statesmen, or of those who hold even subor- 
 dinate situations in our public offices, the occurrences of com- 
 mon life render a familiarity witli different languages highly 
 expedient, if not essentially requisite to successful enterprize. 
 Our armies and our fleets have, of late years, carried on their 
 operations in almost every nation of Europe, and in all the 
 quarters of the globe and it is evident to the perception of 
 common sense, what facilities are afforded to the conduct of 
 those operations, by a knowledge of the vernacular tongue of 
 the country in which they take place. The want of this 
 knowledge was found to be so inconvenient, and in 6ome in- 
 stances so detrimental, and even fatal io Flanders, at the com-
 
 PRACTICAL ESSAY ON EDUCATION. 23 
 
 mcncement of the war against the Republic of France, that a 
 vocabulary, containing, in three or four languages, a collection 
 of military terms, and of the forms of speech used in the 
 common^ intercourse of Kfe, was found to be extremely use- 
 ful. It is a well known fact, that the first process entered 
 upon by a military cadet in our East Indian possessions, is the 
 learning of the Hindostannee tongue. To all which observa- 
 tions it may be added, that for the management of the exten- 
 sive concerns of our merchants, manufacturers, and superior 
 tradesmen,, it is highly desirable to add to other qualifications 
 that of a good linguist. Hence a few plain and practical remarks 
 upon the study of languages, may in this Essay be esteemed as 
 not altogether useless or uninteresting. 
 
 Languages are divided into two classes, the dead and the 
 living ^that is to say, those which are no longer used by the 
 general mass of the inhabitants of any country, as the means 
 of oral communication, and the remembrance of which ig 
 preserved merely by written documents; such as the Latin, 
 the Greek, the Hebrew, and the Saxon and those which 
 are still in use in diff'erent states as the medium of social in- 
 tercourse, such as the French, the Italian, the Spanish, and 
 the Portuguese. 
 
 With respect to living languages, it is certain, that the 
 most effectual and the most speedy method, whereby a pupil 
 may acquire a facility in them, is to reside for a sufiicient time 
 in the countries where they are in vernacular use, and to frequent 
 the company of that class of society where they are spoken in 
 their purity. Much instruction may also be gained by attend- 
 ance upon theatrical performances, and by listening to legal 
 pleadings in those countries, where the courts of law are open, 
 and advocates are employed to plead. By this means the 
 process of instruction is perpetually going on. Necessity at 
 first compels to exertion ; and the pleasures of society give a 
 stimulus to the intellect. The faculty of association puts forth 
 its full influence for the production of the desired effect ; and 
 ideas and iheir corresponding words soon begin to present
 
 24 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 themselres simultaneously to the mind. Mr. Gibbon de- 
 scribes in the following lively terms, the easy and the rapid 
 manner, in which, duruig his first residence at Lausanne, he 
 acquired a knowledge of the French tongue : " In the Pays 
 de V^aud, the French language is used with less imperfection 
 than in most of the distant provinces of France : in Pavil- 
 liard's family, necessity compelled me to listen and to speak ; 
 and if 1 was at first disheartened by the apparent slowness, 
 in a few months i was astonished by the rapidity of my pro- 
 gress. My pronunciation was formed by the constant re- 
 petition of the same sounds ; the variety of words and 
 idioms, the rules of grammar, and disthictions of genders, 
 were impressed on my memory : ease and freedom were 
 obtained by practice ; correctness and elegance, by labour ; 
 and before 1 was recalled home, French, lin which I 
 spontaneously thought, was more familiar than English to 
 my ear, my tongue, and my pen." 
 
 It must, however, be observed, as a matter of the highest 
 moment, that unless oral instructions be accompanied and 
 confirmed by grammatical and philological studies, their re- 
 sults will, on quitting the scene of their communication, be 
 lost, with a celerity which is hardly to be conceived. That 
 which is learned merely by rote, soon vanishes from the re- 
 collection, it should seem to be the law of Providence, that 
 vrhat is easily attained, makes a slight impression on the tablet 
 of the memory ; and that a slight impression is soon erased. 
 No intellectual acquirement is solid and permanent, which is 
 not founded on the knowledge and application of principles. 
 
 For those who cannot conveniently fix their residence in 
 the countr}-, the language of which they wish to acquire, the 
 most feasible method of attaining this object, is toj procure 
 the assistance of a native of that country in the capacity of 
 tutor. In this case, the choice of Uie individual is u matter 
 of prime importance. To say nothing of moral character and 
 correctness of manners, it is not every one N\ho is qualified to 
 teach his native tongue. The office of an accompfished pre-
 
 PRACTICAL ESSAY ON EDUCATION. 25 
 
 ceptor, in any language, requires a rare union of acquirements, 
 it demands an extensive acquaintance with general literature, 
 and a knowledge of the principles of universal grammar and 
 good taste. People, who are not themselves well educated, will 
 experience but little success in educating others. And while 
 our country swarms witli foreigners of every description, 
 whose first idea, when they are reduced to difficulties, is to 
 assume the office of teachers, caution on this head is peculiarly 
 necessary. Ignorance and presumption generally gojiand in 
 hand ; and it is by no means an uncommon incident, that they, 
 who in their native country never rose higher than to the occu- 
 pation of valets or clerks, profess to imbue their pupils with 
 all the graces and elegancies of its language. It is obvious, 
 that from instructors of this description, little can be learned 
 but vulgarity and barbarism. A faithful and intelligent pre- 
 ceptor, however, may be of the greatest use. He will be 
 enabled to attune the ear of his pupil to a correct pronun- 
 ciation. He will give him a relish for the best authors of his 
 native country. He will introduce him to a familiar acquain- 
 tance, not only with its historians and poets, but also witli its 
 more idiomatic, its comic and colloquial writers, whose phra- 
 seology will be an excellent guide, and will afford him much 
 facility in speaking their language. At the same time he will 
 instruct him in composition, and qualify him for maintaining an 
 epistolary correspondence in the language which is the object 
 of his study. It is evident that the earlier the period at which 
 a pupil is entrusted to the care of such a tutor as has been 
 described, and the more time he dedicates to bis instructions, 
 the more quick and certain will be his progress. To a youth 
 of good parts, daily and domestic intercourse with a preceptor 
 of this description will almost, as far as the acquisition of 
 languages is concerned, supersede the necessity of foreign travel. 
 ;'<'/rhe above-mentioned methods are requisite for the acqui- 
 sition of what may be styled a practical use of the living lan- 
 guages. But there is a numerous class of students, who never 
 enter into the concerns of active life whose views are con-
 
 26 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 fined to the closet, and who merely wish to peruse the works 
 of the standard writers of different modern nations, as they 
 read the Latin and Greek classics, without particularly trou- 
 bling themselves with tlie study of the colloquial forms of 
 speech. How many scholars are there, for instance, who never 
 held a conversation in Italian, but who experience great plea- 
 sure in perusing the poems of Tasso and Ariosto in the origi- 
 nal. This degree of acquaintance with modern languages is 
 not a matter of difficult acquirement. A few elementary in- 
 structions, from a properly qualitied teacher, are required, after 
 which, the student, if he be possessed of tolerable abilities, and 
 of sufficient diligence, and especially if he has previously ob- 
 tained a grammatical knowledge of the Latin tongue, may, in a 
 great measure, depend upon his own exertions. In this pur 
 suit, however, he must be particularly admonished, above all 
 things, to lay his foundation well- not to be disgusted with the 
 toil of elementary inquiries to dwell with patient industry 
 upon grammatical inflections and<not to leave any difficulty 
 without due investigation. He must advance into the district 
 of literature, as the skilful and prudent general advances into 
 an enemy's country with caution and circumspection, being 
 particularly careful to leave no strong place luioccupied in his 
 rear. And during the whole course of his progress he will 
 derive singular advantage from Sir WiUiam Jones's method of 
 double translation, that is, from making a version of passages 
 selected from some approved author, of the language which he 
 is studying, into English and after a proper interval of time, 
 re-translating that version into the original tongue. This pro- 
 cess will give him a stock of words, and a facility of expres- 
 sion, and by comparing his second version, with the phraseo- 
 logy of the original author, he will in a manner constitute him 
 his corrector, and thus acquire the aid of a tutor, who will 
 guard him against barbarism, and impart to him a taste for the 
 elegancies of style. 
 
 As to the dead languages, the principal of them are the 
 LaUn, the Greek/ and the Hebrew. These are taught in our 
 
 ^.
 
 . PRACTICAL ESSAY ON EDUCATION. 2? 
 
 Schools and Universities. The systems of our various pubHc 
 establishments are not exactly alike, but they are all well 
 adapted to the end which they are designed to answer. They 
 are all founded upon patient industry, and accuracy of elemen- 
 tary research, without which, the attainment of any valuable 
 knowledge is utterly impracticable. It does not fall within 
 the province of the present work to enter into any criticism of 
 these systems. Where all are good, it is hardly necessary it 
 would perhaps be invidious, 4o inquire whi9h is the best. But 
 for the direction of some masters of private seminaries, and for 
 the guidance of those who may wish to attain to a certain degree 
 of classical knowledge, by dint of their own exertions, it may 
 not be inexpedient to subjoin a method, by which a student 
 may attain to a tolerable acquaintance with the Latin and 
 Greek languages. f# 
 
 Pursuing the common road, he will begin with the Latin 
 tongue. The first requisite will be ati acquaintance with the 
 grammar. Latin Grammars are almost innumerable ; but 
 Owen's Lilly's Accidence improved, published by Lowndes, 
 London, is particularly adapted to unassisted learners. First, 
 because it exhibits a sufficient variety of forms of the declen- 
 sion of nouns, and is nevertheless concise. Secondly, because 
 the syllables of doubtful pronunciation in the Latin words are 
 carefully accented. Thirdly, because the syntax rules are copi- 
 ous, but clear, and illustrated by a sufficiency of singularly 
 well chosen and classical examples. Of this grammar, the* ac- 
 cidence and syntax should be committed to memory. 
 
 The examples in the syntax being construed at the end of 
 the book, the student will, by the perusal, acquire a know- 
 ledge of a considerable number of words and combinations. 
 When he is thoroughly master of them, therefore, he may 
 proceed to try to construe some easy introductory book. He 
 must henceforth, resolutely forego the help of translations, they 
 are the bane of scholarship. Let him provide himself with 
 Ainsworth's Dictionary, and Valpy's Delectus. This latter 
 most useful book, contains in its first pages a number of easy
 
 28 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 sentences, through which he will, by the help of his dictionary 
 and grammar, proc^eed with profit and pleasure. But he^ 
 must observe, that he ought to keep himself in the constant 
 exercise of analysis, or parsing, i. e. declining the nouns and 
 pronouns, forming the verbs which occur, and investigating 
 in the rules of syntax, the reason of. the cases, genders, num- 
 Wrs, modes, &c. This will appear at first irksome, but it 
 will soon become easy ; and in the formation of verbs, and the 
 declension of nouqs, he will find much assistance in Hoole's 
 Terminations. 
 
 Those who have not sufficient courage to encounter Valpy's 
 Delectus, will find a succedaneum for resolute study in Bailey's 
 Phtedrus, in which the road of the scholar is smoothed by an 
 ordo, or an exhibition of the arrangement of the Latin words 
 as they occur in English construction ; by an index or diction- 
 ary adapted to the author ; and by a collection of remarkable 
 phrases. The writer of this article would, however, by no 
 means recommend the use of this, or similar books, as he is 
 persuaded that more real progress in a knowledge of the La- 
 tin tongue, will be made by the patient, unassisted investigation 
 of ten lines, than by the perusal of fifty lines thus facilitated by 
 special indexes and ordos. 
 
 When be enters on the second part of Valpy's Delectus, 
 which contains more intricate sentences than those which oc- 
 curred in the former, he will do well to procure Lyne's Latin 
 Primer, where he will find a number of excellent rules for 
 construing Latin. These rules he may apply to Valpy's De- 
 \^tus, as Valpy's selection of passages is more interesting and 
 classical than Lyne's. 
 
 When he feels a consciousness that he has advanced suffi- 
 ciently into Valpy's Delectus, to have acquired a tolerable faci- 
 lity in investigating sentences, he will be gratified by entering 
 upon the perusal of a classic writer. The general simplicity 
 of the construction of Ovid's periods, is a sufficient ground of 
 recommendation as an introductory author. Let the student 
 then provide himself with the Excerpta ex Ovidii Metamorph.
 
 PRACTICAL ESSAY ON EDUCATION. 29 
 
 published by Pote, of Eton. In the notes subjoined to the 
 text, he will find an useful help. It will also be necessary for 
 hitti to procure Lenipriere's Classical Dictionary. This work 
 will throw great light on the mythological and historical allu- 
 sions which abound in every page of Ovid. Cellarius's maps 
 too will afford him a correct idea of ancient geography. 
 
 During the whole of this process, it is absolutely and indis- 
 pensably requisite that he continue the task of analysis. If he 
 has not the assistance of a master, of course he cannot derive 
 .any advantage from the common exercise books. But the 
 method of double translation will be found to preclude the 
 necessity of any help of this kind. By daily translating into 
 English some of the prose sentences in Valpy's Delectus, and 
 on the ensuing day re-translating his version into Latin, he will 
 be able to correct his own exercises, and acquire in time a 
 considerable promptitude in Latin composition. 
 
 The prosody contained in Owen's grammar ia compendious 
 and satisfactory, but that contained in Valpy's Latm Grammar 
 is still more so. By committing the latter to memory, and 
 applying its rules to Ovid's verses, he will, in process of time, 
 be able to read Latin verse correctly. In order to assist his 
 more early pronunciation, the Gradus ad Parnassum, ofvLabbe's 
 Catholici Indices Eruditae Pronunciationis, will be found of 
 signal benefit. 
 
 He may now vary his studies by the perusal of Cornelius 
 Nepos. In the notes to the Delphin edition of this author, he 
 will meet with considerable assistance. 
 
 When he has read what he esteems a sufficient portion of 
 Cornelius Nepos, he may read a few books of Caesar's Com- 
 mentaries. Of this author also, the Delphih edition will be 
 found the most useful. 
 
 From Ovid he may advance to Virgil, which author he will 
 do well to read in the school edition of Heyne. The explana- 
 tory notes of that indefatigable scholar are, in an eminent de- 
 gree, clear, useful, and honest because he turns not from dif- 
 ficulties, " to hold his farthing candle to the sun." H* bends the
 
 30 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 strength of his talents to the faithful elucidation of his au- 
 thor, and thus he is truly an useful editor. 
 
 It is to be wished, that Horace had fallen into such indus- 
 trious hands. In Knox's Horatius Expurgatus, however, the 
 scholar will find a good collection of illustrative notes. The 
 annotations subjoined to Frances's translation also throw much 
 light on various obscure passages in this elegant author. The 
 Variorum edition of Juvenal is an elaborate work, and the an- 
 notations throw ample light upon most of his difficulties. The 
 learned veteran, Mr. Owen, in his poetical version of Juvenal, 
 and in his occasional notes, has displayed the various accom- 
 plishments of a correct grammarian, and of a scholar of ele- 
 gant taste. During the perusal of Juvenal, this valuable pub- 
 lication may be consulted with pleasure and profit. 
 
 When these works, or considerable portions of them, have 
 been carefully studied, especially if the method of parsing, and 
 double translation recommended above, have been faithfully 
 persevered in, the student 
 
 " Nabit sine cortice " 
 
 will be qualified to pursue his studies without any further pe- 
 culiar aid. 
 
 In the study of the Greek tongue, the scholar's attention 
 will, of course, be first directed to the grammar. The Eton 
 and Westminster rudiments are the standard Greek grammars 
 of this country. The former, being the more concise of the 
 two, is the more proper to be committed to memory ; the 
 latter, exhibiting a much greater variety of the declensions of 
 nouns substantive and adjective, is a very acceptable object of 
 occasional consultation and reference. But it will be by no 
 means necessary for the student to commit to memory the 
 whole of the Eton grannnar. He must, however, make him- 
 self master of all the paradigms of the declension of nouns, 
 pronouns, and verbs. If he does not accomplish this, he will 
 find himself embarrassed in every subsequent step. It is very 
 desirable also tliat he should be familiarly acquainted with the
 
 PRACTICAL ESSAY ON EDUCATION. 31 
 
 rules for the formation of various cases in the fifth declension* 
 of simple nouns ; and lie will derive great advantage from a 
 # frequent perusal of the rules for the formation of the tenses of 
 verbs. It may also be useful to him to be informed, that the 
 verbs in /*i are more clearly exhibited in the Westminster, than 
 in the Eton grammar. 
 
 By statedly writing down the paradigms which he has learnt, 
 he will not only ascertain the correctness of his remembrance, 
 but he will also become familiarly acquainted with the Greek 
 characters. 
 
 When he has thoroughly drilled himself in the grammar, he 
 may proceed to the study of Dalzel's Collectanea Graeca 
 Minora ; a work of modest pretensions, but of transcendent 
 merit, whose author possessed the rarely united accomplish- 
 ments of profound erudition, and a happy facility and benevo- 
 lent desire of communicating instruction. Though qualified 
 to expatiate in the widest field of Grecian literature, he con- 
 descended to sympathize with the tyro he felt his difiiculties, 
 he perceived the obstructions that stop his progress, and skil- 
 fully and satisfactorily removed them. His diligent fidelity, 
 and his careful minuteness of explanation, are beyond all praise. 
 When to all these recommendations is superadded the elegance 
 of his selection from the purest Greek authors, we may con- 
 gratulate the student on the occurrence of an introductory 
 book of such superior excellence. The index subjoined to 
 thi volume supersedes the use of a lexicon. 
 
 Whether the tyro wishes to pursue his studies by the perusal 
 of prose or verse, he is happy in the further assistance of 
 Mr. Dalzel. In that gentleman's two volumes, entitled Col- 
 lectanea Graeca Majora, he will find a treasure of explanatory 
 notes, in which the peculiarities of the Greek idiom are 
 accurately developed. 
 
 In the use of the prose Collectanea, it will be advisable to 
 adopt the plan suggested by the editor in his preface, viz. 
 to begin with the extracts from the easier authors, such as 
 Xenophon and iElian, and afterwards to make trial of Hero-
 
 32 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 dolus, Polyaenus, qnd Thucydides ; and last of all^ to peruse the 
 passages selected from the philosophers, orators, and critics. 
 
 Till he has formed a tolerably familiar acquaintance with 
 the Greek radicals, he will find Hedericus's Lexicon the best 
 adapted to the exigencies of the general study of Greek 
 authors. In process of time, he will derive more pleasure, 
 as well as profit, from the philosophic arrangement of 
 Scapula. 
 
 When he has read ihe historical extracts from Xenophon, 
 he may, by way of variety, apply himself to the study of the 
 poetic Collectanea. This elaborate work is introduced by 
 extensive extracts from Homer's Odyssey. The diligent pe- 
 rusal of these extracts will, with the assistance of Mr. Dal- 
 zel's copious annotations, give him a very competent acquaint- 
 ance with Homer's style. The constant consultation of the 
 Tabella Dialectorum, in the Eton grammar, will soon fami- 
 liarize him to the variations from the standard, that is, the 
 Attic dialect, which perpetually occur in the works of the 
 mighty master of epic song. 
 
 When he has carefully studied the extracts from the Odyssey, 
 he will be well qualified, and, in all probability, inclined to 
 read the Iliad. The Lexicon of Schrevelius was drawn up 
 with a particular reference to this work : and to the unassisted 
 reader of Homer, this manual will frequently be found of great 
 service. The most convenient edition of the Iliad is Heyne's 
 two vols. 8vo. Many of Clarke's notes are very rnstruc- 
 tive ; but the dangerous allurement of a Latin translatit)n, ren- 
 ders his edition a very ineligible book for a tyro. 
 
 During the perusal of the Iliad, however, considerable 
 
 portions of Dalzel's two volumes of Collectanea Majora should 
 
 be daily read. These books, the Greek student may be earnestly , 
 
 exhorted 
 
 Noctuni& versare manii, veraare dium&. 
 
 W^hen the first volume has been thoroughly digested, the 
 student will be able w ith ease and pleasure to read Xenophon's 
 Anabasis. The most useful edition of this interesting work is
 
 PRACTICAL ES^AY ON EDUCATION. S3 
 
 that printed at Oxford, in 1788, in octavo. In die notes, 
 and especially in the Index Graecitatis, they, who are yet 
 inexpert in the Greek tongue, will find many difficulties eluci- 
 dated, and many uncommon senses of words and peculiarities 
 of phrase satisfactorily explained. 
 
 A very elegant work was prinfed at Oxford in 1768, en- 
 titled Tut vcchonuv EfftTa^ioj, or, Funeral Eulogies upon mili- 
 tary men. The index and notes to this work contain a treasure 
 of learning, and the editor has manifested great industry and 
 attention in their composition. 
 
 Considerable benefit may also be derived from the notes on 
 a small collection entitled rioixiAw loTogja, published by Pote, of 
 Eton, in 1785. It will, however, be advisable for the scholar 
 to cut out the Latin translation, which in a great measure 
 destroys the utility of this otherwise valuable manual. 
 
 During the whole of the course of reading which has been 
 delineated, it is indispensably requisite that the student should 
 daily exercise himself in parsing. Inattention to this exercise 
 will be ruinous in its consequences. The method of double 
 translation recommended in the study of the Latin tongue, 
 may be with advantage practised in the study of Grecian litera- 
 ture. Bos's Ellipsis Graecae, and Vigerus de Idiotismis, should 
 be always at hand, as they exemplify and interpret a vast variety 
 of instances of difficult phraseology. 
 
 It is presumed that this course of introductory study will 
 qualify the scholar ta extend, in almost any direction, his 
 researches into Grecian literature. 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 CHAP I. 
 
 ON THE STUDY OF THE BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 What is included in the Belles Lettres Five periods in the progress of 
 knowledge A fine taste necessary to the accomplisiied scholar Utility of 
 the study of the Belles Lettres The foundation to be laid in Grammar, 
 and the knowledge of the languages Importance of the Belles Lettres 
 to different characters. 
 
 IF we examine into the frame of the human taind, we 
 shall perceive that the Supreme Being has not only given us a 
 desire for knowledge, but has also implanted in us a sense of 
 beauty, harmony, and proportion, so that we cannot help 
 receiving a high pleasure from a masterly piece of music, an 
 expressive picture, a sublime poem, and a finished oration, 
 though we are unacquainted with the sources from which the 
 pleasure is derived. But though the liberal and elegant arts 
 aflford us an agreeable entertainment, even when we are 
 ignorant of their principles ; it is certain that our enjoy- 
 ment of them will be more just, lively, and delicate, if we 
 have cultivated our taste, and acquired an accurate and enlarged 
 view of the several things which contribute to the excellence 
 of composition. Hence the importance of a general, not to 
 say an extensive and accurate acquaintance with what arr deno- 
 minated the Belles Lettres, which will enable us not only to 
 judge of the works of others, but in a certain degree, to excel 
 in composition ourselves. Every person who has enjoyed a good 
 education, or whose situation in life presupposes the advan- 
 
 D 2
 
 36 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 tages of early and solid instruction, will be expected to speak 
 and to write his own language with fluency, judgment, and 
 taste. To assist the reader in the attainment of this perfection 
 will be the object of the following chapters. 
 
 The term Belles Lettres is so vague and indeterminate, that 
 we scjircely meet with two writers who have meant by it the 
 same thing. Some persons have maintained that the true 
 Belles Lettres are Natural Philosophy, Geometry, and other 
 branches of Mathematics : some have included in this depart- 
 ment of learning, the polite, or fine arts : and others comprehend 
 under the term, all those useful and instructive branches of 
 learning, which occupy the memory and judgment; such as 
 Geography, Chronology, History, and Heraldry ; and some have 
 given it a more confined meaning^ including in it. Rhetoric, 
 Criticism, Poetry, and Oratory. We shall follow the latter 
 arrangement in our account of Belles Lettres, without ne- 
 glecting, in the other parts of the work, those other subjects 
 connectec[ with General Knowledge. 
 
 Had we nothing farther to ufge in favour of polite learning, 
 than jhat it fumislies an innocent, easy, and refined amusement, 
 even this would render it worthy of attention. In the present 
 state of our nature, it is a happiness to find recreations which 
 are always within our reach, and which result from the situa- 
 tion of our own minds. The Bolles Lettres, in the more exten- 
 sive use of the term, may be considered in a much superior 
 point of view, than merely as administering a relaxation from 
 severer studies : they deserffc to be regarded as matters of no 
 small importance, as having promoted in the highest degree 
 the benefit and glory of individuals and nations. We caimot 
 be insensible, that the periods, and the countries in which the 
 liberal arts have been cherished, and carried to a high degree 
 of perfection, are of all others, the most illustrious and 
 distinguished. 
 
 If we look into the history of the world, we shall perceive 
 five periods that have been particularly famous for their pro- 
 gress in knowledge and taste, which ace thus enumerated :
 
 BELLES LETTRES. 37 
 
 I. The Athenian period, which began before the battle of 
 Marathon, and continued down to the time of Alexaniier the 
 Great. This aera produced Herodotus, Thiicydides, Xeno- 
 phon, Sophocles, Euripides, Pericles, Isocrates, ^schines, 
 Demosthenes, Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, Aristophanes, Me- 
 nander, Phidias, Apelles, and Praxiteles. 
 
 II. The second is the Roman period, which includes 
 Terence, Lucretius, Cicero, Caesar, Sallust, Livy, Virgil, 
 Horace, Varro, and Vitruvius. To these have been added, 
 though they are men unquestionably of an inferior reputation, 
 with regard to the purity of their writings, Paterculus, Florus, 
 Lucan, and Juvenal ; Seneca, Quintilian, and Pliny. 
 
 in. The third is denominated the Arabian period, which, 
 though not to be put on a level with the others, is nevertheless 
 too illustrious to be passed over unnoticed. When the Sara- 
 cens had subdued the countries about them, and had esta- 
 blished considerable kingdoms in Asia, Africa, and Spain,' like 
 other conquerors, they betook themselves to the arts of peace, 
 and the improvement of the human mind. For this purpose 
 tliey translated the best Greek Authors into their own language. 
 Though they did not wholly neglect the politer studies, and 
 even excelled in poetry and history, yet they chiefly gave them- 
 selves up to the sciences, at once sublime, and of practical utili- 
 ty, viz. Astronomy, Chemistry, and Medicine. 
 
 IV. The next is the Italian^ or Medicean period, so called 
 from the great encouragement given to the study, and improve- 
 ment of the Belles Lettres by the illustrious family of the Me- 
 dici. This aera took its rise from the revival of learning and taste 
 in Italy, after the capture of Constantinople, and reached down 
 to the close of the iGth century. In this period are included 
 the celebrated names of Petrarch, Boccacio, Ariosto, Tasso, 
 Guicciardini, Machiavel, Davila, Bembo, and Vida; all of 
 whom are illustrious, in some way or other, for their writings ; 
 and to these are to be added, as ornaments to the arts, Ra- 
 phael, Michael Angelo, Corregio, Guido, Titian, and such
 
 38 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 a constellation of painters and sculptors as the world never 
 produod. 
 
 V. The last period is said to have begun about a century 
 and a half ago, and has continued to the present time. This 
 period is, on some accounts, more illustrious ihan ihe pre- 
 ceding, and has been especially eminent for the general diffu- 
 sion of knowledge and elegance, for the simplicity and refine- 
 ment of the manners of men, and for an extensive improve- 
 ment in the conveniences and embellishments of life. With- 
 out attempting to enumerate all the persons who have adorned 
 these latter times, we may briefly refer to a few of the writers, 
 who by tlieir works have done honour to several countries in 
 modern Europe, particularly to France and England. In the 
 former have flourished a Corneille, a Racine, a Moliere, a 
 Boileau, a Massillon, Flechier, Bossuet, and E^nelon.; and 
 in our own country we recognize the names of a Locke, and 
 Newton ; a Milton, a Dryden, a Pope, a Tillotson, an Atter- 
 bury, Addison, and Swift; a Goldsmith, Johnson, and many 
 others, who deserve to be placed in the same rank, and will 
 receive due honour from posterity. 
 
 If it appear strange that the names of Homer and Pindar 
 have been omitted, it should be recollected, that these great 
 poets flourished before the respective aeras that we have de- 
 scribed. Poetry, and particularly the higher departmeutb of it, 
 arrives sooner at perfection than the other polite arts, or the 
 other branches of general literature. 
 
 The cultivation of the Belles Lettres reflects the highest 
 glory on the individuals who have excelled in the study, as well 
 as on nations who have been benefitted by them. The illus- 
 trious characters whom we ha\'e mentioned, while they have 
 thrown a splendour round the countries and the ages in 
 which they lived, have by their admirable works transmitted 
 their own renown to all succeeding times, and will ever be 
 held in grateful remembrance. Without entering upon the 
 public benefits which flow from the elegant and liberal studies,
 
 BELLES LETTRES. 99 
 
 we may observe, that an extensive acquaintance with, and a 
 just taste for polite literature, will tend to improve the under- 
 standing and to refine the affections and manners. It should 
 be remembered, that we must join a just taste to an extensive 
 acquaintance with polite literature, for otherwise our know- 
 ledge will not greatly avail us. A load of learning will be of 
 small service, if it be not accompanied with a sound judgment, 
 ?nd a lively feeling with respect to the beauties of composition. 
 There are persons in the world, to whose erudition scarcely 
 any thing is unknown, and yet th^ir real character is wejl 
 drawn by Mr. Pope, M'ho says * 
 
 Pains, Reading, Study, are their just pretence ; 
 And all they want, is Spirit, Taste, and Sense! 
 
 But if we apply to the Belles Lettres with a proper degree 
 of discernment, and with hearts disposed to relish the natural 
 and unaffected charms, which are presented to us in the pro- 
 ductions of the best ancient and modern writers, we shall find 
 reason gradually improving, and our sentiments of things be- 
 coming every day more accurate, enlarged, and liberal. The 
 more we converse with the works which have stood the test of 
 ages, and which are formed upon the principles of Classic 
 purity and elegance, the more will our faculties be strength- 
 ened, the greater progress shall we make ia good sense, that 
 most valuable, acquisition ; and the fitter shall we be for ac- 
 quitting ourselves with credit and dignity, in the common 
 duties of our stations. It is the excellence of polite literature, 
 that the objects, on which it is chiefly engaged, are the usual 
 events and affections of social life, so that we cannot increase 
 our acquaintance With it, without increasing our qualifications 
 for acting with wisdom and prudence in the general intercourse 
 with our fellow creatures. 
 
 An extensive acquaintance with, and a just taste for polite 
 literature, will refine the manners, as well as improve the un^ 
 derstanding, a circumstance that should recommend it highly 
 to our regard. The Belles Lettres will contribute to mead
 
 40 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 the heart in a direct way, as the works which are eminent 
 in that branch of knowledge will be found to contain a great 
 number of useful remarks, maxims, and reflections, and as 
 they display a multitude of facts and characters which are cal- 
 culated to make a deep impression upon the mind, and to in- 
 spire it with the true love of virtue and solid glory. But 
 the indirect influence of the liberal sciences is perhaps still 
 more powerful ; a steady application to ihem gradually polishes 
 the human soul, corrects and softens the turbulence of the 
 passions, and introduces a nobleness of thinking, which has a 
 happy effect upon the conduct of life. 
 
 Though there is not that strict and close connexion betweei> 
 a taste for 4iatural, and a taste for moral beauty, which some 
 philosophers have imagined, yet they are not entirely without 
 a relationship. The " elegans spectator formarum," with re- 
 spect to external objects, and the productions of genius, will 
 be better qualified, and disposed to admire the graces of the 
 mind, than others, and even to follow after them, when no 
 extraordinary temptations to the contrary occur in his way. 
 He cannot converse w ith the sages of antiquity ; the illus- 
 trious men of former days, and the works of a fine imagina- 
 tion, without feeling and imbibing in a certain degree, a dig- 
 nity of sentiment and of action. He will be raised above the 
 inducements of vulgar pleasures, and become a more amiable 
 member of society ; accordingly, it may be observed that per- 
 sons of true taste are seldom deficient in the virtues of polite- 
 ness and humanity, whatever vices they may possess of any 
 other kind. 
 
 Having pointed out the general usefulness of the Belles Let- 
 tres, as they are calculated to improve the understanding, and 
 refine the affections and manners, we shall now, in oider that 
 we may be the more sensible of their excellence and impor- 
 tance, mention several of the benefits that spring from those 
 branches of polite learning, separately considered, which come 
 under our immediate cognizance. 
 
 Although music, painting, and sculpture, do not, in this place.
 
 BELLES LETTRES. 41 
 
 fall within our province, yet we may observe, that if we have 
 an easy opportunity of acquiring a taste for, and proficiency in 
 them, they will contribute to our pleasures, and enlarge our 
 sphere of knowledge, but they may be omitted without any 
 prejudice to our reputation ajid pretensions as scholars. Nor 
 is it proposed to enumerate all the advantages resulting from 
 the liberal sciences, but to give such a short and compre- 
 hensive view of the^, as may attract attention, and 'excite 
 diligence. v 
 
 It will not be necessary, that every person shall pursue all 
 that is recommended as worthy of attainment, each will select 
 for himself, what he deems most important to his own feelings, 
 or nearest allied to his situation and rank in society. Few, 
 perhaps, of the readers of this Introduction, will think it to 
 their purpose, to pay any attention to the Greek and Latin 
 languages, and still fewer to the Hebrew, yet we shall touch 
 upon the advantages resulting from the study of them all, be- 
 cause to other persons, whose pursuits, taken up, probably, 
 late in life, force an attention to them, it may be important to 
 know, that to be well grounded in these languages, is of the 
 highest moment. 
 
 The languages now enumerated, are, to certain class of per- 
 sons, justly reckoned the keys of knowledge, and the founda- 
 tion of good taste, so that without a competent knowledge in 
 them, they will stumble at the threshold, and never make any 
 considerable progress in their pursuits. As few books of im- 
 portance are written. in the Hebrew language, excepting the 
 scriptur-es of the Old Testament, it is chiefly useful to divines, 
 but with regard to them, an acquaintance with it is absolutely 
 necessary ; for it is certainly absurd for persons to take upon 
 themselves the office of explainers of revelation, without be- 
 ing abl to have recourse to the tongue in which it was deli- 
 vered. But the Hebrew language merits attention, as a part 
 of the Belles , Lettres, because the Old Testament abounds 
 with the finest strains of poetry and eloquence, the simplicity, 
 grandeur, and beauty of which, cannot be perfectly understood
 
 42 BELLES LETTRE8, 
 
 except by those who have an exact and critical knowledge of 
 the original. 
 
 As to the Greek, it is useful, not only as it was in tliis lan- 
 guage that the charter of our salvation was delivered, but alo 
 with relation to our advancement in polite learning. It was 
 Greece that gave birth to the most eminent poets, orators, 
 historians, and philosophers ; so that to the language of Greece 
 we must apply, if we desire to have a thorough acquaintance 
 with, and a true relish for those natural, unaffected, and sub- 
 lime beauties of composition, which have been the admiration 
 of all ages. The same may be asserted of the Latin tongue, 
 which likewise presents us with a set of fine writers, the disci- 
 ples and rivals of Greece, who will be applauded so long 
 as good sense and good taste subsist in the world. But 
 the Latin is also useful, as it is the vehicle of correspondence 
 among men of letters, and a kind of universal language, in 
 which many capital treatises of modern times have been com- 
 posed, so that unless we are well skilled iu it, we can make 
 but an indifferent progress in several important parts of science. 
 
 In order to our improvement in polite leaniing, we must, in 
 the first place, lay a solid foundation in the principles of Ge- 
 neral Grammar ; we must then enter upon that of Qratory, for 
 the purpose of attaining a clear method in whatever we wish, 
 either by speech or w riling to enforce upon others as principles 
 of truth or duty. Our next concern must be to make ourselves 
 acquainted wilh the rules and art of Rhetoric, contained in 
 works expressly devoted to the purpose. Closely connected 
 with Rhetoric, is the art of Criticism, by which is meant a nice 
 discernment with regard to the beauties and defects of other 
 species of composition besides eloquence. There are several 
 kinds of Criticism, all of which are useful in a certain degree ; 
 even that which relates to tlie different readings of M5S. and 
 conjectural emendations, is often of great importance to the in- 
 terests of literature. At the revival of letters in Europe, tliis 
 art was of the utmost consequence, in order by it to obtain 
 correct editions of Uie ancient authors, which had been muti-
 
 / 
 
 BELLES LETTRES. 43 
 
 lated and Injured by the carelessness or ignorance of transcrib- 
 ers. Nor are- those persons to be despised, or even lightly 
 esteemed, who continue to labour in the same way, and who 
 endeavour to oblige the world with still more perfect and 
 splendid copies of the noble productions of Antiquity. But 
 a still more interesting part of Criticism, is that which applies 
 itself to the higher excellences of writing, which philosophically 
 displays the sources from which they proceed, and feelingly 
 represent their charms ; and which tends both to correct and to 
 refine our taste. We cannot converse too much with those 
 critics who answer to this character, viz, those who are excel- 
 Jent authors, as well as excellenl^judges. We shall reap substan- 
 tia\benefit^rom perusing the works of such men as Lon- 
 ginifl, Qmntilian, Horace, Addison, Hurd, and Lord Kames ; 
 to these, and particularly to the latter, we shall in what 
 follows have frequent recourse. 
 
 ^^Ftora Criticism, we proceed to one of its prime objects, 
 Poet^, which is well deserving of our attention. Those who 
 are fond of this divine art, generally speak of it with such rap- 
 turdfe, as young lovers do of their mistresses. Without, how- 
 ever, losing our reason, or embracing the language of enthusi- 
 asm, we may observe, that many solid advantages will result 
 from an acquaintance with the favorites of the Muses. No- 
 thing is better calculated to enliven and strengthen the imagi- 
 ' nation. Nothing will afford us an equal choice and plenty of 
 words, or give us a^superior insight into the variety and force 
 f of language. Nothing will furnish us with ampler materials 
 for noble expressions and animated figures. But the higher 
 species will perform much more than all this. The Epic, the 
 Tragic, the Lyric, and the Moral kinds, will inspire us with a 
 number of sublime sentiments and reflections, will instruct us 
 in the movement of the passions, and form us to a striking and 
 pathetic manner of composition. The graces of writing will 
 be acquired from reading the poets, sooner than from any 
 other source, and perhaps, there never was a person wholly 
 unmindful of them, that was a truly elegant author ; and if is
 
 44 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 no mean recommendation of tlie Poets, that several of them 
 ' may be ranked among our best prose writers. History, on 
 which we shall soon enlarge, is another very important part of 
 ji the Belles Lettres, but the benefits derived from the study 
 
 * of it, need not be recounted here, they will be better enume- 
 
 rated hereafter. It may however be observed, that it qualifies 
 us for the right conduct of life, whatever be the station we 
 fill. This, connected with biography, presents to the view 
 a thousand illustrious characters, actions, and events, deserv- 
 ^^ ing of our attention. It opens to our mind the great objects 
 of government and morality. It sets before us the discoveries 
 of science, the improvements of art, and the progress of hu-^ 
 man reason. ^^ m 
 
 Another circumstance well worthy of our attentioff w iff be, 
 the obtaining some acquaintance with the sentiments and 
 systems of the ancient philosophers. T4 this may be added 
 miscellaneous learning, which is almost Ventirely a mid^ui 
 acquisition. The ancients generally are either poets, or orators, 
 *^**~^ or philosophers, or historians, or critics ; but the moderns have 
 
 produced a multitude of performances which cannot fcro- \ 
 perly be ranked with any of these species, and yet are not 
 to be neglected. Under the denomination of miscellaneous 
 learning, may be ranked the Spectator, the Guardian, Ram- 
 bler, Adventurer, &c. ; fictitious history, productions of 
 wit and humour, together with occasional dissertations andV 
 essays. 
 
 With regard to the Tmportance of the study of the Belles 
 Lettres, it may be assumed, that it will assist us in attaining 
 a clear, harmonious, and forcible style, which is a matter of 
 great consequence to those who have to convey their ideas to 
 others. Perspicuity is indispensable to the writer or the 
 speaker, and without it, all that a person says or does, in the 
 way of literature, can be of no avdil. If we do not express 
 our sentiments in a manner that is easy to be understood, our 
 labour will be lost. Nor is the harmony of language to be 
 considered as a trivial accomplishment. A taste for it is im- 
 
 ^4/AHe#M
 
 BELLES LETTRES. * 45 
 
 planted in the human breast, and persons will find themselves 
 pleased and affected by it, though they cannot assign a rear 
 son for the influence it has upon them. Besides, the clearness 
 of a discourse will frequently be seen to depend greatly on a 
 just and elegant arrangement of the terms we make use of. 
 As to.a forcible style, there can be no doubt about its excel- 
 lency, since it must be exceedingly important to have our ^ 
 thoughts come with weight upon the minds of our readers or /, 
 hearers. It may probably be asserted, without fear of con- 
 tradiction, that none, who were wholly ignorant of polite lite- 
 rature, ever united in their works, a perspicuous, harmoni- 
 ous, 'and strong manner of expression. They must have been 
 ficient in one or more, *or all of these qualities. It is only 
 by convemng with the fine writers of ancient and modem 
 times;, it is only by applying to the liberal studies, that we 
 caiif learn to comninicate our sentiments at once with clear- 
 k new, gracefulness" and strength; and a happy conjunction of 
 
 * Nearness, gracefulness, and strength, will add an efficacy to our ^ 
 
 compositions that cannot be easily described. The ancients 
 were thoroughly sensible of the benefits resulting from the 
 unji)n of the qualities just enumerated, and therefore applied 
 / themselves to the acquisition of polite learning with incredi- 
 ble ardour and perseverance. For this purpose they entered 
 into an accurate discussion of the nature and combination of 
 long and short sounds, and the beauty and vigour which a > 
 discourse may derive from a judicious management of nume- 
 rical feet. By these means they brought their eloquence to 
 ^f a surprizmg point of perfection, and though it may net be 
 ll necessary for us to carry the matter so far as they did, yet 
 
 W something of the same care would meet with arf ample 
 
 L reward. 
 
 With respect to ^hose who would apply themselves to the 
 
 ^ study of the sacred volume, it may be observed, that a proper 
 
 knowledge and taste in the Belles Lettres, will enable them 
 
 to enter with more discernment and spirit into the sense of 
 
 the Scriptures, in general, and especially into the elegance 
 
 -.3
 
 46 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 and force of particular passages. A thorough acquaintance 
 with the sacred records will be of vast importance to those 
 who undertake to explain their meaning, and enforce the doc- 
 trines and duties inculcated in them. Nothing, perhaps, will 
 better prepare a person for this acquaintance, than a previous 
 study of the authors who are eminent in the republic of. polite 
 learning, hence he will acquire that true genius of criticism, 
 which will enable him to rise above grammatical trifles, and to 
 survey with full scope and energy, the places he has occasion to 
 illustrate; hence he will peruse the writmgs of the inspired pen- 
 men with something of the ardour with which they themselves 
 wrote, which must surely be the most likely way of discover- 
 ing tlieir design and meaning. 'Had commentators b^n' 
 usually men of taste, the world would not have been loaded 
 with such a number of tedious and insipid performances. 
 But a competent progress in the liberal/studics, will be of 
 signal service in enabling a person to asce'ain the beauty \nd 
 emphasis of many particular passages of Scripture. In this, 
 an accurate knowledge of the Belles Lettres will most emi- 
 nently display itself. Those who are conversant with the best 
 writers, will frequently, by producing a parallel sentimeift or 
 mode of expression, throw extraordinary light and lustre on 
 certain passages in ancient literature. Raphelius, Elmer, 
 Bos, iind others, have made excellent use of their learning ip 
 this respect. Indeed, it is only the person of taste who is 
 likely to feel strongly, and describe the sublimity, the elo- 
 quence, the pathos, and the energy of a thousand places, which 
 are to be met with in the works of antiquity, and especially in 
 the sacred records. 
 
 Those who have to plead for, and widi their fellow crea- 
 tures, will find a knowledge of polite hterature of great ad- 
 vantage in striking the afifections, which is of much conse- 
 quence to the writer and orator. Some have held this part of 
 the business as of little moment. If, indeed, men had been 
 iramed without passions, we should have had nothing to do but 
 to speak to their reason and understanding ; or if the business
 
 BELLES LETTRES. 47 
 
 of the orator were only with the discerning few, who always 
 followed the cool dictates of the rational faculties, it would be 
 quite sufficient to enumerate, as simply and plainly as possible, 
 those facts and arguments by which they ought to be governed. 
 But considering man as he reaHy is, it is of the highest im- 
 portance to address his feelings as well as his judgment ; we 
 should endeavour to touch the strings of his soul, and to 
 awaken his gratitude, his shame, his joy, his fear, and his hopes. 
 This can be effectually done, only by being ourselves under 
 the influence of the principles recommended by the dignity and 
 weight of the subjects that we treat upon, and by ^the internal 
 strength of the motives with which they are enforced. In the 
 manner of striking the affecfions, we shall receive much help 
 from a knowledge and taste in the Belles Lettres : we shall 
 learn a more lively and animated strain of composition, and 
 a more suitable and engaging method of appealing to the 
 heart. 
 
 History vvill furnish us with many excellent observations 
 and illustrious facts, which cannot fail, when properly intro- 
 duced and represented, of making a powerful impression upon 
 those whom we address in our discourses, whether by the 
 press or from the pulpit. The Orators will shew us the way 
 of insinuating ourselves into the good will of those for whoniv 
 we write, and to whom we speak : they will teach the ma- 
 nagement of those figures that speak powerfully to the pas- 
 sions. The epic and tragic poets will describe the sublime, 
 the affecting, and tender emotions of the mind, instruct us in 
 the sources of pity and terror, and tell us the language that is 
 fitted to excite themf 
 
 Finally; a competent progress in the liberal studies will 
 prevent our compositions, on the one hand, from being care~ 
 less and incorrect, and on the other from being jejune and 
 spiritless. These are two extremes which ought most studi- 
 ously to be avoided. If we are remarkably defective in ac- 
 curacy, though we abound in other excellences, we shall 
 disgust the judicious ; but if we are cold and lifeless, we shall
 
 48 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 be guilty of a more disagreeable fault, and the best method of 
 avoiding both these defects, will be by a diligent application 
 to the Belles Lettres. These will not only teach us to guard 
 against glaring improprieties, but will oblige us likewise to be 
 dissatisfied with a languid correctness. They will instruct us 
 to put our thoughts into their proper place ; to introduce 
 them with delicacy and address, and clothe them with decent 
 ornament. In short, the Belles Lettres will give a colouring, 
 a grace, and an energy to our sentiments, which Mill be 
 highly advantageous to the scholar in every department of 
 literature.
 
 ^ CHAP. II. 
 
 OF LANGUAGE. 
 
 Definition of language and articulation Description of the voice, and op 
 what it depends Of letters, syllables, and words Rise and origin of 
 language Names of things, how selected Interjections Origin of ac- 
 tion Causes of metaphorical language Origin of different kinds of 
 writing Discovery of letters Account of Cadmus Methods and ma- 
 terials of writing, 
 
 JLANGUAGE may be defined to be a set of words that 
 any people have agreed upon, by which to communicate their 
 thoughts to each other. Or, 'more generally, by language 
 may be understood the expression of our ideas by certain arti- 
 culate sounds, which are used as the signs of those ideas. 
 
 Articulation is the form or character which the voice ac- 
 quires, by means of the mouth, and its several organs and ap- 
 pendages, as the teeth, the tongue, the lips, the larynx, &c. 
 The voice, by articulation, is not made more loud or soft, 
 which are said to be its primary qualities, but it acquires, in 
 addition to these characters, others that may exist with them. 
 The simplest of these new characters, are those acquired 
 through the openings of the mouth, as these openings differ 
 in giving the voice a passage ; and from the several configura- 
 tions of these openings proceed vowels. There are other ar- 
 ticulate forms which the mouth makes, not by mere openings, 
 but by different contacts of its several parts, such as it makes 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 by the junction of the lips ; of the tongue with tlie teeth ; 
 of the tongue with the palate, and the like. These contacts 
 are preceded, or immediately followed, by some opening of 
 the mouth ; and the articulations so produced are denominated 
 consonants. 
 
 The voice is produced by the larynx, which is a hollow 
 organ placed between the root of the tongue and the trachea, 
 or wind-pipe, which gives a passage to thfe air into and out of 
 the lungs in respiration. 
 
 The larynx is composed of cartilaginous pieces, moved in 
 various directions by voluntary muscles, on the motion of 
 which, habit and practice confer a vast precision. Thus^ 
 voice is to speech, in relation to the muscles of the larjnx, 
 what the rude movements of the fingers of the savage, are to 
 the precise and delicate motions of a man ea>ployed in the 
 finest mechanical arts. Tlie principle is the same, the results 
 only are different. It is a general law in the organs of volun- 
 tary motion, that they acquire perfection by exercise, that 
 tfaey are in short susceptible of education. 
 
 Speech, tlierefore, may be considered as the formation o( 
 the voice, produced by means of tlie organs about the throat, 
 nose, and moutli, into articulated sounds, by which men 
 communicate their tlioughts to each other. All animals have 
 a Voice, but man alone speaks, in the sense now alluded to. 
 
 If a letter be a sound that cannot be resolved into more 
 simple elementif, speech is the formation of the voice inta 
 ihe sounds expressed by letters, and the composition of word 
 from these. Letters, as we have seen, are divided into vowels 
 and consonants : the former are produced simply by the voice 
 passing through the mouth, opened to a greater or less degree, 
 without the aid of the tongue. The latter, are sounds pro- 
 nounced with the vowels, and modifying or limiting them : 
 they have, therefore, either expressed or understood, vowels 
 before or after them. The sound of the vowel in these case* 
 is altered, by the tongue being applied to some part in 111*^ 
 cavity of the mouth, striking against the teeth or lips.
 
 LANGUAGE. . 5i 
 
 The smallest combinations of letters produce a syllable; 
 S)'llables, properly joined, make a word ; words duly com- 
 bined form a sentence ; and from sentences are produced 
 orations, discourses, &,c. So that to principles apparently 
 very trivial, as, to about twenty elementary sounds, we owe 
 that variety of articulate words which have been sufficient to 
 explain the sentiments of all the present and past generations 
 of men. 
 
 Language may be considered, as signifying the expression 
 of our ideas by articulate sounds, which are used as the signs 
 of those ideas. In a more general sense, the word language is 
 . sometimes used to denote the sounds by which animals of all 
 kinds express their particular feelings and impulses, in a man- 
 ner that is intelligible to their own species. Between, how- 
 ever, the language of man, in a civilized state, and that of 
 other inferior animals, there is but little analogy. Human 
 language is capable of expressing ideas and notions, of which 
 it is probable the brute creation can have no conception. 
 Speech, according to the ancients, is made to indicate what 
 is expedient and what is hiexpedient, and in consequence of 
 this, what is just or unjust ; and, therefore, it is peculiar to 
 man, who alone possesses a sense of right and wrong, of the 
 expedient and inexpedient. 
 
 Few subjects are more difficult than the attempt to account 
 for the rise and origin of language. As there are no facts to 
 lead us to suppose that articulated language is the result of instinct, ^ 
 the inquiry is interesting and important, though embarrassed 
 with much difficulty, how mankind were first induced to fa- 
 bricate sounds, and employ them for the purpose of commu- 
 nicating their thoughts. Children learn to speak by insensible 
 imitation, and when advanced in life, they learn other languages, 
 th^n what they hear spoken about them, under proper instruc- 
 tors, or through the medium of books ; but the first men had 
 no speakers to imitate, and no formed language to study. By 
 what means then did they learn to speak? On this question, 
 only two opinions can be formed. Either language must have 
 
 E 2
 
 ,.f 
 
 52 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 been originally rcxealcd from heaven, or it is the fruit of hu' 
 man industry. The greater part of Jews and Christians, and 
 some learned and inquiring Pagans, have embraced the former 
 opinion, which seems to be supported by tlie authority of 
 Moses, who represents the Creator as teaching our first 
 parents the names of animals. 'Die latter opinion is held 
 by Diodorus Siculus, Lucretius, Horace, and many other 
 Greek and Roman writers, who maintain that language was 
 an art invented by ifian. The first men, they say, lived for 
 some time in woods and caves, uttering only confused and in- 
 distinct noises, till associating for mutual assistance, they came 
 by degrees to use articulate sounds, mutually agreed upon for 
 the arbitrary signs or marks of those ideas in the mind of the 
 speaker, which he wanted to communicate to the hearer. 
 
 It is certain, that men could not have instituted civil polity, 
 or have carried on by concert any cooimon work, without com- 
 municating their designs to each other, and there are four 
 ways by which it has been thought that this could have been 
 done before the invention of speech, viz. (1) By inarticulate 
 cries, expressive of sentiments and passions. (2) Gestures, 
 and the expression of countenance. (3) Imitative sounds, ex- 
 pressive of audible things ; and (4) Painting, by which visible 
 objects may be represented. Of these methods of communi- 
 cation, it is plain that only two have any connexion with lan- 
 ''uage, viz. inarticulate cries, and imitative sounds : the latter 
 must probably be abandoned, as having contributed nothing 
 to tlie invention of articulation, though it may have assisted 
 in its progressive advancement. Therefore, inarticulate cries 
 only must be looked to, as having given rise to the formation 
 of language, if it were an art acquired by human ingenuity 
 alone. 
 
 IMany of our best modern writers, among whom are War- 
 burton, Johnson, Beattie, and Blair, maintain that language was 
 originally revealed from heaven ; and they regard the accounts of 
 its human invention as supposititious, depending upon no fixed 
 principle. The op'mions of the ancients, as tliey are called,
 
 LANGUAGE. 5S 
 
 in their estimation, claim no greater authority than those of 
 other men, because language was formed and brought to a 
 great degree of perfection, long before the aera of any histo- 
 rian that has come down to modern times ; of course the anti- 
 quity of the Greek and Roman writers, gives them no advan- 
 tage in this inquiry, over the philosophers of the present or 
 last century. 
 
 If, however, the first language were communicated to man 
 by inspiration, it must, it may be imagined, have been per- 
 fect, and held in higli reverence by those who spoke it ; and 
 would, in fact, have become universal, or the language of all 
 mankind. But we know that a vast variety of languages have 
 prevailed in the world, of which some are very imperfect, 
 and others have unquestionably been lost. Now if different 
 languages were originally invented by different nations, this 
 would naturally folio w from the mixture of these nations ; whereas 
 it should seem, that no motive sufficiently powerful could 
 have been offered, to induce men, possessed of one perfect lan- 
 guage of divine original, to forsake it for others of their own 
 invention, that would, in every respect, be inferior to that with 
 which they or their forefathers had been inspired. 
 
 In answer to this, it is said, that nothing was given by in- 
 spiration, but the faculty of speech and elements of language ; 
 and that men have modified it by their natural powers, in the 
 same way as thousands improve what they could not invent. 
 The first language, if given by inspiration, would have been 
 perfect in its principles, but, probably, not copious : it was 
 - sufficient that a foundation was laid of such a nature as would 
 support the largest superstructure, which men might ever have 
 occasion to raise upon it, and that they were taught the method 
 of rearing this superstructure by composition and deri%'ation. 
 This theory, while it preserves the language radically the 
 same, admits the introduction of different dialects in different 
 countries over which men spread themselves. Every new 
 region and every new climate suggests different ideas, and 
 creates different wants, which would produce great diversity,
 
 dX BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 even in the firsi elements of speech, among all savage nations ; 
 the words retained of the original language being used in 
 various senses, and pronounced with various accents. When 
 any of these tribes emerged from barbarism, the improvement 
 and copiousness of their language would keep pace with their 
 own progress in knowledge, and the arts of life. Superior 
 refinement may induce imitation, conquest may impose a 
 language, and extension of empires may melt down different 
 nations and different dialects into one mass ; but independent 
 tribes, without any other collateral circumstances, naturally 
 give rise to a diversity of languages. The variety of tongues, 
 therefore, the copiousness of some, and the narrowness of 
 otliers, furnish no solid objection to the divine origin of lan- 
 guage ;* for, whether it was at first revealed from heaven, or, 
 in the course of ages, was invented by men, a multitude of 
 dialects would inevitably arise as soon as the human race was 
 separated into a number of distinct and independent nations. 
 
 After all, we pretend not to decide on this controversy, it 
 is sufficient for our purpose to have very briefly stated the 
 arguments on both sides. On either theory, it is admitted 
 that the first rudiments of speech were very contracted, and 
 we may accordingly proceed to mquire in what manner, and by 
 what steps, language advanced to the state in which we now 
 find it. If we suppose 9 period to exist before any words 
 were invented or ktiown, it is clear that men could have had 
 no other method of communicating their feelings to others, 
 than by cries of passion, accompanied by such motions and 
 gestures as were expressive of emotion. These are the only 
 signs which nature teaches all men, and which, being natural 
 to all, are understood by all. These exclamations, therefore, 
 called, by grammarians, interjections, uttered in a strong 
 and passionate manner, were, undoubtedly, the elements of 
 speech. See the following chapters. 
 
 When a more enlarged communication became requisite, 
 and names began to be applied to objects, these names must 
 have been chosen by assimilating, as much as possible, the
 
 LANGUAGE. 55 
 
 (nature of ibe object to be named, to the sound which they gave 
 it : thus, to any thing harsh or boisterous, a harsh or boisterous 
 sound would be applied, in the same manner as a painter 
 would represent grass by using a green colour. He could not 
 act otherwise, if he desired to excite in the hearer the idea of 
 that object which he wished to name. To imagine words 
 invented, or names given to things, in a manner purely arbi- 
 trary, is to suppose an effect without a cause. There must 
 have been some motive which led to one name rather than an- 
 other, and no motive would more generally operate upon men, 
 in their first efforts towards language, than a desire to describe, 
 by speech, the objects which they named, in a manner more 
 Of less complete, according as it was in the power of the 
 human voice to effect this imitation. In all languages, a mul- 
 titude of words are evidently constructed on this principle : a 
 certain bird is named a cuckoo, from the sound which it emits ; 
 one sort of wind is said to roar, another to whistle, and .we 
 all know what is meant by the terms thus applied ; a bullet 
 from a musket is said to make a whizzing noise ; a serpent is 
 said to hiss, a fly to buzz ; and the falling of a building is said 
 to come with a crash : a heavy and violent rain is said to pour, 
 nd hail to rattle. In all these, and a multitude of other cases, 
 the resemblance between the word, and the thing signified, is 
 plainly discernible. 
 
 It will be readily admitted, that this principle of a natural 
 relation between words and objects, can only be applied to 
 language in its simple and early state ; and though there are 
 remains of it to be traced, it would be vain and hopeless 
 to search for it throughout the whole construction of any 
 modem language. As the number of terms increase among 
 every people, and the vast field of language is filled up, words, 
 by a thousand fanciful and irregular methods of derivation 
 and composition, deviate widely from their primitive roots, 
 and lose all resemblance in sound to the things signified. Such 
 ]b the existing state of language. Words, as we now use 
 tJieip, may be considered as symbols, not as imitations^ ag 
 
 Utk^:
 
 56 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 arbitrary, not natural signs of ideas. But there seems to be 
 no doubt, that language, the nearer we can approach to its 
 rise among men, will be found to partake more of a natural 
 expression. .,. 
 
 Passionate exclamations, or, as they arc denominated, in- 
 terjections, were the first elements of speech. Men laboured 
 to communicate their feelings to each other, by those expres- 
 sive cries or gestures vyjiich nature taught them. After the 
 names of things began to be introduced, the mode of speak- 
 ing by natural signs would not be abandoned at once ; for 
 language, in its infancy, we can readily imagine, must have 
 been extremely barren, and, for a considerable period, among 
 rude nations, conversation would be carried on by meaus of 
 few words, intermixed with exclamations and earnest gestures. 
 To this mode of speaking, necessity at first gave rise. But 
 after the necessity had ceased, by language becoming more 
 copious, the ancient mode of speech still subsisted among 
 many nations, and wliat had arisen from necessity, continued 
 to be used for ornament. In the Greek and Roman languages, 
 a musical and gesticulating pronunciation was retained in a coiiKi- 
 derable degree : the declamations of their orators, and the pronun 
 ciation of their actors upon the stage, approached to die nature 
 of what is denominated recitative in music ., was capable of 
 being marked in notes, and supported with instruments. The 
 case was parallel with respect to gestures ; for strong tones and 
 animated gestures always go together. The action, both of 
 the orators and players in Greece and Rome, was far more 
 vehement thim that to which we are accustomed ; and Cicero 
 says,' that it was a contest between him and Roscius, whether 
 he could express a sentiment in a greater variety of phrases, 
 or Roscius in a greater variety of intelligent, significant gestures. 
 At length gesture, entirely engrossed the stage ; and the fa- 
 vourite entertainment was pantomime, which was carried on 
 by gesticulation only. 
 
 The early language of mankind being entirely composed of 
 words descriptive of sensible objects, became, of necessity.
 
 LANGUAGE. 5? 
 
 extremsly metaphorical. To signify any feeling of the ipind, 
 they had no particular expression which was appropriated to 
 the purpose, but they were ol^liged to paint the emotion which 
 they felt, by alluding to sensible objects which had most con- 
 nexion with it ; and w hich could render it, in some degree, 
 visible to others. 
 
 As language became more copious, it gradually lost its 
 figurative style, .which was its original characteristic. The 
 vehement manner of speaking by tones and gestures became 
 less universal. Instead of poets, philosophers became the 
 instructors of the world ; &nd, in their reasonings on all sub- 
 jects, they introduced that plainer and more simple style of 
 composition which is now denominated prose : and, at length, 
 the metaphorical and poetical dress of language was reserved 
 for those occasions only, in which ornament was professedly 
 studied. 
 
 Writing is an improvement upon speech, and consequently 
 was subsequent to it in the order of time. Its characters are 
 of two kinds : either signs for things, or signs for words. Thus 
 the pictures, hieroglyphics, and symbols employed by the 
 ancients, were of the former sort ; the alphabetical, now em- 
 ployed by Europeans, of the latter. 
 
 Pictures were certainly used in the first graphical attempts 
 of mankind, because men are naturally prone to imitation ; 
 and, therefore, a rude picture would soon be employed for 
 giving imperfect descriptions of events, and for recording their 
 remembrance of facts, or of a beloved object. Thus, to sig- 
 nify that one man had killed another, they painted the figure 
 of a dead man lying on the ground, and another standing over f 
 him with a hostile weapon in his hand. This was the only 
 kind of writing made use of by the Mexicans, when America 
 was first discovered. It was, however, a very imperfect mode 
 of recording facts, since, by pictures, external events could 
 only be delineated. 
 
 Hieroglyphical characters may, be considered as the second 
 stage in the art of writing. These consist in certain symbols.
 
 58 BELLES LET IRES. 
 
 which are made to represent invisible objects, on account of a 
 resemblance which such symbols are supposed to bear to the 
 objects themselves. Thus a circle, having neither beginning 
 nor end, was 'the symbol of eternity ; a lion was the hiero- 
 glyphic of strength ; a horse, of liberty. Egypt was the country 
 where this kind of writing was roost studied, and brought into 
 a regular art. The Egyptians contrived to make their hiero- 
 glyphics both pictures and characters : in effecting this im- 
 provement- they proceeded gradually, by first making the prin- 
 cipal circumstance of the subject stand for the whole ; thus 
 they represented a battle of two armies in array, by two hands, 
 one holding a shield, and the other, a bow : then putting the 
 instrument representing the thing, whether real or metapho- 
 rical, for the thing itself; as an eye and sceptre to represent a 
 monarch ; a ship and pilot, the Governor of the universe ; 
 and finally, by making one thing stand for, and represent an- 
 other, where they discovered or imagined any resemblance ; 
 thus the universe was designed by a serpent m a circle, whose 
 variegated spots deaotedi the stars. The Egyptians, also, 
 pitched upon animals to be the emblems of moral objects, 
 according to the qualities with which they supposed them to 
 be endowed : thus, imprudence was denoted by a fly j wisdom, 
 or foresight, by an ant ; and victory, by a hawk. 
 
 The Chinese writing was the next improvement in the use 
 of hieroglyphics. The Egyptians joined characteristic marks 
 to injages, the Chinese threw out the images, and retained 
 only the contracted marks ; and from these marks proceeded 
 letters, which they use to this day. They have no alphabet 
 of letters or simple sounds, of which their words are com- 
 posed, but every single character is expressive of an idea : it 
 is a mark which signifies some one thing or object. The 
 number of these characters is, of course, almost immense ; 
 seventy or eighty thousand have been enumerated, so that to 
 become tolerably acquainted with them, is the business of a 
 whole life, a circumstance that will readily account for the 
 jimall progress that is made by the Chinese in literature and
 
 LANGUAGE. 59 
 
 evfery kind of science. It is certain that the Chineje cha- 
 racters are of the same nature with hieroglyphics they are 
 the signs of things, and not of words ; for the inhabitants of 
 Japan, Tonquin, Korea, &c. who speak different languages 
 from each other, and also from the Chinese, employ the same 
 written characters with them, and thus correspond intelligibly 
 with one another iu writing, though they are ignorant of the 
 language spoken in the respective countries. The figures that 
 we use in arithmetic, afford an exemplification of this sort of 
 writing. They have no dependence on words, each figure 
 represents the number for which it stands, and consequently 
 is equally understood by all nations who have agreed in the use 
 of figures. 
 
 To remedy the imperfections which attached themselves to 
 each of the methods of communication above referred to, was 
 the invention of signs, which should stand, not directly for 
 things, but words, by which things were distinguished from one 
 another ; hence it is probable an alphabet x)f syllables was in- 
 vented previously to an alphabet of letters. Such is even said 
 to be retained, at this day, in Ethiopia, and some countries 
 of the East. This, on account of the number of characters 
 wanted, would have rendered reading and writing very com- 
 plex and laborious ; and it, at length, gave way to the grand 
 discovery of letters. To whom we are indebted for this sub- 
 lime invention, we know not. They were, unquestionably, 
 brought into Greece, by a person denominated in history, 
 Cadmus, but who this Cadmus was, is not so easily deter- 
 mined. According to Blair, he was a Phoenician, and arrived 
 in Greece about 1500 years before the Christian era, bringing 
 with him sixteen letters, the others being added by Palamedes 
 and Simonides, viz. four by each. 
 
 Those who have investigated this subject, admit that much 
 difficulty is attached to it ; but they say, that the similarity in 
 name and figure, of the Phoenician, Hebrew, Greek, and 
 Roman alphabets, is a decisive proof that they were originally 
 derived from the same source.
 
 60 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 To Cadmus also we are indebted for the first establishment 
 of schools; he is said, likewise, to have taught the mysteries of 
 trade and navigation to the Grecians; and from him was de- 
 rived the epithet Cadmean, as applicable to brass, he being 
 the inventor of this species of metal, and introduced the use 
 of it into Greece. - 
 
 Although Dr. Blair dates the arrival of Cadmus from the 
 year 1493, B. C, yet this event is, by Sir Isaac Newton, re- 
 ferred to a much later period, viz. 1045 years before the birth 
 of Christ. Sir Isaac Newton imagines that the emigration of 
 the Phoenicians and Syrians, was occasioned by the conquests 
 of David. " These people," he says, " ileeing from Zidon 
 and from David, came, under the conduct of Cadmus and 
 other captains, into Asia Minor, Crete, Greece, and Lybia, 
 and introduced letters, music, poetry, metals and their fabri- 
 cation, and the other arts, sciences, and customs of the Phoe- 
 nicians. This happened about one hundred and forty years 
 before the Trojan war, and it was about the sixteenth year of 
 David's reign, that Cadmus fled from Zidon." 
 
 The ancient order of writing was from the right hand to 
 the left: afterwards, the Greeks used to write their lines alter- 
 nately from right to left, and from the left to the right. This 
 continued to the time of Solon, and, at length, the motion 
 from the left hand to the right being found more natural 
 and convenient, it w^s adopted throughout all the nations of 
 Europe. 
 
 Writing was first exhibited on pillars and tables of stone, 
 afterwards upon metals : as it became practised more exten- 
 Mvely, the leaves and bark of trees were used in some coun- 
 tries ; and in others, tablets of wood, covered with a thin coat 
 of soft wax, on which the impression was made with a stylus 
 of iron. Parchment, manufactured from the hides of animals, 
 was an early inrention ; but paper, the great discovery of 
 modem times, was not made till the fourteenth century. 
 
 Having thus considered the origin of the elements of lan- 
 guage, we may pass on to its stracture: this comprehends
 
 LAI^GUAGK. 61 
 
 the nature and arrangement of the different parts of speech, 
 which will be considered at large in the succeeding chapters 
 devoted to Grammar, observing, however, that grammatical 
 rules have not sufficient authority to control the established 
 usage of language ; established custom, both in speaking and 
 writing, is the standard to which we must at last resort for 
 determining every controverted point in language and style. 
 Grammatical rules are, however, not to be regarded as use- 
 less. In every language that has been cultivated, there pre- 
 vails a certain structure and analogy of parts, which is under- 
 stood to be the foundation of the commonly received modes 
 of speech, and which, in all cases of doubt, possesses con- 
 siderable authority. 
 
 Usage and custom, with respect to language, are entirely 
 independent of reason ; and on these, as a just foundation, 
 commences grammar, a plan of which supposes a language 
 already introduced by use, and, without pretending to alter 
 or amend a tittle, only furnishes reflections, called rules, to 
 which the manner of speaking, adopted in that language, may 
 be reduced ; which reflections, or rules, make up the grammar 
 of that language.
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 ON GRAMMAR. 
 
 Arrangement of Words Tlie Nonn Abstract Nouns Number Gender 
 AdnouD Pronoun. 
 
 1 HE Grammar of any language, as we have seen, is a set of 
 rules and observations, directing to the proper use of the sorts 
 of words composing that language. These rules are founded 
 upon the general usage of good writers ; and after this is 
 ascertained, it is customary for those who are desirous of 
 speaking and writing correctly, to be uniformly guided by it. 
 
 The Art of Grammar is sometimes divided into four parts : 
 Orthography, Etymology, Syntax, and Prosody. The first 
 and last of these have nothing to do with grammar^ except so 
 far as they relate to the grammatical changes made on dif- 
 ferent sorts of words. Etymology refers to the arrangements 
 of the sorts of words, and to the various changes M'hich are 
 made upon them. Syntax directs the employment of those 
 changes, and the situation of different sorts of words in a 
 sentence. 
 
 i Considered as a science. Grammar has for its object, those 
 principles on which its rules are founded. Scientific Gram- 
 mar discusses the grounds of the classification of words, and 
 investigates the reasons of those procedures which the art of 
 grammar lays down for our observance.
 
 GRAMMAR. 6S 
 
 Grammar, as an art, refers only to particular languages \ 
 because it would be impossible to lay down any system of 
 rules which would apply to two languages. We may point 
 out in what respects the grammars of two languages agree ; 
 but we cannot form a common grammar for both. To a cer- 
 tain extent, the principles of scientific grammar are general, 
 and some of them may be said to be universal. The laws of 
 the human mind are the same in all ages, and in all nations ; 
 and of those causes which have called forth its energies, many 
 have operated universally. Whatever have been the variety 
 of terms, and of the modification and arrangement of them, 
 the grand objects of men, in the formation and extension of 
 language, have been the same, to communicate their sensa- 
 tions, their judgments, their reasonings, to express the ob- 
 jects of their thoughts, and the changes and connexions 
 observed among them, and to do this with dispatch. This 
 has produced great uniformity in the general principles of 
 language. But the connexion between words and thoughts is 
 arbitrary, as well as the mode of connecting words them- 
 selves. Hence, with much uniformity, we meet with much 
 variety ; and hence, universal or even general grammar, must 
 be confined within very narrow limits, till the phenomena of 
 a variety of languages have been examined, and their corres- 
 pondence with each other, as well as their diversities, ascer- 
 tained. We shall here content ourselves with making the 
 philosophy of our own language our principal object, though 
 we shall occasionally be led to state the more general prin- 
 ciples of grammar, and derive some of our illustrations from 
 other languages. Such a mode of procedure may contribute 
 to render the practical use of our own language more clear 
 and certain. 
 
 Of the Arrangement of Words. The first object 
 of Scientific Grammar is, to form an arrangement of the 
 sorts of words (or parts of speech) composing a language. In 
 languages which admit of various changes in the form of 
 words, to denote changes of meaning, the arrangement, in a
 
 64 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 great degree, is pointed out for the grammarian ; and a tech- 
 nical classification wilf, in such cases, have a decided supe- 
 riority over one founded purely upon scientific principles. In 
 languages like our own, we are less shackled by the contrivances 
 of ai t ; yet our arrangements ought to have practical conve- 
 nience in view. 
 
 The true principle of classification seems to be, not essen- 
 tial differences in the origin or signification of words, but the 
 mode in which they are employed. It should, however, be 
 steadily kept in view, that all distinctions among the sorts of 
 ><'Ords, have gradually arisen out of the circumstances in which 
 language has been formed, and has proceeded towards matu- 
 rity ; and that such distinctions are by no means to be ex- 
 tended beyond the present employment of words. It is 
 necessary, for convenience and dispatch, that we arrange ; but 
 arrangement must not supersede further examination. The 
 fact is, that originally there could have been but one sort of 
 words, the names of the objects of our sensations and ideas. 
 From these, all others must have sprung ; but, without words 
 expressing aj^irmation, language must have moved very 
 slowly, and often have been very ambiguous ; and therefore 
 we may reasonably suppose, that the ever active principles of 
 association would soon transform nouns into verbs, by making 
 them, in certain situations, expressive of affirmation. From 
 these two classes all the rest have sprung. 
 
 The objects of sense and intellect are, in reality, nothing 
 more than properties, or collections of properties. The 
 mind, however, resorts to a support for those properties ; 
 something by which they are connected ; in which they exist : 
 and this we call substance. As far, however, as this word 
 has any definite meaning, it signifies nothing more than a col- 
 lection of properties existing, or capable of existing, inde- 
 pendently of other properties. These properties may be 
 considered collectively ; or they may be thought and spoken 
 of, though they cannr>t exist, separately. We can think of 
 no material substauce, which does not possess at least two
 
 GRAMMAR. 65 
 
 properties ; no visible object, for instance, can be without 
 colour and extension : but we can think of extension and of 
 colour separately, that is, we can direct the attention of the 
 mind to each of them, exclusively of the other properties M'ith 
 which it may be connected. This separate or exclusive atten- 
 tion of the mind, is called abstraction. It is a very simple, 
 though a very difficult operation of the mind. 
 
 The names of' substances are called Substantives ; the names 
 of properties without direct reference to the substances of 
 which they form a part, are called Abstract Nouns. To 
 every name comprehended under these two classes, the term 
 NOUN is applied. A noun is said to be increased or dimi- 
 nished in comprehension, when the number of ideas denoted 
 by it is increased or diminished ; and in extension, when the 
 number of objects, to which it can be applied, is increased o* 
 diminished. Those single words, which are added to nouns 
 to vary their comprehension, or to vary or determine their 
 extension, may be called adnouns. From these similar, 
 yet generally distinct objects of different adnouns, arise t\vo 
 grand classes. Adjectives and Restrictives : the former varying 
 the comprehension of the conjoined nouns ; the latter varying, 
 sometimes determining, the extension of them. In one mode 
 of the application of the term, adjectives are nouns ; for they 
 are the names of properties ; and originally they were nouns ; 
 but since they are not employed alone (like substantives and 
 abstract nouns) to denote the objects of thought or discourse, 
 it is preferable to class them with words whose use and em- 
 ployment is similar. 
 
 We constantly find it necessary to speak of ourselves, to 
 address others, or to speak of others. If we wish to speak 
 of ourselves, to address others, or to speak of others, we im- 
 mediately find, that we must either mention the names of the 
 individuals concerned, or use some words not belonging to 
 ourselves or them, as individuals, but, as the persons speak-c,, 
 ing, spoken to, or spoken of. This would be effected, by 
 using some short words of equivalent signification ; such are 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 66 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 /, thou, and he. I has the same force as the person speak' 
 ing; thou, as the person spoken to; and he, as the person 
 spoken of; except that / and thou are limited to the indivi- 
 duals actually speaking or addressed, or supposed to be so 
 speaking or addressed. These words are then, strictly speak- 
 ing, nouns ; but as tliey are used Jor names of persons, they 
 are called pronouns, that is, for-nouns. It is obvious, 
 that tlie word he, not only supplies the place of the name, on 
 which account it might be called a pronoun, but has a distinct 
 reference to the person having been before mentioned. In a 
 similar manner, she means the female person spoken of; and 
 it, the thing spoken of These words, with their plurals, 
 are all called pronouns ; and though they obviously either 
 come under other sorts of words, or are abbreviations for one 
 or more of them, yet they are at present so distinct and im- 
 portant in their use, that they require a separate class. Pro- 
 nouns, then, are words used for the names of persons or 
 things, connected with the idea, that they are either speaking, 
 spoken to, or before spoken of. 
 
 We cannot advance one step in language, without leading 
 our hearers or readers to the inference, tliat certain ideas are 
 connected in our minds ; or that we believe certain objects, 
 properties, or events to be connected. The connecting link 
 in language need not always be stated. In the infancy of 
 language it could not exist ; and in the language of childhood 
 it does not exist. Words are joined together, and it is easily 
 understood, ihat the corresponding ideas are connected in the 
 mind. * Mother, milk, good,' would surely be understood 
 by any one ; and, in similar cases, depending upon the ease 
 of inference, the ancient writers left it to the mind of the 
 reader to form it for himself. But how slowly and how am- 
 biguously communication would proceed, without some appro- 
 priated link of connexion, any one may be convinced, by 
 leaving out of n few sentences, those words, which, in our 
 language, serve that purpose, and which, in all languages, 
 aie necessary to render an affirmation complete. The intel-
 
 GRAMMAR. S^f 
 
 ligent reader, to whatever other account of such words he may 
 have been accustomed, will perceive that we refer to verbs. 
 The essential quality of a verb is, to express affirmation, 
 when joined with the subject of the affirmation. Whenever 
 a word expresses it, that word is a verb : if in any case it 
 does not express it, it ceases to be a verb. 
 
 From verbs (or rather from the noun-state of verbs, in 
 which they do not express affirmation) a new class of words 
 is formed, partaking of the characteristics of the noun and the 
 adjective, aud agreeing with verbs in the accidental circum- 
 stance of requiring after them a peculiar form of pronounSi 
 These words are called participles. 
 
 In the same manner as it is found needful, for the purpose 
 of accurate and expeditious communication, to employ word* 
 to modify or restrict the signification of nouns, it is found at 
 least convenient to appropriate other words to modify or 
 restrict the signification of adnouns and verbs. These are 
 called ADVERBS, which are to be regarded as a class of words 
 formed from nouns or adnouns, and ijsed to express some 
 quality or circumstance respecting the action, quality, or cir- 
 cumstance denoted by verbs or adnouns. They are, therefore, 
 convenient abbreviations, which may be supplied by the other 
 sorts of words. 
 
 1 . From nouns, adnouns, and verbs, another class of words- 
 have arisen, which, from the long disuse of the original form* 
 of them, have lost their peculiar characteristics, and are now 
 regarded as independent of them. They are now used to con- 
 nect words, or sentences, or words with sentences ; and, in 
 general, point out some particular kind of connexion. From 
 the employment of them, they may be termed connectives ; 
 and under this class, we comprehend those words which are 
 usually denominated Prepositions and Conjunctions. The dis- 
 tinction between these two sorts of connectives, is merely 
 technical ; the latter requiring after them a peculiar form of thef ' 
 pronoun, and also of the noun, in languages in which the 
 noun admits of flexion.
 
 6S BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 We feci obliged, very mudi against our inclination, io 
 admit, as an eighth class of words, some of those which are 
 il^ually denominated interjections. Words of this sort 
 are of very little importance, and by many are thought un- 
 deserving of the name of words. Some are involuntary ex- 
 pressions of grief, or joy, or surprise, or some other strong 
 emotion ; and some may be used with the intention of inform- 
 ing others what emotions are in the mind of the speaker or 
 writer. The former set have no nwre right to be called 
 words, than the sigh of sorrow, the groan of pain, the laugh 
 of mirth, &c., which no one calls words ; for words are volun- 
 tary vocal sounds, employed to express our ideas to others. 
 The latter set are generally found to be parts of sentences, or 
 single words of the before mentioned sorts. Our great phi- 
 losophical etymologist, Mr. Home Tooke, has traced the 
 origin of the greater part of them ; and the few that remain, 
 will probably be hereafter traced by some of those gram- 
 marians who are treading in his steps. 
 
 We now proceed to a few remarks on each of these sorts 
 of words. 
 
 ^ I. Of the Noun. Tliose words which are wawcs of things, 
 and which can stand alone, as the subjects of an affirmation, 
 are called Nouns. This class of words has two grand divi- 
 sions : substantives and abstract nouns. SubstaJitives are the 
 names of substances. All names must originally have been 
 names of individuals ; the extension of the application of them 
 must, however, have been immediate. The difficulty of pro- 
 ducing a great number of distinguishable articulate sounds, and 
 the* operation of the associative power, first led to the appli- 
 cation of the same word to different individuals ; convenience, 
 perhaps, we may justly say, necessity, led to the extension of it. 
 When a number of things resemble each other in some strik- 
 ing particulars, we class them together in one species; and 
 give to the species, a name which is applicable to every indivi- 
 dual included in it. When several species agree in some com-
 
 GRAMMAR. 69 
 
 ion properties, we refer them to a higher dass, which we 
 call a genus ; and to the genus, we give a name which is appli^ 
 cable to every species and every individual included in it. 
 This classification we extend to the limits of human know- 
 ledge ; and it is one of those admirable contrivances which are 
 the result of tiecessity, or of casual circumstances, but which, 
 being extended and perfected by science, contribute essentially 
 to the progress and diffusion of Knowledge.' But though it is 
 necessary, for the purposes of communication, that many 
 names should be applicable to classes of individuals, it is also 
 necessary that there should be others capable of denoting in- 
 dividuals, without the circuitous plan of naming the general 
 term, and the distinguishing qualities of the individual : and, 
 accordingly, we find in all languages, numerous words, which 
 apply to an individual only, or, at least, are at once referred^ 
 both by speaker and hearer, to an individual. Those names 
 which, when alone, apply to a number of individuals, are 
 called General Terms, Appellatives, or Common Nouns ; and 
 those which, when alone, are used to denote particular in- 
 dividuals, are called Proper Nouns. Sometimes proper nouns 
 are so applied, as to become common nouns, as when we say, 
 the Caesars, or the Ptolemies. These are instances of the com- 
 mencement of generalization ; but there is another mode of 
 the use of proper nouns, which is more illustrative of the pro- 
 cesses actually adopted, in employing terms originally denoting 
 an individual, to denote classes of individuals who resemble 
 him in some striking characteristics : thus, we say, " the 
 Bacons, the Newtons, and the Lockes, of the present day," 
 meaning, by these terms, all those individuals who resemble 
 3acon, Newton, or Locke, respectively, in the mode and 
 success of their investigation. 
 
 Of Abstract Nouns. Though it seems to be a very simple 
 process, to form and appropriate names to denote proper- 
 ties separate from the other properties with which we see them 
 connected in nature, the origin and appropriatioj) of such
 
 70 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 names must have been very gradual; and the contrivances 
 which, in the natural progress of language, have been adopted 
 to denote separate properties, are among the most curious 
 procedures of the art of mutual communication. Mr. H. 
 Tooke, who has indisputably conducted us further towards an 
 acquaintance with the causes of language than any other author 
 on grammar, considers abstract terms as (generally speaking) 
 " participles or adjectives used without any substantive to 
 which they can be joined." " Such words," he observes, 
 " compose the bulk of evejy language. In English, those 
 which are borrowed from the Latin, French, and Italian, are 
 easily recognised, because those languages are sufficiently fami- 
 liar to us, and not so familiar as our own : those from the 
 Greek are more striking ; because more unusual : but those 
 which are original in our own language have been almost 
 wholly overlooked, and are quite imsuspected." A large pro- 
 portion of the nouns which he thus traces, are certainly not to 
 be considered as abstract terms, according to \^ hat appears to 
 be the customary meaning of that appellation, (such as view, 
 . the past {:>articiple of voir, something seen ; tent, the past partici- 
 ple from /e/ir/o, something stretched :) and others, require more 
 explanation than he has given ; (for instance, providence, pru- 
 dence, innocence, and all the rest of the tribe of qualities in 
 ence and ance, which he represents as the neuter plurals of ihe 
 present participles of the Latin verbs videre, nocere, 8cc. with- 
 out shewing us why things foreseeing, or things not hurting, 
 have acquired the force of the above words :) but a conside- 
 rable number of his derivations are very satisfactory, and give 
 great insight into the procedures of language. A few may be 
 adduced as a specimen of his etymologies. Skill is the past 
 participle pf the Anglo-Saxon \erh skj//an, to divide, to make a 
 difference, to discern; and it signifies that faculty by which 
 things are properly divided, or separated one from another. 
 Sorrow is the past participle of syrwan, to vex, to cause mis- 
 chief to, and is the general name for any thing by which one 
 is vexed, grieved, or mischieved. Wrath is the past partici-
 
 GRAMMAR. 71 
 
 pie of writhan, to writhe. Heat is the past participle of hea- 
 tan, to make hot. Doom is the past participle of deman, to 
 judge, to decree. 
 
 Another class of abstract nouns, viz. those ending in th, 
 have been traced to a veiy probable origin by Home Tooke : 
 he considers them as the third persons singular of verbs. For 
 instance ; truth (anciently written troweth, trowth, truth, and 
 troth,) means, what one troweth, i. e. thinketh, or firmly be- 
 lieveth : warmth means that which warmeth : strength is that 
 which stringeth, or maketh one strong. While, however, we 
 agree so far with Mr. Tooke, we cannot go with him, when he 
 limits our acceptation of words to that in which they were 
 first employed; and supposes that all the complicated, yet 
 often definable associations, which the gradual progress of 
 language and intellect has connected with words, are to be re- 
 duced to the standard of our forefathers. We cannot avoid 
 expressing our belief, that he has either totally overlooked, or 
 greatly neglected, the influence of the principle of association^ 
 both in the formation of ideas, and in the connecting of them 
 with words. It does not follow, that because the ideas con- 
 nected with abstract terms are not what Mr. Locke supposed, 
 that there are no ideas connected with them, but that they are 
 merely contrivances of language. Several classes of abstract 
 nouns are altogether passed over by Mr. Tooke ; and we 
 regret it, because he was eminently qualified to trace the origin 
 of those terminations, by which are formed the names of 
 qualities, considered as separate from the substances in wrhich 
 they exist. One class is formed by the addition of ness to the 
 adjective, such as whiteness, goodness, &c. ISIess is the Anglo- 
 Saxon naes, or nese, signifying tiose. It is also used for prO' 
 montory; as in Sheer-ness, Orford-ness, the Naze, &c. 
 Joined to the name of a quality, it denotes that the quality is 
 a distinguishing feature of an object; it consequently holds it 
 up as an object of separate attention. 
 
 Of Number. We now proceed to those changes which are
 
 7i BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 made in the form of uouns, to express a change of significa- 
 tion ; and tirst, we shall attend to NumOer. In speaking of 
 the objects of thought, we have constant occasion to speak of 
 one or more of a kind; in every language therefore ine may 
 expect to find a variation in the form or adjuncts of nouns, to 
 denote unity or plnrahty. To avoid the necessity of using such 
 adjunct<, or rather, in consequence of the coalescence of them 
 with the nouns, owing to the frequent use of them in connexion 
 with the nouns, a change of form has taken place in most cul- 
 tivated languages. The Hebrew plurals are generally formed 
 by the addition of D, mem, to the noun, probably because D 
 was the symbol of water, and denoted collection and plurality ; 
 and in that language the coalescence has actually taken place, 
 and occasionally undergone some corruption. Among the 
 Chinese, the plural adjunct has not yet coalesced with the noun ; 
 and they generally denote the plural by the addition of min to 
 the singular. Supposing the coalescence of plural adjuncts to 
 have been the origin of the changes on nouns to denote plura- 
 lity of meaning, it does not necessarily follow that all plural 
 changes were thus formed. The change of form produced by 
 such coalescence in some cases, might suggest a corresponding 
 change in others, though the change might not be exactly simi- 
 lar. Henpe, could we trace some of the plural changes to 
 art, as their earliest origin, it would weigh little against the ge- 
 neral principle. We shall, however, almost universally find, 
 that the extension of old procedures, rather than the invention 
 of new ones, has been the cause of almost all even of the arti- 
 ficial changes in language. The reason is obvious : besides 
 the greater ease to the innovator, it would be much more in- 
 telligible to those who are to adopt his innovation. Even the 
 philosopher judges it more proper to follow the analogies of 
 his language, than to deviate from them where he knows such 
 deviatien would be an improvement. 
 
 Except as far as is dictated by custom, and that conveni- 
 ence on which the custom has been founded, there is no rea- 
 son why the same word, unchanged, should not be applicable
 
 . ' GRAMMAR. 73 
 
 both where one and where more re meant : why, for instance, 
 we should not say two man, as well as one man. The plural 
 form may be applied to two, or two hundred, or any indefinite 
 number; now is there, in the nature of the thing, a more 
 marked distinction between one and two, than between two 
 and two hundred ? In fact, were we always able to join to 
 the noun a numeral, or some other adnoun denoting number, 
 a plural form would be unnecessary ; but it is frequently desir- 
 able to denote plurality where the number is indeterminate, or 
 unnecessary to be specified. The Chinese drop their plural 
 adjunct, when there is another word of plurality attached to 
 the. noun. We do not go upon the same principle ; but there 
 are cases in which we make no changes to denote plurality, 
 as twenty pound of flour, thirty sail of ships, four thousand, 
 &c. These instances, though contrary lo the prevailing ana- 
 logy of our language, certainly do not oppose the general 
 principles of language ; and though the neglect of the plural 
 termination in such cases is ungrammatical, it probably savours 
 less of vulgarity to go thus far with the multitude, than of pe- 
 dantry to quit the beaten track. There are other instances, 
 however, in which the use of the same word both in a singular 
 and plural acceptation is perfectly legitimate ; we s^y one, or 
 twenty, deer, or sheep. 
 
 If there must be a form for unity as distinguished from plu- 
 rality, why not forms to denote two things, three things, &c.? 
 There is no reason but in their inferior utility. Some lan- 
 guages have a form for duality ; and by the Greeks this form 
 was carried through their nouns, adnouns, pronouns, verbs, 
 and participles. They had, however, no scrqple in using the 
 plural form for two things, and in making their duals agree 
 with plurals. The fact is, the distinction between one and 
 more than one, is more useful than any farther distinction. 
 
 Of Case. In every department of knowledge, we are con- 
 cerned with individuals ; and though, for the purposes of com- 
 munication, general terms are not only convenient, but abso-
 
 74 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 lutely necessary, some contaiviinces are requisite to designate 
 individuals, or less general clasises of individuals. This is done 
 either by means of adnouns, or by stating some connexion be- 
 tween what is denoted by the noun and some other substance 
 or quality. The latter is accomplished by juxta-position, by 
 prepositions, or by e(|uivalent changes in the word connected. 
 The last is called luHexion, and the word so changed is called 
 a case of the noun. In Enghsh we have only one inflexion of 
 the noun, and two of the pronoun. Persons who think that 
 the processes of eveiy language must be accommodated to 
 the grammar of the Greek and Latin, strenuously contend for 
 an equal number of cases with theirs. If case mean a change 
 in the zford, to denote connexion with other wordi, then the 
 plan of our language cannot be accommodated to that of the 
 L<atin ? if of a man, to a man, &c., be considered as cases, there 
 is certainly no reason why the same appellation should not be 
 given to every noun to which a preposition is prefixed, and ihea 
 we shall have above thirty cases. It is fortunate for the spe- 
 culator, that, inthis and other instances, language will not bend 
 to the contrivances of the technical grammarian : for his wish 
 to reduce every process to an agreement with a standard which 
 prejudice only can deem perfect, would, if successful, materi- 
 ally increase the difficulties of grammatical investigation. 
 
 The variation of our nouns is confined to mark one relation, 
 that of property or possession ; and it is therefore with great 
 propriety called the possessive case. The appellation genitive 
 case is sometimes applied to it ; but the force of the Greek 
 and Latin genitive is to denote relation in general, though ca- 
 pable of specific application, and is exactly equivalent to a 
 noun preceded by of. The possessive case of a noun is not 
 equivalent to the noun preceded by of, except where the lat- 
 ter has the specific force of belonging to. It may in all cases 
 be represented by of, with the noun following ; but the latter 
 mode of expression cannot io many instances be represented 
 by the possessive case. 
 
 The French, Spanish, and Italian languages have no cases
 
 GRAMMAR. 75 
 
 of nouns : the German has changes to express what we de- 
 note by of and to ; but these changes are not carried through 
 all the nouns. The Latin and Greek languages have still more 
 variations, which they carry through all their variable parts of 
 speech, except the verbs. The arrangement of these varia- 
 tions is the work of art : and the appellations of case, {or Jail- 
 ing,) and declension, (or bending from,) appear to have gone 
 upon the following principle : the word from which the cases 
 are formed, was represented by a perpendicular line, and the 
 cases by lines dechning or falling from it. For the sake of 
 convenience, the nominative and vocative are denominated 
 cases ; and from the above contrivance, the nominative was 
 termed the upright case, and the other cases were termed ob- 
 lique. The nominative is the name itself. The vocative, or 
 case of calling, has its origin in those changes in the pronunci- 
 ation which arise from the mode of utterance in calling to a 
 person : it is a corruption, or an abbreviation of the nomina- 
 tive. We have already spoken of the force of the genitive ; 
 we shall only add here, that we have in English one procedure 
 exactly corresponding to it in force, though not so universally 
 applied, viz. juxtaposition. This is a very simple and intelli- 
 gible process. To connect the terms is a satisfactory ex- 
 pression of the connexion of the things signified : and in this 
 procedure, as in the genitive, the kind of connexion is left to 
 be inferred ; as in the expressions iron chain, China orange, 
 house door, &c. The theoretical distinction between the da- 
 tive and accusative does not appear to be clearly marked ; but 
 the general force of the former is to denote acquisition, and 
 of the latter to designate the word as the object of the action 
 of verbs and their derivatives. As to the ablative, there is 
 scarcely room for doubt that it is merely a variation of the da- 
 tive form, where indeed it has a form distinct from it. Pro- 
 bably in consequence of the ellipsis of a preposition, this form 
 has by degrees come to denote the cause, manner, or instru- 
 ment of an action ; and this is now the primary force of the 
 casQ when unattended by preposiUons. 'f
 
 76 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 The changes which are made to denote connexion, have 
 been foni.< d by prefixing or affixing letters to the words them- 
 selves; and t'ley might have been arbitrary, or gradually pro- 
 duced by the coalescence of words or abbreviations of words. 
 The latter hypothesis is in every respect so very probable, that 
 nothing seems requisite to prove it to have been the general 
 procedure of. language ; but to shew that it has actually oc- 
 curred in some instances. It has been for some time the pre- 
 vailing opinion among philosophical philologists, and it has ac- 
 quired great support from the discoveries of Tooke. He 
 states it without any limit in the following manner : *' All 
 those common terminations, in any language, of which all 
 nouns or verbs in that language equally partake (under the no- 
 tion of declension or conjugation) are themselves separate 
 words, with distinct meanings ; which are therefore added to 
 the different nouns of verba, because those additional mean- 
 ings are intended to be added occasionally to all those nouns 
 or verbs. These terminations are all explicable, and ought to 
 be explained." In fact, the progress of the coalescence has 
 been delected in some of the most refined instances of it ; and 
 in many cases to which system has not reached, the coales- 
 cence is universally allowed. In tlie two principal cases of 
 the Greek noun, in some at least of its forms of inflexion, tlie 
 origin of the change has been traced ; and all the cases of the 
 Hebrew nuun, are obviously formed by prefixing (instead of 
 affixing, as in the Greek,) significant words. The grammarian 
 doe? not indeed allow that the changes of the Hebrew noun 
 are cases ; but such arbitrary distinctions serve only to render 
 obscurity more obscure. In the French, au and du are indis- 
 putably abbreviations of d le and de ie : we can trace their cor- 
 ruption, and we are not obliged to suppose greater corrup- 
 tions in more disputable instances. What is the origin of the 
 possessive termination of our nouns b very uncertain. 
 
 Of Gender. Gender is distinction of substantives, as denot- 
 ing males, or females, or neither. The names of males arc
 
 GRAMMAR. - 77 
 
 Said to be of the masculine gender ; the names of females of 
 the feminine gender ; and all other names are said to be of 
 the neuter, that is, of neither gender. The purposes even of 
 accurate communication, do not, in all cases, require any de- 
 notement of gender, and* accordingly we find many words 
 which are common to both sexes. The English and the pure 
 Persian, appear to be the only languages which observe the 
 natural distinction in the division of nouns. We denote differ- 
 ence of sex, either by a change of appellation, or by a change 
 in the word itself, or by a significant adjunct ; as, horse, mare ; 
 lion, lioness; he-goat, she-goat. In addition to its greater 
 philosophical accuracy, the procedure of our language enables 
 us to mark with greater perspicuity and force the personifica- 
 tion of inanimate substances or abstract qualities. 
 
 In the earliest languages, there is no distinction of gender, 
 further than into masculine and feminine, and the reason is ob- 
 vious ; for the principle of animation appears to the unculti- 
 vated mind to pervade all nature. In the more cultivated 
 languages in which a third class is admitted, the arrangement 
 seems to have been the work of art. The foundation was laid 
 in the natural distinction of sex : by degrees those termina- 
 tions which most frequently occurred in the respective divi- 
 sions, were made the characteristics of those divisions ; and 
 nouns of similar terminations, were arranged uoder them, with- 
 out respect to the original ground of distinction. We must 
 not be surprised to find, that languages derived from those, in 
 which the distinctions of nature had given way to the divisions 
 of art, should leave nature altogether ; and we accordingly find, 
 that in those modern European languages which are derived 
 from the Latin, gender is little more than a mere grammatical 
 distinction of nouns into two classes, called masculine and fe- 
 minine. 
 
 II. Of the adnoun. We apply the term Adnoun to 
 those single words which are added to nouns to vary their 
 GomprehensioD; or to vary or determine their extension. Those
 
 78 - BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 which effect the former object are called adjecthes; those 
 which effect the latter, we call restrictives. It is not, perhaps, 
 in all cases, easy to say to which of these classes an adnoun 
 should be referred, because the two objects are not always dis- 
 tinguishable, but, in general, those which denote qualities are 
 adjectives, and those which denote situation, possession, or 
 number, are restrictives. 
 
 Of Adjectives. Tl.e adjective is exactly equivalent to a 
 noun connected with another noun by means of juxtaposition, 
 or of a preposition, or of corresponding flexion ; E. g, A gol- 
 den cup, is the same with a gold cup, or a cup of gold; ^ pru- 
 dent man is the same as a man of prudence, or wr prudenticc. 
 It has been already observed, that the Greek and Latin geni- 
 tive, our preposition of, and juxtaposition, are all equivalent 
 procedures, though custom has produced a variety in the mode 
 of their application : we now add, that the adjective is another 
 equivalent ; and further, that the connexion denoted by the ad- 
 jective is equally indefinite with the others : E. g. A healthy 
 colour is a colour caused by health ; a healthy exercise is ex- 
 ercise causing healtli. And the use of all these procedures is 
 the same, to particularize the general term, by connecting with 
 the qualities which are included under it, some quality which 
 the general term does not include. In many instances, to de- 
 note that the name of a quality is used thus in connexion with 
 some other name, (that is, in fact, that it is used as an adjec- 
 tive,) certain terminations are employed which are significant 
 of such connexion ; and Home Tooke informs us, that those 
 by which the simple adjectives are formed, vit. en, ed, and igf 
 (our modem y,) convey, all three, the designation that the 
 names to which they are annexed are to be joined to some 
 other names ; and this by their own intrinsic meaning, for they 
 signify give, add, join. ** So the adjectives wooden, and 
 woollen," he continues, " convey precisely the same ideas, are 
 the names of the same things, denote the same substances, as 
 the substantives zpood and wool ; aod the termination en only
 
 GRAMMAR. ^ 79 
 
 puts them in a condition to be joined to some other substan- 
 ces, or rather gives us notice to expect some other substances 
 to which they are to be joined." 
 
 Most languages which admit of inflexion, carry it through 
 their adjectives as well as nouns. In some, the adjective is 
 varied to express difference in the gender, number, and case, of 
 the connected noun. Where great liberty of inversion is de- 
 sirable, these variations are convenient ; because they point out 
 with what noun the adjective is connected : where juxtaposi- 
 tion ascertains this, they are unnecessary ; since they make no 
 change in the signification of the adjective. ITie significa- 
 tion of the adjective wise, is unchanged, whether it be ap- 
 plied to one man or woman, or to twenty men or women ; 
 whether its substantive be stated singly, or conjoined with 
 others, as the names of the parents, place of abode, &c., of 
 those to whom it is applied. The French always place the 
 adjective close to its noun ; yet they make changes on it to de- 
 note the gender of the connected noun. This is always unne- 
 cessary ; but sometimes it contributes to elegance, by prevent- 
 ing an awkward circumlocution. 
 
 Of Comparison. ^The qualities denoted by adjectives, may, 
 in general, vary in degree : some, as dimensions and weight, 
 may be measured with accuracy ; and the comparative degree 
 of some other qualities, at least of heat and cold, can be ascer- 
 tained with precision. Many, however, are incapable of ex- 
 act measurement ; and the ca,>js in which the exact degree of 
 the quality cannot be ascertained, are few in comparison with 
 those in which it is unnecessary. When we use terms to ex- 
 press a greater or less degree of a quality, we may either make 
 a direct and particular reference to the degree in which it is 
 possessed by other objects, or use them without such refe- 
 rence. In the former case, we are said to compare the quali- 
 ties and variations of the adjective, to express this comparison, 
 are called degrees of comparison. The difference between 
 the comparative and superlative in our language consists in the
 
 80 ^ BEIXES LETTRES. 
 
 manner of construction merely, and not in the degree of the 
 quality: thus, Solomon \\ as wiser than any other king of Israel, 
 is the same as, ' Solomon was the wisest of the kings of 
 Israel.' 7'he comparative is used, when we speak of an 
 object as distinct fiom those with which we compare it; 
 the superlative, when it is spoken of as one of those with 
 which we compare it : e. g. Man is the noblest of ani- 
 mals, but not the noblest of the brute creation, other- 
 wise he must be one of the brute creation ; man is nobler 
 than the brutes, but not than all animals, or he must be 
 nobler than himself. The custom of our language makes 
 one distinction between the comparative and superlative, 
 which does not coincide with this grand distinction. We use 
 the comparative with the force of the superlative, when we 
 speak of two ; as, he is the reiser of the two, and the wisest 
 of any greater number. This is not an unjustifiable usage ; 
 but it has no particular foundation in the respective force of 
 the comparative and superlative. Such nice distinctions, where 
 well-founded, give langua8;e greater precision ; in the present 
 case, the dislinclion would not deserve much attention, were 
 it not sanctioned by the usage of the most correct writers. 
 Few of the modem European languages vary the words 
 themselves to express comparison. The French, e. g. express 
 by p/us and /e plus, what we express by more and most, or 
 (what is obviously equivalent, though custom limits their use to 
 particular cases,) by the terminations er and est. What is the 
 meanmg of these terminations r is a natural question : the 
 answer is not so easy. It appears, however, very probable, 
 that er is nothing more or less than the word which we still 
 use in the form ere, signifying be/ore ; and, that wiser signifies 
 wise before. Now, as has been well remarked by Mr. Dal- 
 ton, then and (Jian are the same in origin and signification : 
 hence, wiser than I, is exactly represented by, wise before, 
 than I, t. e. wise before, then (that is, next in order) /. Tliis 
 derivation, if correct, explains the ground of the peculiarity 
 above-stated, in the use of the comparative : he is tlie wiser
 
 GRAMMAR. 8l" 
 
 of the two, means simply, he is wise before (the other) of 
 the two. It might be conjectured, that the superlative ter- 
 mination est, is an abbreviation of most, annexed to an adjec- 
 tive, in the same manner as in topmost, undermost, &c. ; but 
 Home Tooke has shewn, that more is merely mo-er, and 
 most, mo-est, which leaves the origin of the terminations er 
 and est as it was found. 
 
 Of Restnctives, ^Those adnouns which, without expressing 
 qualities, vary or determine the extent of the signification of 
 the nouns to which they belong, we call Restrictives. Some 
 restrictives are, by the custom of our language, applicable to 
 singular nouns only ; as one, a or an, another, this, that, 
 each, every, &c. ; others to plural nouns only ; as two, three, 
 these, those, other, ftw, all, &c. ; but most restrictives, like 
 all adjectives, are applicable to both singular and plural 
 nouns. 
 
 Of the restrictives, two are called Articles, the and an, 
 which last is abbreviated into a before consonants, h when 
 pronounced (unless the second syllable of the word be accent- 
 ed) before one, and u long as in use. An is simply another 
 form of the numeral one, still used in North Britain under 
 the form ane; and in the French, the numeral and the article 
 corresponding to one, are the same. But though aji and one 
 have the same origin and primary signification, there is occa- 
 sionally an obvious difference in the mode of their employ- 
 ment. This difference is well expressed by Dr. Cronibie, 
 " If, instead of saying * A horse, a horse, a kingdom for a 
 horse,' I should say, * One horse, one horse, one kingdom 
 for one horse,' the sentiment, I conceive, would not be 
 strictly the same. In both expressions, the species is named, 
 and in both, one of that species is demanded ; but with this 
 difference, that in the former, the name of the species is the 
 emphatic word, and it opposes that species to every other; in 
 the latter, unity of object seems the leading idea." An is 
 called the indefinite article, because it leaves undetermined 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 si BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 what one individual is meant ; the determines the application 
 of the noun to some particular individual, and hence it is 
 termed, the definite article. It has the same primary signifi- 
 cation with that ; but they vary in the mode of their employ- 
 ment, tlie former never being employed without a noun, the 
 latter having its noun frequently understood ; and farther, that 
 is more emphatic than the: these, however, are the refine- 
 ments of language, and have no foundation in the origin of 
 words. Home Tooke considers that as the past participle, 
 and the as the imperative mood, of the verb thean, to get, io 
 take, to assume : and the, he observes, may very well supply 
 the place of the corresponding Anglo-Saxon article se, which 
 is the imperative of seon to see ; for it answers the same pur- 
 pose in discourse to say, see man, or take man. We really 
 like the import of our forefathers* article so much better than 
 that of our own, that we shall cheerfully give up the for se, 
 unless it sliould appear, that the and that have their origin ia 
 some verb signifying to point at. 
 
 Of that large class of restrictives called numerals, the origin 
 of some may be traced ; and as we wish to give our readers 
 an insight into the labours of Mr. H. Tooke, we shall mention 
 his derivation of words in this class. It is in the highest de- 
 gree probable, that all numeration was originally performed 
 by the fingers, the actual resort of the ignorant ; for the num- 
 ber of the fingers is still the utmost extent of numeration.* 
 The hands doubled, closed, or shut in, may therefore well be 
 denominated ten (Uie past participle of tynan, to enclose, to 
 shut in), for therein you have closed all numeration ; and if 
 you want more, you nmst begin again, ten and one, ten and 
 two, &c., twain-tens, twenty, when you must begin again as 
 before. Score is the past participle of the verb to shear, to 
 separate ; and means separated parcels or talleys. Tlie ordi- 
 nal numbers, as they are called, are formed like the abstract 
 
 * The Kaoucbatkans, however, take in the toes; and go as fiir as twen* 
 ij; but this is the limit of their numeration. The Mexicans reckoned by 
 twanties; probably from the same cause.
 
 GRAMMAR. 83 
 
 iK>uns in eth ; fifth, sixth, tenth, &c. is the unit which fiv' 
 eth, six-eth, ten-eth, i. e. makes up the number five, six, 
 ten, &c. 
 
 III. Of the Pronoun. So much has already been 
 said respecting the force of the Pronoun, that it is unneces- 
 sary 'to enlarge upon it here. Home Tooke's derivation of it 
 must however be stated, as it shews what have been the actual 
 procedures of language in the formation of one of our pro- 
 nouns, and gives an insight into the probable origin of the 
 rest. It, formerly written hit and het, is the past participle 
 of the Gothic verb haitan, to name, and, therefore, means the 
 person or persons, thing or things named, or afore-said: and 
 accordingly was applied by all our old writers indifferently to 
 singular and plural nouns. We do not know whether a similar 
 opinion, as the origin of pronouns, had been previously laid 
 before the public, but the philosophical Greek professor of 
 Glasgow, (who, in his very interesting and important investi- 
 gations, has often anticipated Mr. Tooke,) *long ago delivered 
 it as his opinion, that some, at least, of the pronouns are 
 participles ; and if we mistake not, traced the origin of lyw, 
 and ipse, as follows. Eyw, in the more ancient dialect of 
 Greece, was ly^v, which is an obvious abbreviation or cor- 
 ruption of >.tyu> ; so that syu (whence the Latin and other 
 languages have their first person,) signifies the speaking per- 
 son. Ipse is the Latin past participle from mu; and though 
 this verb is not to be found in Latin writers, those who know 
 how much the Latin is a dialect of the Greek, will not feel 
 this a material difficulty : on this derivation, ipse signifies the 
 said person, &c. These speculations might be advanta- 
 geously extended, would our limits permit ; but sufficient has 
 been said to show, that these words are not of that unintelli- 
 gible nature which has been usually supposed. 
 
 Respecting the inflexion of pronouns, the same general 
 principles are applicable, as respecting that of nouns. His 
 is obviously he's ; and whatever be the origin of the possessive 
 
 G 2
 
 84 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 terminatitfn of the noun, it has the same origin here. Mine, 
 thine, and /lern and theirn still retained in some of our dia-. 
 lects, have apparently the same origin as wooden, woollen^ 
 &c. The objective form is merely a grammatical appropria- 
 tion of one of the forms of the pronouns, to a particular pur- 
 pose; and we still find that her, among the vulgar, is com- 
 monly employed as the subject of verbs, instead of she. 
 
 Of the Relatives. ^Tliough we see no reason to give the 
 appellation of Pronoun to those words which are called Ad- 
 jective Pronouns, (and accordingly we class them as restrio 
 tives), yet there is "one word of peculiar importance, which 
 seems properly a pronoun, and to wliich some attention is 
 necessary, viz. the Relative. We have already observed se- 
 veral of the contrivances of language to particularize general 
 terms ; another is, to restrict or explain the general term, by 
 means of a dependent sentence connected with it by a relative. 
 We will first consider what the relative performs, and then 
 how it performs it. Take tlie following examples : every 
 man, who loves truth, abhors falsehood ; and John, who loves 
 truth, hates falsehood. If the relative clause had been omit- 
 ted in the former sentence, the remaining assertion would have 
 been false; here then it is restrictive; in the second it is mere- 
 ly explanatory ; and in such cases, so far from being necessary, 
 may even destroy the unity and force of the sentence. To 
 explain the subject of discourse, and to restrict its signification, 
 are the two offices of the relative. If the custom of language 
 allowed it, precisely the same purpose might be answered by 
 an adjective or participle connected with tlie term, as, every 
 man loving truth, Sec. aud it might seem useless to introduce 
 a new procedure ; but the utility of the present plan is obvi- 
 ous, when we consider the immense number of new words 
 which must be introduced to supply the place of the relative, 
 and further, that it enables us to state a greater variety of cir- 
 cumstances in connexion with the autecedeut^ and occasionally 
 to state them more forcibly.
 
 GRAMMAR. 85 
 
 Tlie relative is equivalent to a personal pronoun with a con- 
 nective of general signification. We do not mean lo affirm 
 that, in the original signification, that connective will be found ; 
 but that such is the present force. The dependent clause may 
 be joined to the principal, either by simple juxtaposition, or 
 by means of a cojinecting particle, or lastly by a word includ- 
 ing the force of a connective particle. Instances of die first, 
 are. The ship he commanded was wrecked ; and, The man 
 that (i. e. that man) loves wisdom, shall find her : in both of 
 which, the dependent clause is connected m that natural man- 
 ner which is frequently adopted in our simple language, to ex- 
 press connexion in ideas ; and in the same manner, the early 
 Greek writers employ their definite article for their relative. 
 As an instance of the second icind, we may adduce this mode 
 of expression : A man if he do not love truth cannot be virtu- 
 ous : in which, the dependent clause is joined by a connective, 
 though of a 4ess general kind than what is implied in the rela- 
 tive. This last mode is the most general, and on the whole 
 the most useful, because most general and least ambiguous. 
 Without venturing to assert that who essentially differs in its 
 original signification from that, it certainly does now include 
 more signification ; and that additional signification we think 
 to be what is expressed by and: so that, Every man who 
 loves truth, hates falsehood, means. Every man and he loves 
 4ruth, hates falsehood, i e. as Mr. H. Tooke has shewn us, 
 Every man add (this circumstance) he loves truth, &c.
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 GRAMMAR, Continued. 
 
 Tbe Verb Participle Adverb Connective Directions for the Stady 
 of Grammar. 
 
 IV. Of the Verb. As we do not profess to consider 
 the theory of grammar in general, we have not much occasion 
 to enlarge respecting this important sort of words ; for our 
 language, simple in most of its procedures, is here almost at 
 the verge of simplicity. Some languages have a great variety 
 of changes in the form of the verb to denote the subject of 
 affirmation, and the mode and time in which the affirmation 
 is to be taken : we have only four, and of those, three are, to 
 say the least, in no way necessary. We have already said 
 enough respecting the nature of the verb, to render it unne- 
 cessary to recur again to that point, and we shall here direct 
 the attention of our readers to the modes of signification as- 
 sumed by the English verb : only repeating, that the Ferb is 
 a word which, when preceded by a noun or pronoun, or by 
 what may be represented by it, expresses affirmation. In 
 English, and in other languages, words appropriated to express 
 affirmation are often used without any such force : in such 
 cases it might, in some respects, be more scientific to cease 
 to give them the appellation of verbs ; but it would be incon- 
 venient in practice, and we prefer speaking of them as in the
 
 GRAMMAR. 87 
 
 noun-State of the verb; so in the expressions, * Eat thi/ and 
 ' He dares not eat it/ eat is in the noun-state. 
 
 To denote that a name was appropriated to be used as a 
 verb, our ancestors added a distinguishing termination, Hke all 
 other common terminations, almost certainly significant in its 
 original state. Why that was dropped does not appear : but 
 the verb, in many instances, now ceases io have any thing 
 in its form to distinguish it from the noun, and in a great 
 variety of instances, it is used exactly as a noun. It is true, it 
 is generally, when in the noun-state, preceded by the particle 
 to ; but, in most instances, to is used in its most customary 
 sense ; and in the few instances in which it seems to have 
 merely the force of the Anglo-Saxon termination, it has a 
 sense equally accordant with the original force of the word. 
 Home Tooke has shewnthat to (as well as rfo, which is cer- 
 tainly the same word), is a particle of a Gothic substantive 
 signifying acty effect, and, we presume, object ; now^ when we 
 say, * I am going to walk,' to shows that walk (which is still 
 ^he name of an action) is the object of my going : but when 
 we say, ' To walk is healthful,* to designates the word fol- 
 lowing as the name of an action, and the expression means, 
 the act (viz.) walk is healthful. We must, however, admit^ 
 that the use of to before the noun-state of verbs, does not 
 seem to be, in every case, consistent with its meaning ; but 
 such cases may fairly be referred to the general tendency there 
 is to lose sight of the original force of words, in the stress 
 laid on them in particular cases, or in the mode of their em- 
 ployment in particular cases ; and hence, by degrees, to extend 
 the employment of them to similar cases, without reference to 
 their primary signification. 
 
 The hifinitive mood, as it is commonly called, is the verb, 
 jdivested of its peculiar force, viz. of affirmation, and uncom- 
 pounded with those words which render it expressive of per- 
 son, number, &c. and, in the modern languages, of time ; 
 but it seems erroneous to consider this as the fundamental 
 form of the verb, where it has any distinguishing termination :
 
 88 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 it is then the noun-state of the word w ith a termination added 
 to it, to show that it is to be employed as a verb. Thus, in 
 the Anglo-Saxon ^ean, '60 is the fundamental form of the 
 verb, and an is the verbaUzing adjunct. Now, as the impcr 
 fativc form of the verb, js nothing more or less than the 
 siipple verbal name, unattended with the inference of affirma- 
 tion, tliis may be considered as the fundamental form ; and in 
 the Latin, in paiticular, the variations of flexion are traced 
 M'itli ^le greatest advantage from this source. But without 
 lenlarging on this point, with which our language in the pre- 
 sent state of it, has no concern, we must repeat, that the im- 
 perative form of the verb is merely the noun-state, or verbal 
 name ; and that command, entreaty, ^c. supposed to be con- 
 veyed by it, are rperely the inference of custom. If I say to 
 a servant, Bread, it is understood that I wish him to bring 
 jne bread, but it is not said : if I say. Bring some bread, in 
 Jike manner it is understood, that I wish him to bring me 
 bread, but all that is expressed, is the name of the action, 
 and the object of the action. It has, indeed, been supposed, 
 that an affirmation is understoo(J, as, I desire you to bring 
 some bread ; but this supposition is rather with a view to 
 show, that bring, &,c., in such situations, arp verbs, than to 
 show the actual procedure. The fact is, full as muph is done 
 by inference, as by actual expression, in every branch of lan- 
 guage, and even as it is, thought i? too quick for words. Ad- 
 initting the justness of this account of the imperative mood, 
 we need not be surprised at the plan adopted by the Greek 
 writers, of using the infinitive instead of it; nor need we 
 resort to an ellipsis, in order to show the ground of this use, 
 or to complete the grammatical construction. 
 
 "^hcn the verbal energy is referretj to past tipc, a change is 
 made in the form of nearly all our English verbs : the greater 
 proportion of them add ed to the noun state. Whether this 
 alteration was originally intended to refer the meaning of the 
 verb to past time, or that the change had a different object, 
 and the reference has been gradually formed, in consequence
 
 GRAMMAR. 89 
 
 of an appropriation similar to what we spoke of respecting the 
 objective form of pronouns, we have yet to learn ; but there 
 seems little room to doubt, but that all the common changes 
 which have taken place in the verbs of all languages, whether 
 to denote time, person, number, or mode of signification, 
 have been formed in consequence of the coalescence of words 
 of appropriate signification ; and though the gradual refine- 
 ments of language may have greatly varied the associations of 
 words from what they originally possessed, yet that these chan- 
 ges were originally found sufficient to answer their respective 
 purposes. In some cases the contrivances adopted, can be 
 traced even yet ; and from the new turn which has lately been 
 given to etymological investigation, we may expect other dis- 
 coveries respecting the causes or origin of particular flexions. 
 The future of the French verb, is nothing more than the in- 
 finitive of the verb, with the present tense of avoir following 
 it ; thus, hlamer-ai is ai blamer, and je blamerai means I 
 have to blame, which mode of expression is in our own lan- 
 guage used with a future force. The leading distuiction 
 between the past and future tense of the Hebrew verb is, that 
 in the former, the verb is placed before the fragment of the 
 pronoun forming the person, and in the latter after it, as one 
 would suppose, to indicate that the verbal denotement is in 
 one case past, in the other case future. 
 
 Similar observations may be made, respecting the persons of 
 
 veibs. In the Hebrew, they are formed, as one would expect, 
 
 by the coalescence of syllables, which are still acknowledged 
 
 as pronouns : the same plan has doubtless been adopted in the 
 
 . Latin and Greek verbs, and in some few cases it can be traced 
 
 with much probability. In our own language there are 
 
 additions made to the verb, in both the past and present form, 
 
 when thou is the subject of affirmation, and in the present, 
 
 when any singular word, excepting J and thou is the subject. 
 
 ;.We are not aware of any advantage derived from these changes, 
 
 . (and the same remark may be applied to the French verb ;) 
 
 ^or they do not supersede the necessity of expressing the sub-
 
 90 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 ject of affirmation, as in the case of the Latin aud Greek 
 verbs ; but probably in their original import they contained in 
 them the subject of affirmation, unless indeed they were dif- 
 ferent dialects of the verb, which by degrees were appropriated 
 to particular subjects. 
 
 The variations in the Greek and Latin verbs, which denote 
 time and manner of signification, are supplied in English by 
 other verbs, which, from their employment, are called auxiliary j 
 or helping verbs : these are, be, do, have, shall, will, may, 
 and can, which admit of the variations of other verbs, and 
 must and let, which are unvaried. Do in its present use 
 is merely emphatic ; and assists in producing a discrimination 
 which cannot be denoted in other languages; but from its 
 general resemblance to the other auxiliaries we have mentioned 
 it among them. It is obviously the same word, both in ap- 
 pearance and in force, with the word do, when not employed 
 as an auxiliary. Shall signifies owe, and was formerly used as 
 a simple verb. Will, we use at present as a simple verb. 
 These two words are employed as the principal denotements 
 of future time ; and though their original signification has in 
 some degree yielded to that with which custom has invested 
 them> the former is usually to be traced. May signifies to 
 be able. Can signifies to kiiow, to ken, and thence to be 
 able. These words are all employed as auxiliaries, in their 
 past as well as present tenses. Must signifies to be obliged. 
 Let is the noun-state imperative of to let, signifying to permit. 
 Have, as an auxiliary, has the same force with the simple verb ; 
 it means to possess. How this meaning is preserved in the 
 implex expression / have loved, or similar cases, we shall 
 eee in what will be said respecting the participle. 
 
 We have an abbreviated mode of expression in English, 
 ivhich has given some trouble to the grammarian, but is now 
 pretty well understood, the subjunctive mode, or future con-* 
 iingent form. This arises from the omission of the future 
 auxiliary, shall or will, after words which render the affirma- 
 tion contingent : thus, instead of saying, Jf thou shalt or
 
 GRAMMAR. 91 
 
 shouldst love, we may say, If thou love. In all other cases in 
 which affirmation is made, we say the verb is in the indicative 
 mood. On this mood we have only to make one remark, respect- 
 ing the interrogative employment of it. In interrogations we 
 may simply state the thing, or the assertion respecting which we 
 require information, leaving our wishes to be inferred by the 
 reader from the connexion, or some word or mark of inter- 
 rogation, or by the hearer from a variation in our tone ; or 
 which is certainly preferable, we may make such a change in 
 the order of the words, as may leave our meaning out of doubt. 
 This is effected in our own language by putting the subject 
 after the verb ^ but this is not to be considered as making any 
 change on the mode of its signification, but merely as indica- 
 ting to the eye or ear the wish of the speaker to gain infor> 
 matiou respecting the affirmation. 
 
 We shall ^here subjoin a specimen of the manner in which 
 we would conjugate the English verb, agreeably to the fore- 
 going principles. 
 
 Noun-state. 
 Infinitive. Call, or, to call. 
 Imperative. Call, or, call thou, or, call you or ye. 
 
 Participies. 
 Present. Calling. 
 Perfect. Called. 
 
 Indicative. 
 
 Present Tense, 
 
 Siag. .1. I call. 2. Thou callest. 3. He calleth or calls. 
 
 Plur. 1. We call. 2. Ye or you call, 3. They call. 
 
 Preterite Tense, 
 
 Sing. 1. I called. 2. Thou calledst. 3. He called. 
 Plur. 1. We called, 2. Ye or you called, 3. They called. 
 
 Conditional. 
 
 Sing. 1. I call. 2. Thou call. 3. He call. 
 
 Plur. 1. We call. 2. Ye or you call. 3. They call. 
 
 Ye, is always plural ; but i/ou is continually employed, m 
 modern colloquial language, instead of thou. When this
 
 92 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 is done, the verb is used in the same manner as tfiough you 
 were used with the plural force. 
 
 The verb to be is very irregular ; and it possesses a form 
 which is altogether peculiar to it, and is used exclusively after 
 contingent words : this may be called the Preterite Tense of 
 the conditional !Mood. It is as follows ; 
 
 Sing. 1. I were. 2. Thon wert. 3. He were. &c. 
 " We imagine there is little room to doubt, that this form is 
 merely a variation of the indicaUve foi nj of the preterite tense ; 
 gradually Hppioj)riated to its present use, but having no dis- 
 tinction originally from that form. Such appropriations are 
 often of great service in aidhig accuracy of discrimination ; 
 but they are to be regarded as the refinements of language, not 
 as making a part of its original structure. 
 
 V. Of the Participle. Participles are formed from 
 verbs, generally by the addition of terminations, originally 
 without doubt expressive, but now oeasing to have, in them- 
 selves considered, any force. Those participles which are formed 
 by the addition of ing to the noun-state of the verb, express 
 a continued state of the verbal denotement ; and as it is 
 frequently implied, that what is meant by the verb is bein^ 
 continued at some time referred to, they are called present par- 
 ticiples. Those which are formed by the addition of ed or 
 en to the noun-state, or by some change in the characteristic 
 letters of the verb, usually denote the completed state of what 
 is meant by the verb : hence they are called perfect participles, 
 or sometimes, with less propriety, past or passive participles. 
 There does not seem to be any material difficulty attending the 
 employment of these words, except in the case where a perfect 
 participle is employed after the verb have, as, I have learned 
 my lesson. It has been supposed that this means, I possess the 
 finished act of learning my lesson : we think it more probable 
 that it means, / possess my lesson in that state which is called 
 learned; in which case it is exactly equivalent to the Latin 
 htUfere, followed by a participle in agrecmeat with a noua.
 
 GRAMMAR. 9^ 
 
 We readily admit that by, I have learned it, there is an in- 
 ference brought into view which is not by, / have it learned; 
 but it seems to be merely the inference of custom, not result- 
 ing from any essential difference in the mode of expression. 
 
 VI. Of the Adverb. We have already given a general ac- 
 count of the class of words called verbs. Those to which our 
 definition will apply, and to which alone the teem should be 
 appropriated, are principally adnouns with or without nouns 
 connected with them ; others are prepositions with nouns fol- 
 lowing them ; and the remainder are participles. The chief 
 class of adverbs are those which end in /y ,- which termination is 
 an abbreviation of the adiioun spelt like, which is still fre- 
 quently used in North Biitain as we use /y ; thus, for wisely, 
 they say wiselike. Of this class, a large proportion are form- 
 ed by adding ly to adnouns ; another set by adding the termi- 
 nation to nouns, as manly, early, (from aeji morning) &c. ; 
 and these last are also used as adnouns. Abed, aboard, ashore, 
 &c., and perchance, perhaps, are prepositions with nouns ; a 
 signifying on, in, or at, and per being the Latin preposition. 
 Why, how, &c. seem to be restrictives, their nouns being 
 understood ; tohy signifying what, cause, or reason being un- 
 derstood ; how signifying which, way or manner being un- 
 derstood. Several adverbs besides those before-mentioned 
 ending in ly, are used either as adnouns or adverbs ; such as well, 
 ill, much, worse, better, &c.; in all such cases it must be re- 
 membered that not the manner of signification, but merely 
 the manner of employment, is changed. On the origin of 
 most of those adverbs which are less obviously formed from 
 other sorts of words. Home Tooke has thrown great light ; and 
 some of his derivations w^e shall briefly state. The following 
 are past participles of Anglo-Saxon verbs : ago signifying gone 
 (time) ; adrift signifies driven ; asunder means separated ; fain, 
 rejoiced ; lief, beloved ; astray, strayed or scattered. lSeds is 
 need-is, used parenthetically. Belike is by lykke, by chance. 
 Aloft is on or in lyftf i, e, the air, clouds, &c, Much is
 
 94 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 from mo, (a heap) and is merely the diminutive of this word, 
 passing through the gradual changes of mokei, mr/kel, mochilf 
 mtichel (still used in Scotland), moche, much. Rather is the 
 comparative of rath, swift. Quick/t/ is quicklike, being a 
 past participle sig>iifying enlivened; and it means in a lifelike 
 or lively manner. Very is merely the French adjective vrai, 
 anciently veray, from the Latin verm. Some words usually 
 classed with adverbs, seem to have no commou link of union 
 with the genuine adverb ; such dire yes, aye, yea, and no : indeed 
 Mr. H. Tooke speaks of this class of words as the common 
 sink and repository of all heterogeneous, unknown corruptions. 
 Aye, or yea, is the imperative of a verb of northern extrac- 
 tion, and means have it ; and yes is ay-es, have that. Not 
 (a genuine adverb) and no, its derivative, have their origin in 
 the word from which arise the Dutch noode, node, no, mean- 
 ing averse, unwilling. 
 
 VII. Op the Connective. ^The precise nature of the 
 words usually denominated Conjunctions and Prepositions, 
 was very little known, and not generally even suspected, till 
 the publication of tlie " Diversions of Purley:" since that 
 time, though philologists do not seem willing to admit, in all 
 cases, the correctness of Mr. Tooke's derivations, yet his 
 general principle is, we suppose, universally considered as 
 completely established. Before his discoveries, it was the 
 common opinion respecting the conjunction, that it is ** a 
 part of speech void of signification itself, but so formed as to 
 help signification, by making two or more significant sentences 
 to be one significant sentence ;" and respecting the preposition, 
 that it is " a part of speech, devoid itself of signification, but 
 so formed as to unite two words that are significant, and that 
 refuse to coalesce or unite of themselves." We cannot enter 
 here into the arguments against these definitions, and the 
 doctrine on which they are founded ; nor indeed is it necessary ; 
 for, like the doctrine of instincts in mental philosophy, this 
 solely depends on an appeal to ignorance, and falls to the
 
 GRAMMAR. 95 
 
 ground when a probable account is given of those procedures 
 which it is invented to explain. The distinction between pre- 
 positions and conjunctions we consider as merely technical, re- 
 ferring to the grammatical usage of employing the objective 
 form of pronouns after the former, and not after the latter, 
 unless there be some word understood which requires it ; for 
 it will be obvious to any one, that some conjunctions are still 
 used " to unite words" as well as sentences ; and that some 
 prepositions are still used to unite sentences. The general 
 principle before referred to is, " that all those words which 
 are usually termed conjunctions or prepositions, are the ab- 
 breviations or corruptions of nouns or verbs, and are still em- 
 ployed with a sense (directly) referable to that which they bore 
 when in the acknowledged form of nouns or verbs." We 
 believe this to be a correct statement of Mr. Tooke's theory ; 
 to adapt it to our own arrangements, we must include our 
 adjectives under the term nouns, and our participles under the 
 term verbs : and in addition to this remark, which is merely 
 verbal, we must add, that in some instances this great philolo- 
 gist appears to have too much overlooked a procedure which 
 meets us in various stages of language, viz. that among the 
 ideas connected with a word, that which was originally of 
 primary importance, becomes by accidental circumstances in 
 the mode of application, secondary only, and sometimes by 
 degrees is altogether lost from the view of the mind, giving 
 place to others with which, from some cause or other, the 
 word has been associated. 
 
 We now proceed to lay before our readers some specimens 
 of the derivations and explanations given by Mr. H. Tooke. 
 That is frequently termed a conjunction; it is sometimes 
 termed a pronoun ; we class it with the restrictives : but under 
 whatever name it is known, its use and signification is the same. 
 The differences supposed to be perceived in them, arise sim- 
 ply from unnoticed ellipses or abbreviations of construction. 
 If it be remembered that that was originally applicable to 
 nouns of both numbers, no difficulty will be found by any
 
 9^ BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 intelligent reader in anal} zing sentences in which it occurs as a 
 pronoun : in cases where it is used as a conjunction, the fol- 
 lowing analyses will serve as a sufficient clue. " I wish you 
 to believe that 1 would not hurt a fly." Resolution ; I would 
 not hurt a fly, I wish you to believe that (assertion.) " Thieves 
 rise by night that they may cut men's throats." Resolution ; 
 Thieves may cut men's throats, (for) that (purpose) they rise 
 by night. 7/ (formerly written gif) is merely the imperative 
 of the Gothic and Anglo Saxon verb gifan, to give. In Scot- 
 land and the northern counties of England, gin is used in 
 place of if; and gin is merely the past participle given abbrevi- 
 ated. Hence " I will read, if {or gin) you will listen," means, 
 give (or this given) that you will listen, I will read : and it 
 cannot be unknown to the classical reader that the imperative 
 da is used in exactly the same manner. An, now nearly ob- 
 solete, is the imperative of unan, to grant. Unless (formerly 
 sometimes written onles) is the imperative of onlesan, to send 
 away. From alesan comes the imperative else; and froiB 
 lesan the past participle lest ; both verbs meaning the same 
 with onlesan. From the same source come less and least, the 
 privative termination less, the verbs loosen, lose, lessen, &c. 
 Yet is the imperative of getan, to get; and still, of stillan, 
 to put. Though (in some counties still pronounced thaf, 
 thof,) is the imperative of thofian, to allow or grant. But 
 is now corruptly employed for two words, hot and but : hot is 
 the imperative of botan, to boot, to add, in order to supply a 
 deficiency ; but, of beon-utan, to be-out, and has the same 
 sigailication as without, hut properly requires a negative in 
 construction with it, as I saw none but him ; but it is often 
 omitted, as, I saw but two plants. Without is the imperative of 
 wyilhan-ufan, to be-out. y^(/ is the imperative of anan-ad, 
 to heap, or add. Formerly four different sets of words were 
 used where now since is used, and it is now taken four 
 ways: 1. For stththan, sithence, or seen and thenceforwurds ; 
 as, It has not been done since the reign of John. 2. For 
 lyMC; sene, or seen; as, Did (jieorge IL. hve belure or >ince
 
 GRAMMAR. 97 
 
 lliat example. 3. For seand, seeing^ seeing as, or seeing that ; 
 as, I should labour for truth, since no effort is lost. 4. For 
 siththe, sitlif seen-as, or seen 'that ; as, Since death in the end 
 takes from all. Sithence and sith were in good use till (he 
 time of the Stuarts. So and as are articles meaning the same 
 as it, that or which. As he sows, so he will reap, with the 
 ellipses supplied is, (In) what (manner) he sows, (in) that he 
 will reap, or even without supplj'ing them, What he sows, 
 that he will reap. 
 
 Prepositions, to use the ideas of Mr. Tooke, are necessary 
 in language, because it is impossible to have a distinct com- 
 plex term for each different collection of ideas which wehave 
 occasion to put together in discourse. By the aid of pre- 
 positions, complex terms are prevented from being indefinitely 
 numerous ; and are used only for those collections of ideas 
 which we have most occasion to use. This end is thus 
 answered : we either take that complex term which includes 
 the greatest number, though not all of the ideas we would 
 communicate, or else that which includes all and the fewest 
 more ; and then by the help of the preposition, we either make 
 up tlie deficiency in the one case, or retrench the superfluity 
 in the other : so, a house with a party-wall ; a house without a 
 roof. Other relations are declared by prepositions ; but they 
 have all meanings of their own, and are constantly used accord- 
 ing to those meanings. With is the imperative of withan, to 
 join-: sometimes of wyrthan, to be ; in which case it is exactly 
 the same with by. Through or thorough is the Gothic sub- 
 stantive dauro, or the Teutonic thuruh, and like them means 
 door, gate, passage : so, through the air, is, 'passage thfe air, or 
 the air being the passage or medium. From is the Anglo- 
 Saxon noun frum, beginning, source, author. Of this word, 
 Harris produces three examples, which he considers as proving 
 that it is used in three different relations, viz. detached rela- 
 tion, quiescence, and motion, the last two being contradictor)' : 
 these figs come from Turkey ; the lamp hangs from the ceil- 
 
 VOL. I. BK
 
 98 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 iiig ; the lamp falls from the ceiling. Now came is a com-^ 
 plex term for one species of motion ; fallsy for another ; hang$, 
 for a species of attachment. Have we occasion to mention 
 tBe beginning or commencement of these motions and this at- 
 tachment, and the place where they begin or commence? 
 What more natural or more simple than to add the signs of 
 these ideas, viz. the word beginning (which always remains the 
 same,) and the name of the place (which will perpetually vary)? 
 
 Figs came beginning Turkey; lamp ] r n r beginning ceil- 
 ing : i. e. Turkey, the place of beginning to come ; ceiling the 
 place of beginning to ] ^ ii c ^"^ is the Gothic substantive 
 
 taui, act, eflFect, end, or result, which is itself the past partici- 
 ple of taugan, to do. While is an Anglo-Saxon substantive, 
 signifying time ; till, is to-zchile, to the time ; until, is on to 
 the time. Of is probably a fragment of the Anglo-Saxon 
 substantive afora, oflFspring, &c. and always means conse- 
 quence, offspring, succession, follower, &c. In all the instan- 
 ces produced in the dictioimries, cause may be substituted for 
 for, without injury to the sense, though sometimes awkwardly. 
 It is probably the Gothic substantive fairina, cause. By is 
 the imperative of beon, to be ; frequently, but not always, 
 used with an abbreviation of construction, instrument, came, 
 agent, &c. being understood. Among is thfe past participle 
 of gamangan, to mingle. After is the comparative of aft. 
 About is from boda, the first outward boundary or extremity 
 of any thing ; hence onboda, onbuta, abuta, about. In, out, 
 on, off, and at, Mr. Tooke does not profess to trace to an 
 origin ; we feel little doubt that on is simply one of the several 
 forms of the numeral one ; and the same process of thought 
 has occurred in the Greek, where ik and (and perhaps also 
 ) are almost indisputably the corresponding numeral. We 
 should have thought it probable that the English in has the 
 same origin, as on, if Mr. H. Tooke had not produced the
 
 GRAMMAR. 99 
 
 Gothic substantive inna, the interior part of the body (used 
 also for cave or cell). Out, he thinks, not improbably, origi- 
 nally meant skin. 
 
 Of the Interjection. ^Wehaveverylittle to say in ad- 
 dition to what we have said respecting this small and insignificant 
 class of words. OA, or O, is almost the only word for which 
 it is necessary. A few other words may be mentioned as be- 
 ing usually classed with it. Farewell. is the imperative of faran, 
 to go, and the adverb well. Halt is the imperative of healderiy 
 to hold. 1,0 is the imperative of look. Fie is the imperative 
 oijian, to hate. Welcome means, it is ?iye// that you are come. 
 Adieu, used so often without a moment's thought as to its se- 
 rious import, is the French a Dieu, to God, meaning, I com- 
 mend you to God, 
 
 We shall now conclude with some directions for the study 
 of Grammar. Though, in all probability, most of our read- 
 ers will have learnt the art of grammar, as usually taught at 
 schools, yet our remarks may be of service to them, either in 
 their farther attention to the subject with a view to their own 
 improvement, or in communicating instruction to others. 
 
 We know no better elementary woiif on grammar, than 
 Lindley Murray's. He has, in some instances, burdened the 
 learner with unnecessary additions to the simplicity of the 
 English language ; and, in our opinion, there is still room for 
 improvement in his practical directions, and more especially 
 in his arrangement or classification. We would have the 
 English language taught as it is, not fettered with restraints 
 derived from languages in which there is a great variety of 
 flexion : and we wish to see practical grammars constructed 
 upon correct scientific principles ; though it may not be expe- 
 dient to bring those principles too early in view. The young 
 should have as little as possible to unlearn.* Nevertheless, 
 
 The writer of this article has for some years had by him, a brief Intro- 
 ductory Grammar, founded on what he regards as the real principles of our 
 language. He has it in contemplation to print it, when his engagements 
 afford him the opportunity of a revisal. 
 
 H 2
 
 100 , BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 as a practical guide to the actual usages of our language, Mi'. 
 Murray's Grammar seems to stand unrivalled ; and without 
 paying too much attention to those parts which he classes under 
 Elymologj/, his Sj/ntax will afford a variety of very important 
 artd valuable observations, directing to the proper niode of writ- 
 ing and speaking. It will be found of the greatest advantage 
 to those who may have neglected this branch of instruction, to 
 Mrite his Exercises on Syntax, carefully attending, as they go 
 ak>ng, to th^ rules and observations on which they are founded : 
 and if they have no competent assistance to enable them to 
 ascertain the propriety of their corrections, the Key will ge- 
 nerally prove an excellent guide. We ^ould recommend 
 them, however, never to consult the key, till they have them- 
 selves done their best, by the aid of the Grammar merely: 
 they will thus make the employment very serviceable in the 
 culture of the judgment, as well as more efficacious in acquiring 
 a correct acquaintance with the rules of the language.- At 
 the end of the exercises on syntax, are some, which are very 
 useful, on punctuation and the qualities of style. These may, 
 with great benefit, be emploj ed in tlie same way ; but we 
 can by no means recommend the use of his exercises on 
 orthography. Their- direct, and, we tliink, necessary ten- 
 dency, is to confuse the recollection of tlie visible appearance 
 of words ; and thereby to lessen, instead of increasing, the 
 facility and accuracy of our spelling. To acquire correctness 
 in orthography, the best way is to write, frequently from me- 
 mory or from dictation, or to write translations from other 
 languages; to employ a good dictionary (Walker's, for instance,) 
 in all cases of doubt ; and, which will be found very beneficial, 
 to keep a register of ail words wherein a difficulty is felt, and 
 often to review those which have been entered. The mere 
 transcribing of passages from manuscript or printed books, will 
 also be found of great advantage ; and it is assuredly much 
 better to write from correctly spelt copies, than to correct what 
 is spelt wrong. However, Mr. Murray's Grammar will fur- 
 nish some useful directions in orthography.
 
 GRAMMAR. 101 
 
 To those who wish to study the rules of our language, with 
 the greatest benefit to themselves, we also strongly recom- 
 mend Dr. Crombie's work, on " Etymology and Syntax." 
 Numerous very valuable observations will be found in it, cal- 
 culated to aid the researches of the student in the department 
 of scientific grammar ; and the practical remarks it affords, are, 
 in many places, excellent. We are not acquainted with any 
 other work of the kind ; and though we do not agre^ with the 
 learned author, in all his philosophical or practical principles, 
 we regard his book as a very useful one, and shall be glad if 
 these remarks contribute to make it more known among those 
 for whose use our volumes are primarily intended. 
 
 If the reader is desirous of pursuing the study of scientific 
 grammar, he will scarcely need any directions from us ; but 
 he may find the following hints of use. Some valuable re- 
 marks occur in the general grammar of Messrs. de Port Royal, 
 and in Mr. Dalton's English grammar. Harris's Hermes, 
 which, in many respects, deserves the, sometimes unmerciful, 
 ridicule of Home Tooke, is, notwithstanding, entitled to a 
 careful perusal. It is almost unnecessary to add, that Mr. 
 Tooke's Epea Pteroenta, or Diversions of Purley, claim the 
 very attentive examination of the student. He need not be 
 alarmed at the size of the volumes, for the substance might 
 be easily compressed into a moderate octavo ; and, however 
 much he may occasionally be wearied with the illustrative ex- 
 amples, he will find himself recompensed by the scintillations 
 of wit and genius, which present themselves in every part ; 
 and from those examples, he may often derive great fight as 
 to the principles of language in general, and especially the 
 progress and phenomena of our own. We cannot avoid men- 
 tioning, by way of caution, that he ought not to trust implicitly 
 to the author's representations, respecting mental or njoral 
 philosophy. If Mr. Tooke had known more respecting the 
 operations of the associative power, he Would himself, in all 
 probability, have gone farther than he has, and been a safer 
 guide to others. To those who have access to the Encyclo-
 
 102 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 pedia Biuannica, we recommend the perusal of the article 
 grammar, in thut work, as one from which we derived much 
 benefit when we first attended to the subject. In the great 
 French work, Encyciopedie Melhodique, are many very valu- 
 able observations, in the portion on grammar, which will well 
 repay the perusal of the student. He will, of course, if he 
 have an opportunity, consult the article grammar, in Dr. 
 Rees's Cyclopedia.
 
 CHAP V. 
 
 ON THE STRUCTURE OF SENTENCES. 
 
 Of what a sentence is to consist Rules for the construction of sentences 
 Properties of a good sentence Precision exemplified in the use of ad< 
 verbs, &c. ^The Unity of sentences considered and exemplified. 
 
 A SENTENCE always implies at least one complete pro- 
 position, or enunciation of thought ; but every sentence is not 
 necessarily confined to a single proposition. It usually con- 
 sists of component parts, which are called members; these 
 may be few or many, and may be connected in different ways, 
 so that the same thought or mental proposition, may frequent- 
 ly be compressed into one sentence, or distributed into two or 
 three. 
 
 A proper construction of sentences is of great importance 
 in every species of composition : it is ^e foundation of good 
 writing, so that we cannot be too strict in our attention to it. 
 In any subject, if the sentences be perplexed, clumsy, or 
 feebly expressed, it will not only disgust the reader, but 
 frequently destroy the effect which the writer intended to 
 produce. 
 
 It is impossible to lay down rules, with regard to the pre- 
 cise length of sentences : a short period is lively and familiar, 
 and likely to be remembered : but a long period, if clearly 
 expressed, requiring more attention, is calculated to make 
 more grave and solemn impression. Without much atten-
 
 104 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 t'ton, wiiters and speakers are liable to err in both these re- 
 spects. By means of too many short sentences, the sense is 
 divided and broken, th^ connexion of thought weakened, and 
 the memory burdened. On the other hand, long sentences 
 fatigue the reader's or liearer's attention. If a writer is fully 
 master of his subject, he ought, and he will study a due mix- 
 ture of long and short periods, which prevents an irksome 
 uniformity, and entertains the mind with a variety of impres- 
 sion. Long sentences should never be placed at the begin- 
 ning of discourses of any description : the reader's attention, 
 and, if possible, his interest must be excited, before a person 
 venture upon long sentences. 
 
 Lord Kames has given rules for the arrangeqjent of words 
 in a sentence, which are deserving of attention. His object 
 is, that the arrangement of words in succession, should be 
 such as to afford the greatest pleasure to the ear, a circum- 
 stance which, he says, depends on principles remote from 
 view, and, therefore, he premises some general observations 
 upon the appearance that objects make when placed in an 
 increasing or decreasing scries, which we shall transcribe. 
 
 " Where," says our author, " the objects vary by small 
 differences, so as to have a mutual resemblance, we, in as- 
 cending, conceive the second object of no greater size than 
 the first, the third of no greater size than the second, and so 
 of the rest ; which diminisheth in appearance, the size of 
 every object except the^iirst ; but when beginning at the great- 
 est object, we proceed gradually to the least, resemblance 
 makes us imagine the second as great as the first, and the 
 third as great as the second ; ivhich in appearance magnifies 
 everj' object except the first. On tlie other hand, in a serie 
 varying by large differences, when contrast prevails, the effects 
 are directly opposite ; a great object succeeding a small one of 
 the same kind, appears greater than usual ; and a little ob- 
 ject succeeding one that is great, appears less than usual. 
 Hence a remarkable pleasure in viewing a series ascending by 
 laige differences, directly opposite to what we feel vyhen the
 
 STRUCTURE OF SENTENCES. 105 
 
 differences are small. The least object of a series, ascending 
 hy large differences, has the same effect upon the mind as if 
 it stood singly without making part of the series : but the 
 second object, by means of contrast, appears greater than 
 when viewed singly and apart, and the same effect is per- 
 ceived in ascending progressively, till we arrive at the last 
 object. The opposite effect is produced in descending ; for 
 in this direction every object, except the first, appears less 
 than when viewed separately and independeat of the series. 
 W'e may then assume, as a maxim, which will hold in the 
 composition of language, as well as of other subjects, that a 
 strong impulse succeeding a weak one, makes a double im- 
 pression on the mind, and that a weak impulse succeeding a 
 strong, makes scarcely any impression." 
 
 After establishing this maxim, he says, we can be at no 
 loss about its application to the subject, and that in the 
 arrangement of words in a sentence, we should not, in general, 
 descend from the greater to the Jess, but, on the contrary, 
 ascend from the less to the greater : thus, in the Latin, " Vjr 
 est optimus," reads much better than " Vir optimus est." 
 This rule is also applicable to entire members of a period, 
 which ought also to proceed from the less to the greater: 
 and this arrangement of words, or members of a sentence, gra- 
 dually increasing in length, may, as far as concerns the 
 pleasure of sound, be denominated a climax in sound. To 
 shew the importance of attending to this subject, Lord Karnes 
 says, by no other human means is it possible to present to 
 the mind, such a number of objects, and in so swift suc- 
 cession, as by speaking or writing; and for that reason, 
 variety ought to be more studied in these, than in any sort of 
 composition. Hence the rule for arranging the members of 
 different periods with relation to each other, is to avoid a 
 tedious uniformity of sound and cadence : the cadence, and 
 the length of the iembers, ought to be diversified as much as 
 possible ; and if the members of different periods be suffi- 
 ciently diversified, the periods themselves will be equally so.
 
 106 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 The properties, according to Blair, most essential to a 
 perfect sentence, seem to be the four following: clearness 
 and precision: uuity : strength; and harmony. 
 
 Every degree of ambiguity, arising from the want of 
 clearness and precision, ought to be avoided with the greatest 
 care : hence the necessity of observing exactly the rules of 
 grammar, and in the arrangement of sentences, those words 
 and members most nearly related should be placed in the 
 sentence, as near each other as possible, so as to make their 
 mutual relation clearly manifest. 
 
 1. In the position of adverbs, which are used to qualify the 
 signification of something that precedes or follows them, 
 there is often much nicety. This part of speech, as its name 
 implies, is generally placed near the verb, which it afifects or 
 modifies : 
 
 Examples : " Theism can only be opposed to polytheism, 
 or atheism." Lord Shaftsbury. By this arrangement of the 
 word only, it should seem, the noble author meant that, 
 theism is capable of nothing else, except being opposed to 
 polytheism or atheism. He intended, no doubt, to say, it 
 could be opposed to nothing but atheism and polytheism, and 
 to express this, he should have written, " Theism can be 
 opposed only to atheism," 8cc. Here the adverb stands, as it 
 often ought, close to flie verb. 
 
 Swift, in his Project for the advancement of religiojif 
 says, " The Romans tmderstood liberty, at least, as well as 
 We." That is, the Romans, in \vhatever else they were de- 
 ficient, understood the nature of liberty as well as we ; or it 
 may mean, according as the emphasis is laid, The Romans 
 understood the nature of liberty as well or better than our- 
 selves : the latter was probably the Dean's meaning, and the 
 arrangement should have been " The Romans understood 
 liberty, as well, at least, as we." 
 
 There are, in common use, certain phrases which are 
 themselves equivocal, and are calculated to produce ob- 
 curity, as, not the least, nothing less, &c. Thus, " He aimed
 
 STRUCTURE OF SENTENCES. 10? 
 
 at nothing less than the crov/n ;" which may imply, that he 
 was far from aiming at, or it may signify, that nothing less 
 Mould satisfy him. 
 
 In common conversation, the tone and emphasis made use 
 of in pronouncing such adverbs as onli/, wholly, at hast, shew 
 the meaning at once ; and on this account we often acquire a 
 habit of throwing them in, without due attention in the course 
 of a period. But in written discourses, which address the eye, 
 and not the ear^ greater accuracy is requisite ; and they should 
 be so connected with the words they are intended to qualify, as 
 to prevent every appearance of ambiguity. 
 
 2. Words, expressive of things connected in thought, should 
 be placed as near as possible ; because, when objects are ar- 
 ranged according to their connexion, we have a sense of 
 order : when they are placed, as it were, by chance, we have 
 a sense of disorder. This rule is very important, since it is 
 chiefly by the connective parts of sentences, that the train of 
 thought, and the course of reasoning in continued discourse, is 
 laid open. ;, 
 
 Examples. " The English are naturally fanciful, and very 
 often disposed, by that gloominess and melancholy of temper, 
 which is so frequent in our nation, to many wild notions and 
 visions, to which others are not so liable." Spectator. In this 
 sentence, the verb disposed is separated unnecessarily from 
 the subject to which it refers. The sentence should run 
 thus : ' 
 
 " The English are naturally fanciful"; and, by that gloomi- 
 ness and melancholy of temper, which is so frequent in our 
 nation, are often disposed to many wild notions," &c. 
 
 " Our English is, among those dialects, one that I think 
 more capable of improvement than any other." Monboddo on 
 Language. It would be better : " Our English is one, among 
 those dialects, that I think," &c. 
 
 3. Great attention is required in the proper disposition of 
 the relative pronouns who, zehich, what, and whose, and of 
 those particles which express the connexion of the parts of
 
 108 BELLES LETXnES. 
 
 speech with one another ; because all reasoning depends on 
 these ; and a small error in this respect, may render a whole 
 sentence obscure, and ahnost uninteUigible. 
 
 Examples : In one of Dr. Sherlock's sermons, is the fol- 
 lowing passage, " It is folly to pretend to arm ourselves against 
 Uie accidents of life, by heaping up treasures, >\hich nothing 
 can protect us against, but the good providence of our heavenly 
 Father." According to the rules of grammar, the word which 
 refers to treasures; this would, however, make nonsense of the 
 x^-faole period ; and the sentence should run thus : " It is folly 
 to pretend, by heaping up treasures, to arm ourselves against 
 the accidents of life ; which nothing can protect us against, 
 but the good providence of our heavenly Father." 
 
 " Solomon, the son of David, who built the temple," &c. ; 
 and " Solomon, the son of David, tcho was persecuted," &c. 
 The relative, in the first sentence, refers to Solomon, and in 
 the second to David ; and yet it is similarly situated. 
 
 ** Many act so directly contrary to this method, that, from 
 a habit of saving time and paper^ which they acquired at the 
 university, they write in so diminutive a manner, that they can 
 hardly read what they have written." Swift. This should have 
 run thus : " From a habit, which many have acquired at the 
 university, of saving time and paper, tliey write," See. 
 
 ^* 1 allude to the article Blind, in the Encyclopedia Britan- 
 nica, published at Edinburgh, in the year 1783, vrbich was 
 written by him." Mackenzie's Life of Blacklock. By this 
 arrangepient of the sentence, Blacklock might be considered as 
 the sole author of the Encyclopedia ; whereas the writer of 
 his life meant to say he was author of the article Blind only ; 
 and, therefore, the sentence would have been better, " I al- 
 lude to the article Blind, which was written by him, and 
 published at Edinburgh, in the year 1783, in the Encyclopedia 
 Britannica." 
 
 Other instances mjght be enumerated ; but these are suffi- 
 cient to make the rule understood, that, in the construction 
 of sentences, one of the first things to be attended to is, th
 
 STRljeTlXRE OF SENTENCES. 109 
 
 marshalling of the words in such order, as shall most clearly 
 mark the relation of the several parts of the sentence to one 
 another ; particularly, that adverbs always be made to adhere 
 closely to the words which they are intended to qualify : to 
 which may be added, that in cases in which a circumstance is 
 thro<\n in, it shall never hang loose in the midst of a period, 
 but be determined by its place to one or other member of it 
 and that every relative should instantly present its antecedent tp 
 the reader, without the smallest obscurity. 
 
 It may be further added, that obscurity frequently arises 
 from the too frequent repetition of relatives, particularly of the 
 words, who, they, them, and theirs. 
 
 Examples : " And ihet/ did all eat, and were filled, and 
 they took up of the fragments that remained twelve baskets 
 full." The last they is not obvious : it may refer to the mul- 
 titude, or to the disciples. 
 
 " They were summoned, occasionally, by their kings, when 
 compelled by their wants, and by their fears, to have recourse 
 to their aid." When the personsil pronouns crowd in too fast 
 upon us, there is often no other method left, but to change 
 entirely the whole form of the sentence. 
 
 All languages are liable to ambiguities ; but Quintilian says, 
 that a sentence is always to be deemed faulty, when the ar- 
 rangement of the words is ambiguous, though the sense njay 
 be easily discovered. In the following sentences, the true 
 meaning cannot be ascertained, without attending to the con- 
 nexion in which they are found : " Statuam auream hastam 
 tenentem :" upon this it became a dispute at law, whether the 
 whole statue, or the spear only, was to be made of gold : 
 " Chrementera audivi percussisse Demeam," from this mode 
 of construction, it cannot be known whether Chremes or 
 Demea struck the blow. 
 
 " This work, in its full extent, being now afflicted with an 
 asthma, and finding the powers of life gradually declining, he 
 had no longer courage to undertake." Johnson's Life of 
 Savage. . . ^
 
 110 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 From this we may imagine, that it was the work, and not 
 llie author, that was afflicted with the asthma. It should 
 stand thus : " Being now afflicted with an asthma, and find- 
 ing the powers of life gradually declining, he had no longer 
 courage to undertake this work in its full extent." 
 
 " The minister, who grows less by his elevation, like a little 
 statue placed on a mighty pedestal, will always have his jea- 
 lousy strong about him." Tliis would be much better : "The 
 minister, who, like a little statue placed on a mighty pedestal, 
 grows less by his elevation, will always have his jealousy strong 
 about him." 
 
 The relation of every word and member of a sentence should 
 be marked in the most proper and distinct manner ; which will 
 give not only clearness, but grace and beauty to a sentence ; 
 making the mind pass smoothly and agreeably along all the 
 parts of it. 
 
 The Uniti/ of a sentence is next to be considered. There 
 must always be some leading principle to form a chain of con- 
 nexion between the component parts of every composition, 
 and there must be the same connecting principle among the 
 parts. In a single sentence, above all, the strictest unity is re- 
 quired ; for the very nature of a sentence implies one proposi- 
 tion' to be expressed. It may consist of parts ; but these parts 
 ought to be so closely bound together, as to make an impres- 
 sion upon the mind of one object, not of many. 
 
 To preserve unity in a sentence, the following rules have 
 been laid down by Dr. Blair. 
 
 1. The scene, the subject, and the person, should be changed 
 as little as possible. There is commonly, in every sentence, 
 some person or thing which is the governing word. This 
 should, if the case admit of it, be continued from the beginning 
 to the end of it. The following sentences are violations of 
 this rule. 
 
 Examples : " Cicero was oppressed by a new and cruel 
 affliction, the leath of his beloved daughter, TuUia, which 
 happened soon after her divorce from DolabeUa, whose man-
 
 STRUCTURE OF SENTENCES. Ill 
 
 iiers'and humours were entirely disagreeable to her." Middle- 
 ton's Life of Cicero. 
 
 The chief object in this sentence, is the death of Tullia, 
 the cause of Cicero's affliction. The time in which it hap- 
 pened was quite proper ; but the introduction of Dolabella's 
 character destroys the unity of the period, by presenting to the 
 reader a new picture. 
 
 " After we came to anchor, they put me on shore, where I 
 was welcomed by all my friends, who received me with the 
 greatest kindness." Here, by shifting so often the place, and 
 the persons, we, they, I, and who, the feeling of connexion 
 and unity is nearly lost. It would have been better thus: 
 *' Having come to an anchor, I was put on shore, where I was 
 welcomed by all my friends, and received with the greatest 
 kindness." 
 
 2. We should never crowd into one sentence, things that 
 have so little connexion, that they could bear to be divided 
 into two or more sentences. 
 
 Examples : Archbishop Tillotson, speaking of a person 
 lately deceased, says, " He was exceedingly beloved both by 
 King William and Queen Mary, who nominated Dr. Tennison, 
 bishop of Lincoln, to succeed him." In this sentence, there 
 is no connexion whatever between the latter part and the 
 former : it would have been more natural to have given some 
 proof of the fact, tliat he had been the object of their majes- 
 ties' affection, than to have spoken of his successor. 
 
 Plutarch, speaking of an army, says, " Their march was 
 through an uncultivated country, whose savage inhabitants 
 fared hardly, having no other riches than a breed of sheep, 
 whose flesh was rank and unsavoury, by reason of their conti- 
 nual feeding upon sea-fish." In this sentence there is a sad 
 jumble of objects, but very slightly related to each other, 
 which cannot be comprehended under one view : the march 
 of the Greeks : the description of the inhabitants of the coun- 
 try through which they passed : an account of their sheep, 
 and the reason of the ill taste of their flesh.
 
 112 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 Authors, who are fond of long periods, are apt to fall into 
 errors of this kind, of \rhicli we have a multitude of instances 
 iu Burnet and Clarendon ; and though punctuation may some- 
 times remedy the evil, yet commas, colons, &c. cannot make 
 the proper divisions of thought ; they only serve to mark those 
 Mhich arise from the mode of the author's expression ; and 
 they are proper or not, as they correspond to the natural -divi- 
 sion of the sense. 
 
 3. Parentheses ought not to be introduced in the middle 
 of sentences. On some occasions, a parenthesis may be fitly 
 introduced, when prompted by a certain vivacity of thought, 
 which can glance aside as it is going along ; but, in general, 
 their effect is extremely bad, and should be avoided, being, as 
 it were, wheels within wheels, or separate sentences within 
 other sentences. 
 
 Examples : " When the parliament sat down (for it de- 
 serves our particular observation, that both houses were fuH 
 of zeal for the present government, and of resentment against 
 the late usurpations), there was but one party in parliament ; 
 and no other party could raise its head in the nation." Boling- 
 broke. 
 
 The same author says, " It seems to me, that, in order to 
 maintain the system of the world, at a certain point, far 
 below that of ideal perfection (for we are made capable of 
 conceiving what we are incapable of attaining) but, however 
 sufficient upon the whole to constitute a state easy and happy, 
 or at the worst tolerable ; 1 say, it seems to me, that the Au- 
 thor of nature, has thought fit to mingle from time to time, 
 among societies of men, a few, and but a few, of those 
 on whom He is graciously pleased to bestow a larger propor- 
 tion of the ethereal spirit, than is given in the ordinary course 
 of his providence to the sons of men." 
 
 Into this sentence, by means of the parenthesis, and other 
 circumstances thrown in, the author has so involved so many 
 things, that he is obliged as it were, to begin again, with the 
 words / say, which, wheuever they occur, may be assumed
 
 STRUCTURE OF SENTENCES. 113 
 
 as a sure mark of a clumsy and ill-constructed sentence, 
 unpardonable in any one who pretends to neatness in style. 
 
 The best modern writers avoid all parentheses, as keeping 
 the mind in suspense, and rendering the composition less clear, 
 uniform, and agreeable. Long and frequent parentheses are 
 intolerable, as rendering the discourse dull and languid. The 
 proper characteristic of a parenthesis is, that it may be taken 
 in or left out, without injuring either the sense or grammar. 
 In speaking, the words in a parenthesis are pronounced in a 
 different tone of voice ; and in writing, they are enclosed 
 between brackets, or between two commas. 
 
 4. Sentences ought never to be extended beyond their 
 natural close. Every thing that is one, should have a begin- 
 ning, a middle, and an end. An unfinished or imperfect sen- 
 tence is no sentence at all. But some sentences are too full, 
 and when we have arrived at what we supposed would be the 
 conclusion, unexpectedly some circumstance occurs, which 
 ought to have been omitted, but which is left dragging behind. 
 Such additions tend very much to destroy the beauty, and to 
 diminish the strength of a period. 
 
 Examples. Swift, in speaking of the writings of Cicero, 
 says, " With these writings, young divines are more conversant, 
 than with those of Demosthenes, who, by many degrees, ex- 
 celled the other, at least as an orator." The natural close of 
 the sentence is at the word other: the sense was complete, 
 and the succeeding clause was quite unnecessary. H^^fC'-^ 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 ON THE STRUCTURE OF SENTENCES, 
 
 Continued. 
 
 Strength A necessary quality of a ^ood sentence Obtained by divesting 
 it of redundant words By tlie moderate use of copulatives, relatives, icc. 
 By the proper disposition of the capital words By the arrangement 
 By not concluding with an adverb, or other inconsiderable words and 
 by making the language correspond to the things described. 
 
 Jr ERSPICUITY and unity, though of the most importance 
 in the construction of sentences, are not the only things neces- 
 sary ; we must make such a disposition of the words and 
 members, as will render the impression, which the period is 
 designed to make, most full and complete, and give every 
 word, and every member, their due weight and force. In this 
 consists the strength of a sentence. To attain to this perfec- 
 tion in writing, the following rules should be attended to. 
 
 1. A sentence ought to be divested of all redundant 
 words, because these are never consistent with strength. All 
 words that do not add some importance to the meaning of a 
 sentence, always injure it. 
 
 Examples : " Being content with deserving a triumph, he 
 refused the honour of it." Bolingbroke. 
 
 " Never did Atticus succeed better in gaining the universal 
 love and esteem of all men." The word being, in the first 
 sentence, may advantageously be omitted ; and in the second,
 
 STRUCTURE OF SENTENCES. 115 
 
 one of the words in italics must be left out, because the same 
 idea is included in universal and all. 
 
 " How many are there, by whom these tidings of good news 
 were never heard?" This is tautology; it would be much 
 better, " by whom these good tidings were never heard." 
 
 " I returned, full of a great many serious reflections." The 
 words in italics should be omitted. Hence, says Dr. Blair, 
 " I consider it, therefore, as one of the most useful exercises 
 of correction, upon reviewing what we have written or com- 
 posed, to contract that round-about method of expression, 
 9ad to lop off those useless excrescences which are commonly 
 found in a first draught. Here a severe eye should be em- 
 ployed ; and we shall always find our sentences acquire more 
 vigour and energy when thus retrenched, provided we do not 
 run into the extreme of pruning so very close as to give a hard- 
 ness and dryness to style." 
 
 As sentences should be free from redundant words, so also 
 of redundant members. Every member should contain a new 
 thought ; and should not be a mere echo of the former, or the 
 repetition of it in a different form. Mr. Addison says, " It is 
 impossible for us to behold the divine works with coldness or 
 indifference ; or to survey so many beauties, without a secret 
 satisfaction and complacency." The second member of the 
 sentence adds but little to the first. 
 
 " Neither is any condition of life more honourable in the 
 sight of God than another ; otherwise He would be a respecter 
 of persons, which He assures us He is not." Swift. 
 
 The last clause weakens the thought, as it implies, that 
 without the assurance of God to the contrary, we should con- 
 clude that he sustained a character different from what was 
 given by the preacher. 
 
 2. In constructing a sentence, particular attention is to be 
 paid to the use of copulatives, relatives, &c. These little words 
 are frequently the most important of any ; they are the joints or 
 hinges on which all sentences turn, and of course much, both 
 of the gracefulness and strength, must depend upon such par-
 
 116 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 tides. The varieties in using them are, indeed, so numerous, 
 that no particular rules respecting them can be given. The 
 best way of attaining to accuracy is, to study writers who excel 
 in neatness and elegance of style, and to observe, with critical 
 attention, the effects produced by a different usage of those 
 particles. The following observations may be of use to young 
 people. 
 
 The splitting of particles, or separating a preposition from 
 a noun which it governs, is always to be avoided. 
 
 Example : " Though virtue borrows no assistance from^ 
 yet it may often be accompanied by, the advantages of for- 
 tune." Here we are put to a stand in thought, being obliged 
 to rest a little on the preposition from, by itself, which haa 
 no significancy, till joined to its proper noun. 
 ~j We should not needlessly multiply demonstrative and rela- 
 lative particles, by the use of phrases like this : " There is no- 
 thing which disgusts us sooner than the empty pomp of lan- 
 guage." This may be proper, when it is introductory to an 
 important observation ; but, in common cases, it is better to 
 say, "Nothing disgusts us sooner than tlie empty pomp of 
 language." It is not only shorter, but more simple. 
 
 We should not omit the relative ; as in the following 
 
 Examples : " The man I love :" *' The dominions we 
 possessed :" " The soldiers in the camp were prepared for 
 the part they were to act." 
 
 Though this elliptical style be intelligible, and is allowable 
 in conversation and epistolary writing, yet it is not to be tole- 
 rated in grave and dignified compositions : in these, relatives 
 must be used : *' The man whom I love." " The dominions 
 which we possessed." " The part which they were to act." 
 
 With regard to the copulative particle and, it may be ob- 
 served, that an unnecessary repetition of it enfeebles the style. 
 It has a similar effect in writing, as the frequent use of the 
 phrase and so, in telling a story in common conversation. It 
 is, however, wortliy of observation, that though the natural 
 use of the conjunction and be, to join objects together, and
 
 STRUCTURE OF SENTENCES. 117 
 
 thereby to make their connexion more close ; yet, in fact, by 
 dropping the conjunction, we often mark a quicker succession 
 of objects, than when it is inserted between them, of which an 
 example is found in the famous expression " Veni, vidi, vici," 
 " 1 came, I saw, I conquered." Another example of the 
 same kind is taken from Xenophon : " Closing their shields, 
 they were impelled, they fought, they slew, and were slain." 
 By this means, sentences, artfully divested of conjunctions, 
 drop smoothly down, and the periods are poured along in such 
 a manner, that they seem to outstrip the very thought of the 
 speaker. Voltaire, in the Henriade, has endeavoured to shew 
 the hurry and confusion of a battle in this same way, by omit- 
 ting all copulatives, 
 
 Fran9ois, Anglois, Lorrains, qae la fureur assemble, 
 Avan^oient, combattoient, frappoient, monroient ensemble. 
 
 The eagerness of Dido, at the idea of Eneas's departure, is 
 shewn in the precipitate manner in which she commands her 
 servants to endeavour to stop him : 
 
 Ferte citi flammas, date vela, impellite remos. 
 
 -Ite 
 
 Haste, ban] my gallies ont ; pursue the foe ; 
 Bring flaming brands, set sail, and quickly row. 
 
 Dryden. 
 
 There are cases, in which copulatives may be multiplied with 
 peculiar advantage and grace, as when we are making an enu- 
 meration, in which we wish that the objects should appear as 
 distinct from each other as possible, and that the mind should 
 rest for a moment on each object by itself; thus: Lord JBo- 
 lingbroke says, " Such a man might fall a victim to power ; 
 but truth, and reason, and liberty, would fail with him." 
 
 An attention to the several cases, when it is proper to omit, 
 and when to redouble the copulative, is of considerable im- 
 portance to all who would write well, or become judges of 
 good composition. It is a remarkable peculiarity in language,
 
 118 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 that the omission of a connecting particle should sometimes 
 serve to make objectii appear more closely connected ; and 
 that the repetition of it should distinguish and separate them, 
 in some measure, from each other. Oa this account, the 
 omission denotes rapidity ; and the repetition of it is designed 
 to retard. The reason seems to be, that, in the former case, 
 the mind is supposed to be hurried so fast through a succes- 
 sion of objects, that it has not leisure to point out their con- 
 nexion ; it drops the copulatives in its hurry, and crowds the 
 whole series together, as it were but one object. Whereas, 
 when we enumerate, with a view to retard, the mhid is sup- 
 posed to proceed with a more slow and solemn pace : it marks 
 the relation of each object to that which succeeds it ; and, by 
 joining them together with several copulatives, leads one to 
 imagine that the objects, though connected, are yet in them- 
 selves distinct ; that they are several, not one. As an illustra- 
 tion of this reasoning, Dr. Blair gives the enumeration of the 
 apostle Paul, to shew what additional weight and distinctness 
 is given to each particular, by the mere repetition of a con- 
 junction : " I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor 
 angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor 
 things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, 
 shall be able to separate us from the love of God." 
 
 3. Another rule for promoting the strength of a sentence 
 is, to dispose of the capital word or words, in that place of the 
 sentence, where they will make the fullest impression; this 
 place will, however, vary with the nature of the sentence. lo 
 all cases, perspicuity is principally to be attended to ; but ge- 
 nerally, perhaps, the important words are placed in the begin- 
 ning of the sentence, thus : " The pleasures of the imagination, 
 taken in their full extent, are not so gross as those of the sense, 
 nor so refined as those of the understanding:" It seems 
 the most plain and natural order, to place that in the front, 
 which is the chief object of the proposition to be laid down. 
 Sometimes effect is given to a sentence, by suspending the 
 meaning a little. Thus, in Pope's preface to Homer, we
 
 STRUCTURE OF SENTENCES. 119 
 
 have the following sentence, which is illustrative of the posi- 
 tion : " On whatever side we contemplate Homer, what 
 principally strikes us is, his wonderful invention." 
 
 By some English writers, inversion is practised with success; 
 but, in general, those who have had frequent recourse to it, 
 have become harsh and obscure. By inversion. Lord Shaftes- 
 bury's style is characterized for strength, dignity, and varied 
 harmony ; but Mr. Addison's sentences are constructed in * 
 quite different manner ; he always proceeds in the most na- 
 tural and obvious order of language, and if, according to the 
 observation of Dr. Blair, by this means he has less pomp and 
 majesty than Lord Shaftesbury, he has more nature, more ease 
 and simplicity which are beauties of a higher order. " But," 
 says our author, " whether we practise inversion or not, and 
 in whatever part of the sentence we dispose of the capital 
 words, it is always a point of great moment, that these capital 
 words shall stand clear and disentangled from any other words 
 that would clog them. Thus, when there are any circum- 
 stances of time, place, or other limitations, which the principal 
 object of our sentence requires to have connected with it, we 
 must take special care to dispose of them so as not to cloud 
 that principal object, nor to bury it under a load of circum- 
 stances. This will be made clearer by an example. Observe 
 the arrangement of the following sentence, in Lord Shaftes- 
 bury's Advice to an Author. He is speaking of modern poets 
 as compared with the ancient : " If, )js?hile they profess only 
 to please, they secretly advise, and give instruction, they may, 
 now, perhaps, as well as formerly, be esteemed, with justice, 
 the best and most honourable among authors." This is a well 
 constructed sentence. It contains a great many circumstances 
 and adverbs, necessary to qualify the meaning ; only, secretly, 
 as well, perhaps, now, with Justice, formerly ; yet these are 
 placed with so much art, as neither to embarrass nor weaken 
 the sentence ; while that which is the capital object in it, viz. 
 " Poets being justly esteemed the best and most honourable
 
 yg BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 among authors," comes out in the conchision clear and de- 
 tached, and possesses its proper place. 
 
 4. The next rule to be attended to in the construction of 
 sentences is, to make the members of them go on rising and 
 growing in their importance one above another. This is called 
 a climax, such as that of Cicero, addressed to Catiline : 
 '' Nihil agis, nihil moliris, nihil cogitas, quod ego non audiam, 
 quod ctiam non videam, planeque sentiaui." 
 
 Tlie following is an instance taken from Lord Bolingbroke : 
 " This decency, this grace, this propriety of manners to cha- 
 racter, is so essential to princes in particular, that, whenever 
 it is neglected, their virtues lose a great degree of lustre, and 
 their detects acquire much aggravation." Quiutiliau directs, 
 that a weaker expression should never follow one of more 
 strength, as if, after sacrilege, we were to introduce simple 
 theft. 
 
 A climax has been defined, a figure, in which ihe word or 
 expression that ends the first member of a period begins the 
 second, and so on ; so that every member will make a distinct 
 sentence, taking its rise from the preceding, (ill the period be 
 finished, as in the following gradation of Tillotson : " After 
 we have practised good actions awhile, they become easy ; 
 and when they are easy, we begin to take pleasure in them ; 
 and when they please us, we do them frequently ; and by the 
 frequency of acts, a thing grows into a habit ; and confirmed 
 habit is second nature ; and so far as any thing is natural, so 
 far it is necessary, and we can hardly do otherwise ; nay, we 
 do it many times, when we do not think of it !" 
 
 .5, The fifth rule for the strength of sentences is, to avoid 
 concluding them with an adverb, preposition, or any other in- 
 considerable word. Agreeably to this rule, we should avoid 
 concluding with any of those particles which mark the cases 
 of nouns. For, besides the want of dignity n\ hich arises from 
 those monosyllables being placed at the close, the mind cannot 
 avoid restii^ a little upon the word that concludes the sen-
 
 STRUCTURE OF SENTENCES. 121 
 
 tence ; and as these prepositions have no import of their own, 
 but merely serve to point out the relation of other words, it is 
 disagreeable thus to be left pausing on a word, which of itself 
 cannot produce any idea, or present any picture to the fancy. 
 
 The pronoun it ought not to close a sentence ; and nothing 
 can be well worse, than to allow this same word it to conclude 
 two successive periods ; yet we find examples of the kind 
 occur, occasionally, in our first-rate writers. Thus Mr. Burke: 
 " In like manner, if a person in broad day-light were falling 
 asleep, to introduce a sudden darkness, would prevent his sleep 
 for that time, though silence and darkness in themselves, and 
 not suddenly introduced, are very favourable to it. This I 
 knew only by conjecture on the analogy of the senses, when I 
 first digested these observations; but 1 have since expe- 
 rienced it." 
 
 6. In the members of a sentence, where two objects are 
 either compared or contrasted, some resemblance in the lan- 
 guage and construction should be preserved. We are disap- 
 pointed when it is otherwise ; and the comparison, or contrast, 
 appears more imperfect. 
 
 " The wise man is happy, when he gains his own approba- 
 tion ; the fool, when he recommends himself to the applause 
 of those about him." Spectator. The sentence would read 
 much better, " The wise man is happy, w hen he gains his own 
 approbation ; the fool, when he gains that of others." 
 
 After all," says Dr. Blair, " The fundamental rule of the 
 construction of sentences, and into which all others might 
 be resolved, undoubtedly is,, to communicate in the clearest 
 and most natural order, the ideas which we mean to transfuse 
 into the minds of others. Every arrangement that does most 
 justice to the sense, and expresses it to most advantage, strikes 
 us as beautiful. To this point have tended all the rules I have 
 given. And, indeed, did men always think clearly, and were 
 they, at the same time, fully masters of the language in which 
 they write, there would be occasion for few rules. Their sen- 
 tences would then, of course, acquire all those properties of
 
 122 BELLES LETT RES. 
 
 Precision, Unity, and Strength, which I have recommended. 
 For we may rest assured, that whenever we express ourselves 
 ill, there is, besides the mismanagement of language, for the 
 most part, some mistake in our manner of conceiving the sub- 
 ject. Embarrassed, obscure, and feeble sentences are gene- 
 rally, if not always, the result of embarrassed, obscure, and 
 feeble thought.. Thought and language act and re-act upon 
 each other mutually. Logic and rhetoric have here, as in 
 many other cases, a strict connexion ; and he that is learning 
 to arrange his sentences with accuracy and order, is learning, 
 at tlie same time, to think with accuracy and order."
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 ON THE STRUCTURE OF SENTENCES, % 
 
 Continued. 
 
 The Harmony of a sentence depends on the choice and arrangement of the 
 words Ancient languages more susceptible of music than the modern 
 The current of sound to be adapted to the tenor of the discourse 
 Sounds may be employed to represent otljer sounds Motion The pas- 
 sions of the mind. 
 
 A LTHOUGH sound is a quality of much less importance 
 than sense, yet it must not be entirely neglected by those 
 who would draw attention to themselves, either as speakers 
 or writers ; inasmuch as there is always a connexion between 
 the idea which is conveyed, and the sound by which it is con- 
 veyed. It was a maxim of Quintilian, that nothing could 
 enter the affections which stumbles at the threshold, by offend- 
 ing the ear. Music, naturally, has a great power over men, ia 
 facilitating certain emotions, so that there are hardly any dis- 
 positions that persons, conversant with the human mind, wish 
 to excite in others, but that they can find certain sounds tend- 
 ing to produce or promote them. Language may, in a less 
 or greater degree, be rendered capable of this power of music, 
 a circumstance that cannot fail to heighten our idea of it 
 as a very wonderful invention. It is not only capable of 
 simply interpreting our ideas to others, but of exciting 
 in them those ideas, enforced by corresponding soimds;
 
 124 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 and to the pleasure of communicating thought, it can add the 
 new and separate pleasure of melody. 
 
 The musical caileuce of a sentence will depend upon the 
 choice of words; and the arrangement of them. Those 
 words will be most agreeable to the ear, which are composed 
 of smooth and liquid sounds, and in which there is a proper 
 interniixture of vowels and consonants, without too many 
 harsh consonants clashing with each other, or too many open 
 vowels in succession, to cause a disagreeable aperture of the 
 mouth. Whatever sounds are difficult in pronunciation, are 
 in the same proportion, harsh and painful to the ear. Vowels 
 add softness ; consonants, strength to the sound of words : the 
 melody of language requires a just proportion of each, and 
 will be rendered either grating or effeminate by an excess. 
 Long words are commonly more agreeable to the ear than 
 monosyllables ; and among words of any length, those are 
 most musical, which do not run wholly either upon long or 
 short syllables, but are composed of an intermixture of both. 
 
 With respect to the harmony which results from a proper 
 arrangement of the words and members of a sentence, it may 
 be observed, that, however well chosen the words them- 
 selves may be, yet if they be ill-disposed, the music of the 
 sentence is utterly destroyed. In the harmonious arrangement 
 of hb periods, no writer, ancient or modern, can be compared 
 with Cicero. Instances in proof of this might be selected 
 firom almost every page of his works. " In English," says Dr. 
 Blair, " we may take as an instance of a musical sentence, 
 &e following from Milton, in his Treatise on Educatiou: 
 ' We shall conduct you to a hill-side, laborious, indeed, at the 
 first ascent ; but else, so smooth, so green, so full of goodly 
 prospects, and melodious sounds on every side, that the harp 
 of Orpheus was not more charming.' Every tiling in this 
 sentence conspires to produce the harmony. The words are 
 happily chosen ; full of liquids and soft sounds : laborious, 
 smooth, green, goodly, melodious, charming : and these words 
 80 artfully arranged, that, were we to alter the collocation of
 
 STRUCTURE OF SENTENCES. 125 
 
 any oue of them, we should presently be sensible of the me- 
 lody suflfering. For, let us observe how finely the members 
 of the period swell one above another. * So smooth, so green, 
 so full of goodly prospects, and melodious sounds on every 
 side,' till the ear, prepared by this gradual rise, is conducted 
 to that full close on which it rests with pleasure ; * that the 
 harp of Orpheus was not more charming/ " 
 
 The structure of periods being susceptible of a very sensible 
 melody, the next inquiry is, how the melodious structure is 
 formed, what are the principles of it, and by what laws it is 
 regulated. In this, we cannot, owing to the nature of our 
 language, and other circumstances, follow the ancients. They, 
 in treating upon the structure of sentences, always make the 
 music of them the principal object. The other qualities of 
 precision, unity, and strength, which we consider as of chief 
 importance, they touch on but slightly. Dionysius of Hali- 
 carnassus, in his treatise on the " Composition of words in a 
 sentence," refers only to their musical effect. He makes the 
 excellency of a sentence to consist hi the sweetness of single 
 sounds : in the composition of sounds, that is, the numbers 
 or feet : in change or variety of sound ;^ and in sound suited 
 to sense. 
 
 Among the moderns, the subject of the musical structure of 
 discourse has been less studied, and for the following reasons 
 can be less subjected to rule. 
 
 1. The ancient languages were more susceptible than ours 
 of the powers of melody. The quantities of their syllables 
 were more fixed and determined, their words were longer, 
 and more sonorous ; their method of varying the terminations 
 of nouns and verbs, freed them from that multiplicity of little 
 auxiliary words, which we are obliged to employ ; and what 
 is of still more importance, the inversions which their lan- 
 guages allowed, gave them the power of placing their words 
 in whatever order was most suited to a musical arrangement. 
 
 2. The Greeks and Romans were much more musical na- 
 tions than we are, which is a reason of their paying more at-
 
 126 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 teiition to that construction of sentences, which might best 
 suit their pronunciation. And 
 
 3. The musical arrangement of sentences did produce a 
 greater effect in public speaking among them, than it would 
 among us. But though this musical arrangement cannot be 
 reduced into a system, yet it is a quality that ought not to be 
 neglected in composition. There are two things on which 
 the music of a sentence chiefly depends. These are, the pro- 
 per distribution of the several members of it, and the close or 
 cadence of the whole. 
 
 In the distribution of the several members of a sentence, it 
 ^ is of importance to observe, that, whatever is easy and agree- 
 able to the organs of speech, always sounds grateful to the 
 far. While a period is going on, the termination of each of 
 its members forms a rest or pause in the pronouncing, and 
 these pauses should be so distributed, as to make the breath- 
 ing easy, and at the same time should fall at such distances as 
 to bear a certain musical proportion to each other : but the 
 rests should not be too numerous, or placed at intervals too 
 measured and regular, lest the style savour of affectation. 
 
 The following sentence, from Sir William Temple, has 
 been given by writers on the subject, to exemplify this rule ; 
 he is speaking of man in an ironical style, " But, God be 
 thanked, his pride is greater than his ignorance ; and what he 
 wants in knowledge, he supplies by sufficiency. When he has 
 looked about him, as far as he can, he concludes, there is no 
 more to be seen ; when he is at the end of his line, he is at 
 the bottom of the ocean ; when he has shot his best, he is 
 sure none ever did, or ever can, shoot better, or beyond it. 
 His own reason he holds to be the certain measure of truth ; 
 and his own knowledge, of what is possible in nature." Here 
 every thing is, at once, easy to the breath, and grateful to 
 the ear ; and it is this sort of flowing measure which renders 
 the style of Sir William Temple always agreeable. 
 
 The close or cadence of the whole sentence demands the 
 greatest care, because on this the mind pauses and rests. Here, 
 
 i
 
 STRUCTURE OF SENTENCES. 12? 
 
 every hearer and reader expects to be gratified : here, his ap- 
 plause breaks forth. The rule to be observed is, that when 
 we aim at dignity or elevation, the sound should be made to 
 grow to the last ; the longest member of the period, and the 
 fullest and most sonorous words, should be reserved to the 
 conclusion. The following sentence from Mr. Addison is 
 constructed upon this rule: 
 
 '* It fills the mind with the largest variety of ideas, con- 
 verses with its objects at the greatest distance, and continues 
 the longest in action, without being tired or satiated with its 
 proper enjoyments." " Every reader," says Dr. Blair, " must 
 be sensible of a beauty here, both in the proper division of 
 the members and the pauses, and the manner in which the 
 sentence is rounded, and conducted to a full and harmonious 
 close." 
 
 The same- holds in melody, that takes place with respect to 
 significancy, a falling off is always unpleasant, and offends 
 the ear. Hence particles, pronouns, and little words are un- 
 gracious to the ear, and it is probable, that the sense and the 
 sound have, in this respect a mutual influence on each other. 
 That which hurts the ear, seems to mar the strength of the 
 meaning. In general, a musical close, in our language, re- 
 quires either the last syllable, or the last but one, to 
 be a long syllable. But it should be observed, that sen- 
 tences so constructed as to make the sound always swell 
 and grow towards the end, give the discourse a tone of decla- 
 mation, which soon becomes unpleasant to the ear. The 
 measures should be frequently varied, and short sentences 
 should be intermixed with long and swelling ones, to render 
 discourse agreeable and impressive. 
 
 Thougb the music of sentences demands a very considerable 
 degree of attention, yet it must be kept within bounds : there 
 must be no affectation of harmony, especially if the love of it 
 betray a person to sacrifice perspicuity, precision, or strength 
 of sentiment to sound. All unmeaning words, introduced
 
 128 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 merely to round a period, or complete the melody, are con- 
 siderable blemishes in writing. 
 
 It now remains to treat of the sound as adapted to the 
 sense: which admits of two distinct considerations : 
 
 1. The current of sound may be adapted to the tenor of a 
 discourse, in every language that admits of poetry ; and the 
 characteristic is found in every author, whose fancy enables 
 him to impress images strongly on his own mind, and whose 
 choice of language readily supplies him with just representa- 
 tions. On many occasions, we produce the music which we 
 imagine ourselves to hear. In common life, it is not easy to 
 deliver a pleasing message, in an unpleasing manner, and we 
 readily associate beauty and deformity with those whom we 
 have reason to love or hate. Hence no one tenor, supposing 
 it to produce no bad effect from satiety, will answer to all 
 sorts of compositions ; nor even to all parts of the same com- 
 position. The same language cannot be used in writing a 
 panegyric and an invective. In the common translation of 
 tlie Bible, there is a multitude of instances, in which the lan- 
 guage has been happily adapted to the subject. The very first 
 verses in the book of Genesis, have been quoted as a good 
 illustration of the rule : 
 
 " In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth ; 
 and the earth was without form, and void, and darkness was 
 upon the face of the deep ; and the spirit of God moved upon 
 the face of the waters." 
 
 2. Besides the general correspondence of the current of 
 sound with the current of thought, there may be a more par- 
 ticular expression attempted of certain objects, by means of 
 resembling sounds. Tlie accomplishment of this is not often 
 possible in prose compositions ; but in poetry, where the in- 
 versions and liberties of style, give a greater command of 
 sound, it is naturally looked for. 
 
 The sounds of words may be employed for representing 
 three classes of objects, viz. other souuds ; motion j and the 
 passions of the mind.
 
 STRUCTURE OF SENTENCES. ^^ 129 
 
 In tlie common structure of language, the names of many 
 particular sounds are so formed, as to carry some affinity to 
 the sound which they signify : thus, as we have already observed, 
 we speak of the whistling and roaring of the wind : of the 
 hissing of serpents : of the buzz and hum of insects : of the 
 rustling of trees and thickets : of the crash attending upon 
 the fall of buildings. The following passages from Milton 
 may be given as examples of this kind of beauty; they are 
 descriptive of the sound made, in the one, by the opening 
 of the gates of Hell; in the other, by the opening of those of 
 
 Heaven : 
 
 On a sudden, open fly 
 
 With impetuous recoil, and jarring sound, 
 
 Th' infernal doors ; and on their hinges grate 
 
 Harsh tiiunder. Paradm Lost, Book I. 
 
 Heaven opened wide 
 
 Her ever din^g gates, harmonious sound ! 
 
 On golden hinges turning. Book II. 
 
 The motion of an arrow, and the sound of a bow, are ex- 
 cellently described by Pope in the following lines : 
 
 The impetuous arrow whizzes on the wing. 
 
 -The string let fly, 
 
 Twanged short and sharp, like the shrill swallow's cry. 
 
 To these, another example may be added from the same 
 author : 
 
 Loud sounds the axe, redoubling strokes on strokes, 
 On all sides round the forest hurls her oaks 
 Headlong. Deep echoing, groan the thickets brown, 
 Then rustling, a ackling, craving, thunder down. 
 
 2. Another class of objects, which the sound of words is 
 often employed to imitate, is motion, as it is swift or slow, 
 violent or gentle, equable or interrupied, easy or accompanied 
 with effort. 
 
 Long syllables naturally give the impression of slow motion : 
 but swift motion is imitated by a succession of short syllables. 
 
 YOL. I. K
 
 130 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 Tiie desft-iptiou of a sudden calm on tlie seas, in Dyer's 
 Fleece, can scarcely be exceeded : 
 
 -with easy course 
 
 The vessels glide ; tmless their speed be stopped 
 By dead calms, that oft lie on these smooth seas, 
 When every zephyr sleeps ; then the shrouds drop ; 
 '1 he downy feather, on the cordage hung, 
 Moves not ; the flat sea sliines like yellow gold 
 Fus'd in the fire ; or like the marble floor 
 Of some old temple wide, 
 
 A line composed of monosyllables, by the frequency of its 
 pauses, makes an impression similar to what is made by la- 
 borious interrupted mption. The following are examples : 
 
 First march tlie heavy males, secnrcly slow : 
 
 O'er hills, o'er dales, o'er crags, o'er rocks they go. Pope. 
 
 With many a weary step, and many a groan, 
 
 Up the high hill, he heaves a huge round stone. Broome. 
 
 Slow and prolonged motion is well expressed by an Alex- 
 andrine verse : 
 
 A needless Alexandrine ends the song. 
 
 That, like a wounded snake, drags its slow length along. Pope. 
 
 From the same author, we select an example of forcible and 
 prolonged motion : 
 
 The waves behind impel the waves before, 
 Wide-rolling, foaming high, and tumbling on the shore. 
 
 S. In the third set of objects, the sounds of words are capa- 
 .ble of representing the passions and emotions of the mind . 
 . ^Jjus we have sorrow and complarat finely expressed in the^ -^^ 
 pathetic soliloquy of Cardinal Wolsey on his fall : 
 
 Farewell ! a long farewell ! to all my greatness ! 
 Tltis is the state of man ! to day he puts forth 
 The tender leaves of hope ; to morrow, blossoms, 
 . , And bears his blDkhiHi; honours thick upon him ; 

 
 STRUCTURE OF SENTENCES. 131 
 
 The tbird day comes a frost, a killiug frost 1 
 And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely 
 His greatness is a ripening, nips his root, 
 And then he falls, as I do. 
 
 Another fine example of this kind is in the part of Andro- 
 mache, in the Distressed Mother : 
 
 I'll go, and, in the anguish of my heart, 
 
 Weep o'er my child. If he must die, my life 
 
 Is wrapt in his^ I shall not long survive. 
 
 Fear expresses itself in a low, hesitating, and abject sound. 
 
 The speech of Lady Macbeth, while her husband is about to 
 
 murder Duncan, and his groans, exhibit her affrighted even 
 
 with the sound of her own voice : 
 
 Alas ! I am afraid they have awak'd 
 And 'tis not done ; th* attempt, and not the deed 
 Confounds us Hark ! I laid the daggers ready, 
 He could not miss them. Had he not resembled 
 My father as he slept, I had done it. 
 
 Melancholy and gloomy subjects naturally express them- 
 selves in slow measures and long words : 
 
 In those deep solitudes and awful cells, * 
 
 Where heavenly pensive Contemplation dwells, 
 
 And ever musing Melancholy reigns. Pope. 
 
 Courage assumes a different tone : 
 
 Here satiate all your fury : 
 Let Fortune empty her whole quiver on me, 
 I have a soul that, like an ample shield, 
 Can take in all, and verge enough for more. 
 
 Pleasure is displayed in a luxurious, mild, tender, and joyous 
 modulation ; as in the following lines : 
 
 Lavinia! O there's music in the name. 
 That, soft 'ning me to infant tenderness. 
 Makes my heart spring like the first leaps of life. 
 
 From these instances, and a great number of others, equally 
 striking, might have been produced, we have shewn, that in 
 
 K 2
 
 132 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 good writing, an attention must be paid to the harmony of 
 sentences ; or, as it is described by the poet : 
 
 Tis not enough, no barshneBs pves offence 
 
 The sound innst8eem an echo to the sense. 
 
 Soft is the strain when Zepliyr gently blows, 
 
 And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows ; 
 
 But, when lond surges lash the sounding shore, 
 
 Tlie hoarse ronzh verse should like the torrent roar. 
 
 When Ajax st lives some rork's vast w4ght to throw. 
 
 The line too labours, and the words move slow ; 
 
 Not sn, when swift Camilla scours the plain, 
 
 Flies o'er tb' unbending corn, and skims along the main. 
 
 ''-'"
 
 CHAP VIII. 
 
 TASTE. 
 
 w 
 
 Ornamental writing Taste, origin of How improved Characters of 
 Qualities necessary to a good writer, illustrated with respect to narration 
 in argumentative discourse, and in historical composition more at* 
 tention to be paid to thoughts than words. 
 
 Another part of the Belles Lettres comprehends 
 whatever is ornamental in a discourse or composition. The 
 bare materials, and even the disposition of them in a dis- 
 course, are adapted to do little more than make an impression 
 upon those persons, who, of themselves, either from a regard 
 to the nature of the subject, or from its importance, will give 
 their attention to it, but when the composition is ornamented, 
 it is then calculated to attract and engage the attention, by the 
 grace and harmony of the style, the turn of thought, or the 
 striking or pleasing manner in which the sentiments are in- 
 troduced and expressed. In considering the nature of gram- 
 mar, and the arrangement and structure of sentences, we have 
 only, as it has been expressed, examined what njay be called 
 the bones, muscles, and nerves of a conipo!>itioii ; but now, 
 to carry on the figure, we come to the covering of this body, 
 to describe its external lineaments, its colour, its complexion, 
 and graceful attitude. 
 
 Whatever contributes to adorn a discourse, must either give
 
 134 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 life and beauty to sentiment, or harmony to the diction. By 
 ornament of thoughts, is meant that manner of introducing 
 and presenting them to the mind, which will give them the 
 most favourable appearance. This, therefore, comprehends 
 all the pleasures which may be said to be perceived by the 
 mind ; whereas, in treating of the ornaments of diction, lan- 
 guage may be considered as affecting the ear only. Whatever 
 it be, in the sentiment or ideas, that causes a discourse to be 
 read with pleasure, must either be interesting, by exciting the 
 passions, or must awaken those more delicate sensations, 
 which are usually denominated the pleasures of the imagi- 
 nation. An exquisite feeling of the latter, may be said to 
 constitute a fine taste, but no person can be a complete judge 
 of the merit of a composition, unless he perfectly understand 
 the subject of it, so as both clearly to distinguish the charac- 
 ter of the design, and also to judge how far the execution is 
 adapted to the undertaking. 
 
 Taste has been defined, " The power of receiving pleasure 
 from the beauties of nature and art." It cannot, therefore, 
 be resolvable into any operation of the mere rational faculties, 
 because it is not by the discovery of the understanding, or by a 
 deduction of argument, that the mind receives pleasure from a 
 beautiful prospect or a fine poem : these often afford the same 
 sort of pleasure to the philosopher and the peasant, the child 
 and the man. The faculty, therefore, by which we relish 
 such beauties, appears more nearly allied to the feeling of 
 sense, than to the process of the understanding; but there 
 is no doubt it may be improved in its operations by reason. 
 
 Judgment is universally admitted to be altogether acquired, 
 and that Taste, too, or the capacity of perceiving the plea- 
 sures of the imagination, may be acquired to a great degree, 
 is evident, from the actual acquirement of a variety of similar 
 tastes, even late in life. Instances of this kind may be given 
 in tastes for flowers, for gardening, and for architecture, 
 which are hardly ever possessed at very early periods. It is 
 scarcely possible, that any person who never attempted to
 
 TASTE. 135 
 
 sketch out an object himself, should have a high relish for the 
 beauties of painting ; but let him be instructed in the art of 
 drawing and designing ; let him be employed in viewing and 
 examining a great variety of pictures, let him associate with 
 painters and connoisseurs in the fine arts, and he would, no 
 doubt, not only acquire judgment in the productions of that 
 art, and be able to distinguish a fine design and execution, 
 but that he would have a relish for it ; that what he approved, 
 he would admire, and that the view of it would affect him 
 with sensible pleasure. The same may be said of music, 
 poetry and the other branches of the fine arts. 
 
 It may also be assumed, that all the principles of taste in 
 works of genius, the sources from whence these pleasures are 
 derived, are within the reach of all persons, and that there is 
 hardly an individual who passes much of his time in cultivated 
 society, where the fine arts flourish, without acquiring, in a 
 greater or less degree, a taste for some or other of them. ^^ 
 
 The inequality of Taste among men, similarly situated, is 
 owing, without doubt, to the different frame of their natures ; 
 to more delicate organs and finer internal powers, with which 
 some are endowed beyond others. But since all emotions, 
 excited by works of genius, consist of such ideas and sensa- 
 tions, as are capable of being associated with the perception 
 of such works, nothing can be requisite to the acquisition of 
 Taste, but exposing the mind to a situation in which those 
 associated ideas will be frequently presented to it. Taste then 
 may be considered as an improvable faculty, which is still 
 farther evident, if we reflect on that immense superiority which 
 education and improvement give to civilized, above barbarous 
 nations, in refinement of Taste. " The difference is so 
 great," says Dr. Blair, " that there is perhaps no one parti- 
 cular, in which these two classes of men are so far removed 
 from each other, as in respect of the powers and pleasures of 
 Taste : and assuredly for this difference, no other general 
 cause can be assigned, but culture and education." 
 
 Exercise, indeed, is the chief source of improvement in all
 
 136 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 our faculties. This holds both in our bodily and mental 
 powers, and even in our external senses. How acute do the 
 senses of those persons become, whose occupation leads them 
 to nice exertions! Touch, for instance, becomes infinitely 
 more exquisite in men whose employment requires them to 
 examine the polish of bodies, than it is in others. Those who 
 accustom themselves to microscopical observations, acquire a 
 vast accuracy of sight in discerning the minutest objects. 
 Practice in attending to different flavours and tastes in teas, 
 spirituous liquors, &c. increases the power of distinguishing 
 them, and of tracing their component parts. '' Placing inter- 
 nal taste, therefore, on the footing of a simple sense, it cannot 
 be doubted, that frequent exercise and curious attention to its 
 proper objects, must greatly heighten its power. Of this we 
 have clear proof in that part of Taste which is called an ear 
 for Music. At first, only the simplest and plainest composi- 
 tions are relished ; use and practice extend our pleasure ; teach 
 us to relish finer melody, and by degrees enable us to enter 
 into the intricate and compounded pleasures of harmony. So 
 an eye for the beauties of painting is never all at once acquired ; 
 it is gradually formed by being conversant with pictures, and 
 studying the works of the best masters. In the same manner, 
 with respect to the beauty of composition and discourse, at- 
 tention to the most approved models, study of the best authors, 
 comparisons of lower and higher degrees of the same beauties, 
 operate towards the refinement of Taste. When a person is 
 only beginning his acquaintance with works of genius, the sen- 
 timents which attend them is obscure and confused. He can, 
 perhaps, only tell whether he is or is not pleased, without as- 
 signing reasons for his decision. But allow him experience in 
 works of this kind, and his Taste becomes by degrees more 
 exact and enlightened. He now not only understands the cha- 
 racter of the whole, but perceives the beauties and defects of 
 each part, and is able to describe the qualities that afford 
 pleasure or dissatisfaction. " The mist is dissipated which 
 eemed formerly to hang over the object ; and he can at length
 
 TASTE. 137 
 
 pronounce firmly, and without hesitation, concerning it. Thus 
 in matters of Taste, as mere sensibihty, exercise opens a great 
 source of improvement." But if Taste be founded on sensi 
 biHty, Reason and good sense have a most extensive influence 
 on the operations and decisions of Taste ; so that it may be 
 considered as a power compounded of natural sensibility and 
 improved understanduig. It may be farther observed, that 
 from the frequent exercise of Taste, and from the application 
 of good sense and reason to the objects of Taste, it, as a 
 power of the mind, receives its improvement, in its perfect 
 state, it is unquestionably the result both of nature and of 
 art. It supposes our natural sense of beauty to be refined by 
 frequent attention to the most beautiful objects, and at the 
 same time to be guided and improved by the light of the un- 
 derstanding. 
 
 Dr. Blair assumes, that not only a sound head, but a good 
 heart, is requisite to just Taste. The characters of Taste, 
 he says, when brought to its most improved state, are reduci- 
 ble to Delicacy and Correctness. The former respects prin- 
 cipally the perfection of that natural sensibility on which Taste 
 is founded ; and it implies those finer organs or powers which 
 enable us to discover beauties that lie hidden from a vulgar 
 eye. The latter respects the improvement which that faculty 
 receives through its connexion with the understanding. " A 
 man of correct Taste is one who is never imposed upon by 
 counterfeit beauties; who carries always in his mind that 
 standard of good sense, which he employs in judging of every 
 thing. He estimates with propriety the comparative merit of 
 the several beauties which he meets with in any work of genius; 
 refers them to their proper classes, assigns the principles, as 
 far as they can be traced, whence their power of pleasing 
 flows, and is pleased himself precisely in that degree in which 
 he ought, and no more." 
 
 " Attempts," says Dr. Aikin, " have been often made 
 in the walks both of literature and the fine arts, to esta- 
 blish such a criterion^ and to reduce to precise rules^ the de-
 
 138 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 terminations of what is called taste ; but the wide differences 
 still subsisting among those who lay claim to this quality, 
 sufficiently prove the ill success of these efforts." Ilie diver- 
 sities of original conformation, and early associations, must 
 ever prevent mankind from feeling exactly alike, with respect 
 to the objects presented to them. Hence the difference of 
 opinion respecting the authors who have chiefly excelled in 
 the style of their writings. Our object is not so much the 
 comparison of the w orks of others, as to lay down such gene- 
 ral rules, as may assist young persons, as well in judging of 
 the merits of the compositions of their countrymen, as to ena- 
 ble them also to excel in the same career. 
 
 The most obvious purpose of w riting, is to communicate 
 with force and precision the ideas of the writer to the reader. 
 To write ^ well then, a person must study to acquire a clear 
 idea of the subject on which he writes. For, unless he per- 
 fectly understand it, he can never expect to make another 
 comprehend it. He is to reflect upon all parts of the subject, 
 and when he has attained a clear view of it, the words will 
 come of course. But it must be admitted, that this supposes 
 in the writer, a perfect knowledge of the value and import of 
 all the words which he uses, as well singly, as in combination. 
 It supposes him master of the art of combining clauses and 
 sentences, according to the rules already laid down, and also in 
 such a way as to exhibit the dependence of ideas one upon 
 another, and the train or succession in which the process of 
 argumentation consists. It requires him to have, at his call, a 
 sufficient store of expressions, and yet to be possessed of judg- 
 ment suflicient to prevent him from running into prolixity. 
 He should know how and zehen he can dwell upon an idea 
 with advantage, and when to stop. To attain this, he must ha- 
 bituate himself to composition, for no rules, however excellent 
 or well attended to, w ill form a correct and fluent writer with- 
 out that sort of exercise which induces habit. For this pur- 
 pose, it is not necessary to compose much, but to write J're- 
 quentfi/, and with great care. Fast writing is apt to produce
 
 TASTE. 139 
 
 a faulty style, not easily cured, but to compose frequently, and 
 to subject the composition to strict and rigid revisions, will do 
 more to the attainment of perfection than any rules which can 
 be suggested. 
 
 Many of the qualities of good writing, depend on the pow- 
 ers of conception in the mind whence the ideas proceed, and 
 to know how we have succeeded, we must frequently compare 
 what we have written, with what we intended to write, and in- 
 quire what effect it is likely to produce on the minds of 
 others, by reflecting upon the impression which such sort of 
 writing, would, under different circumstances, have excited in 
 ourselves. 
 
 In some cases there is not the smallest difficulty in pro- 
 nouncing concerning the success of our efforts. The enunci- 
 ation of a truth, and the statement of a plain argument, are 
 complete with respect to conception and expression, when all 
 that is wanted, and no more, is communicated to the reader, in 
 its most precise and intelligible form. Clear notions, in sub- 
 jects of this kind, readily clothe themselves in proper lan- 
 guage ; and he must be a very fastidious, and unreasonable 
 person, who, while he receives the whole instruction he seeks 
 for, should express a want of any thing more perfect. De- 
 monstrations in mathematics and natural philosophy are of 
 this kind, and in these, if the writer be methodical, clear, and 
 as concise as the nature of the subject will admit of, he has 
 done all that can be required of him. 
 
 The narration of a matter of fact is not quite so simple : 
 circumstances strike different persons so differently, that 
 scarcely any two will be found to agree in their account of the 
 same transaction. There seems to be a propensity in man to 
 alter and exaggerate, besides, if the transaction be at all com- 
 plicate, or combine a variety of particulars, the selection of 
 incidents must vary in different people who give, an account of 
 it. Some dwell upon circumstances important, which to 
 others are wholly neglected as frivolous, or at least uninterest- 
 ing. Some, in recording a fact, assign to each actor his own
 
 140 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 peculiar language, others relate the whole in their own words. 
 " In general," says the author already quoted, " he is the 
 most perfect narrator, who puts his reader most completely in 
 the state of the spectator ; who transports him to the very 
 spot, marks out to him all the personages by their characteris- 
 tic features, and fills the scene with manners and action. 
 For success in such an attempt, nothing is so necessary as an 
 imagination capable of receiving and retaining strong impres- 
 sions." Where this exists, and the subject to be described be 
 an interesting one, no artifice of language is wanted to pro 
 duce a complete tfftct. The history of Joseph and his bre- 
 thren in the book of Genesis, is written without the least art or 
 effort, yet a more affecting one is not to be met with, and 
 every attempt to embellish it by art and ornament has failed 
 to produce an equal degree of interest. All that seems requi- 
 site in this kind of writing is, that the narrator should abstain 
 from affected phraseology, unseasonable digressions, and im- 
 pertinent remarks and observations. 
 
 The next in order of simplicity, is argumentative discourse. 
 In this, great precision in the use of words, and a clear ar- 
 rangement of the members of a sentence, are absolutely neces- 
 sary. To these must be added closeness of method, strength 
 and conciseness of expression, but free from obscurity, and 
 grace and amenity of language : by these, the effect of convic- 
 tion may be promoted by leading on the reader pleasantly 
 through a subject which may, perhaps, be naturally dry and 
 unalluring. Cicero and Hume have been cited as examples 
 of this union of the agreeable, with discussions purely philo- 
 sophical ; and, if the manner of Cicero, in his argumentative 
 works, be compared with that of his popular pieces and his 
 orations, a good idea may be formed of the progress, from an 
 address to the reason alone, to au attempt to persuade by ad- 
 dressing the affections. 
 
 Tlie perfection of historical composition demands a still 
 greater assemblage of literary qualifications. The historian 
 must be able to give a lucid arrangement and skilful develppe-
 
 TASTE. 141 
 
 inent of facts, often involved and perplexed with contradic- 
 tions. He should have sagacity to trace the connexion of 
 causes and effects, and penetration to detect the motives and 
 true characters of men, however disguised by artifice ; to these 
 should be added a philosophical spirit, and freedom from pre- 
 judice, which entitle him to assume the office of an instructor. 
 If he be possessed of these requisites, the historian may be al- 
 lowed considerable latitude in his style, and may enrich his 
 language with every figure that can give it force or beauty. 
 
 Of the nature of figurat've language we shall shortly treat, 
 but it may be observed here, that a writer of real taste will 
 never be anxious to embellish his composiiisjiis in this way : 
 he .will never study to find out comparisons or metaphors for 
 the mere purpose of adorning his discourse. Figurati\e lan- 
 guage, when good, and properly applied, comes spontaneously 
 from a lively imagination, or from a mind well stored by the 
 perusal of the best authors. To profit as much as possible in 
 reading works of taste, we should mark every thing peculiar 
 in their manners, so as to know how, afterwards, either to 
 adopt or avoid it. i\t the same time, every thing like a servile 
 imitation of others mu!t be carefully avoided. 
 
 We must adapt the si) le to the subject ; for nothing can be 
 more ridiculous than to clothe grave subjects in a gaudy dress ; 
 or to attempt embellishing dry reasoning, which must convince 
 only by strength of argimient. 
 
 After all, more attention must be paid to our thoughts or 
 conceptions than to our words : these should be consonant to 
 nature, clearly conceived, agreeably diversified, regularly con- 
 nected, and adapted to some good end. 
 
 Conformity to nature is essential to good writing, without 
 which, whatever other excellence it may possess, it cannot ob- 
 tain the approbation of good sense. An author may rise 
 above the usual appearances of nature, by combining things 
 which are not commonly associated, but he must not admit 
 any thing that contradicts common sense and experience. 
 The conception must be perfect and distinct : this is the basis
 
 142 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 of perspicuity. He who does not himself clearly understand 
 his own meaniug, can have no right to expect that his reader 
 \vilJ. We must accustom ourselves to separateour ideas from 
 one another before we attempt to clothe them in language. 
 Variety of conception must be added to perspicuity. " It is 
 this which raises a writer of true genius above one of moderate 
 abilities. The field of nature lies open to all men, but it is 
 only the man whose powers are vigorous and commanding, 
 that can combine ideas with the diversity which is necessary 
 to produce a strong impression upon the imagination. To 
 discern, not only the obvious properties of things, but their 
 more hidden qualities and relations ; to perceive resemblances 
 which are not commonly perceived ; to combine images,* or 
 sentiments which are not commonly combined ; to exhibit, ia 
 description, persons and things with all the interesting varieties 
 of form or action, of which they are capable, are offices of 
 genius : and it is only in the degree in which these marks of 
 genius appear in any literal^ production, that it can be pro- 
 nounced excellent." 
 
 In every good composition, there must be unity of design ; 
 some leading object, to which ever}' part should have a rela- 
 tion. Whatever has no tendency to illustrate the subject, 
 weakens the general effect; and to every other excellence 
 must be added tliat of utility. This is the chief end of every 
 literary effort, but it must be taken in an enlarged and liberal 
 view ; and it must be remembered, that whatever is calculated 
 to afford innocent and rational amusement, as well as that 
 fhich tends to enlighten the understanding, and improve the 
 heart and morals, may be pronounced useful. 
 
 Next to the thoughts themselves, is the arrangement in 
 which they are to be disposed. This requires the exercise of 
 much attention and accurate judgment. The first conceptions 
 which accidental association may raise in the mind, are not 
 likely to proceed spontaneously in that order which is most 
 natural, and best adapted to form a regular piece. It will, 
 therefore, frequently be an author's inquiry, as he advances in
 
 TASTE. 143 
 
 the progress of his work, whether the method and plan that 
 he has adopted, are the best suited to attain the end he has in 
 view, and whether all the sentiments contained in it are not 
 only just, but pertinent, and in their proper place. 
 
 With regard to expression, the first quality is purity, which 
 consists in such words, and such a grammatical construction 
 of sentences, as are agreeable to the analogy of the language, 
 and to the general usage of accurate writers. The second 
 kind of excellence is perspicuity, which, as we have seen, 
 requires precision in the use of terms, and accuracy in the 
 structure of sentences : it requires not only that what is written 
 may be understood, but that it cannot possibly be misunder- 
 stood. An author's style, is the manner in which he writes, 
 in the same way as a painter's style, is the manner in which he 
 pamts ; in both, conception and expression are equally con- 
 cerned. No one can write well, who has not learned to 
 think well, to arrange his thoughts methodically, and to 
 express them with propriety. SeeAikin's Letters to his Son; 
 and *'An Essay on Reading Works of Taste," prefixed to En- 
 field's Speaker. 
 
 
 I, 
 
 J 't/ , 
 
 %'^<^
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 ON FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE. 
 
 Figures, tbe most simple form of speech Divided into classes ^The tropes 
 of the ancients Comparisons Similies Metaphors. 
 
 A STRONG and vivid imagination is not, either in speak- 
 ing or writing, satisfied with bringing before the hearer's or 
 reader's mind, all the circumstances immediately connected 
 with the principal subject, and placing them in a striking pint 
 of view : it borrows colours and forms from other objects, to 
 embellish and adorn the picture : this is done by means of 
 figurative language. It is called figurative, because the author's 
 meaning is expressed, not by direct phraseology, but under the 
 image of something else. The assertion, that " A good man 
 enjoys satisfaction and hope in the midst of affliction," is an 
 observation expressed in the simplest manner possible; but 
 when it is said, " That, to the upright there ariseth light in 
 darkness," the same idea is expressed in figurative language ; 
 that is, light is put in the place of satisfaction and hope, and 
 darkness is used to suggest the idea of adversity. The Psalm- 
 ist also, in his description of the virtuous character, makes 
 use of highly figurative language : " He shall be like a tree 
 planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in 
 his season ; his leaf also shall not wither."
 
 FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE. 145 
 
 Tliough figures imply a deviation from what may be reck- 
 oned the most simple form of speech, yet they are so far from 
 being unconnnon, that on very many occasions they are the 
 most natural, and the most common method of uttering our 
 sentiments. It is impossible to compose a discourse of any 
 length without using them very frequently : they occur even iu 
 didactic subjects. The origin of figures has, by some, been 
 referred to the poverty of language ; but by others, either to the 
 sport of fancy, or to the expression of passion or enthusiasm. 
 At any rate, and upon any theory, figures must be regarded as 
 an important part of that language which nature seems to dicr 
 tate to man. They are not the result of long study ; nor the 
 invention of schools : the most illiterate speak in figures, as 
 often as the most learned. Imagery, especially from natural 
 objects, is employed by the rudest and most savage nations, 
 not from necessity, but as a matter gf choice. Specimens of 
 this kind abound in the speeches of the Indian chiefs in 
 North America, and among the earliest productions of the 
 Arabians. The oldest writings with which we are acquainted, 
 namely, those of the Hebrew Scriptures, are full of figures ; 
 these are derived from those objects with which, from the 
 time and situation of the country and nation they were most 
 familiar. 
 
 Figures have been described to be language that is prompted 
 either by the imagination or passions. They are divided into 
 two great classes, viz. figures of words and figures of thoughts. 
 The former are called tropes, a Greek term that signifies 
 the turning of a word from its q^igiual meaning, and they 
 consist in a word's being employed to signify something that is 
 different from its original and primitive meaning ; so that if 
 the word be changed, the figure is destroyed : thus in the pas- 
 sage already quoted, " Light ariseth to the upright in dark- 
 ness," the trope consisteth in the words Light and Dark' 
 ness being substituted, the one for satisfaction and hope, and 
 the other for affliction, on account of some analogy which, 
 they are supposed to bear to these conditions of life. Figures 
 
 VOL. J. L
 
 146 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 of thought, suppose the words to be used In their proper and 
 literal meaning ; and the figure consists in the turn of thought^ 
 as is the case in exclamations, interrogations, apostroplies, and 
 comparisons. This distinction is of no great use, nor is it of 
 much importance, whether we assign to any particular mode 
 of expression the name of trope or figure, provided we remem- 
 ber, that figurative language imports some colouring of the 
 imagination, or some emotion of passion. 
 
 Ancieut writers classed as tropes, the metaphor, metonymy, 
 93necdoche, and irony: with ihem, Jigures were almost innu- 
 merable. It is not necessary to follow rhetoricians in all their 
 several distinctions ; we shall very briefly proceed to treat of 
 those forms of expression which are suggested by the relations 
 of resemblance, contiguity, and cause and effect. From the 
 /elation of resemblance proceed the comparison or simile, the 
 metaphor, the allegory, and the allusion. 
 
 The COMPARISON is the first and most natural of all rhe- 
 torical figures. Comparisons serve two purposes ; when ad- 
 dressed to the understanding, their object is to instruct ; when 
 to the heart, their purpose is to please. Objects of different 
 senses cannot be compared together ; because such objects 
 4)eing entirely separated from each other, have no circumstance 
 in common to admit either resemblance or contrast. Objects 
 of hearing may be compared, and so also of the odier senses ; 
 but the chief sources of comparison are objects of sight, as 
 being more distinct and lively than those of any other sense. 
 Similies are not the natural language of passion ; they will not 
 serve to express the vehement emotions of the mind ; for if, 
 at that time, the imagination is disposed to be excursive, it 
 will drop the words expressing the resemblance, and adopt the 
 'Metaphor. Hence the difference between a simile and meta- 
 phor : in the former, Uie resemblance is brought before the 
 reader's view, by comparing the ideas together, and by words 
 expressing a likeness ; a metaphor is a comparison, without 
 the words expressing resemblance. A distinction may likewise 
 be established between comparisons and similies: the one'w
 
 FIGURATIVE IjVNGUAGE. 14? 
 
 the general word, comprehending the whole class, or, at least, 
 is appropriated to the most perfect of the kind ; the other is 
 cbie% used in poetry, and implies, perhaps, a slighter and 
 more fanciful resemblance. The comparisons in the Scrip- 
 tures of the Old Testament are bold, and remarkably beautiful; 
 but, like those of the Orientalists in general, the resemblance 
 is frequently too fanciful and remote. They are frequently 
 very short, and the resemblance usually turns upon a single 
 circumstance, which is explained in few words, without the 
 introduction of any matter foreign to the purpose. Classical 
 writers are more sparing in their similies ; but there is too 
 great a sameness in those of Virgil and Homer. In their de- 
 scriptions of battles, the imagery of a lion, bull, an eagle, &c. 
 occurs so often, as to render them tedious rather than attrac- 
 tive. Modem writers enjoy greater advantages in this respect, 
 and to these they have not been inattentive. The superior 
 knowledge which they possess of the arts and sciences, and of 
 the history of nature in particular, has opened to them a wider 
 and more varied field in poetical imagery. It will of course 
 follow, that the author who possesses the greatest scope of 
 knowledge, ceteris paribus, will have the greatest command 
 of imagery, and will produce the boldest and most varied 
 comparisons. They are often to be met with in our gravest 
 productions ; thus, in a sermon on slander, we have the fol- 
 lowing beautiful comparison : *' Censure is in season so very 
 seldom, that it may be compared to that bitter plant which 
 hardly comes to maturity in the life of a man, and is said to 
 flower but once in a hundred years." 
 
 The several rules which have been given with respect to the 
 use of comparisons are as follow: (1.) They should not be 
 taken from common or vulgar objects. (2.) They ought not 
 to be trite, such as comparing a violent passion to a tempest. 
 (3.) They ought to be founded on a likeness, neither too ob- 
 vious nor too remote : if the likeness is too obvious, it dis- 
 gusts ; if too remote, it perplexes ; and, instead of assisting, 
 strains the fancy to comprehend them. (4.) Comparisons 
 
 I. 2
 
 148 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 should never be drawn from an nnknown object, or one of 
 >vhich few people can form clear ideas. Therefore, in works 
 of general reading, or in discourses addressed to popular as- 
 sembliee, comparisons founded oh philosophical discoveries, 
 or on any thing with which persons of a certain trade only, or 
 a particular profession, are conversant, cannot produce iheit 
 proper effect. They should, in general, be taken from those 
 illustrious, noted objects, vhich most readers either have seen, 
 or can strongly conceive. Thus Homer compares Achilles, 
 shining in armour, to the sun in its ascent to the meridian. 
 Milton, also, has taken the sun, moon, and other heavenly 
 bodies, as noted objects, with which he forms some of his 
 noblest similies : 
 
 ' as when the san, new risen, 
 
 Looks throagh the horizontal misty air, 
 
 Shorn of his beams, or from behind the moon 
 
 In dim eclipse disastrous twilight sheds 
 
 On half the nations, darkcn'd so, yet shone 
 
 Above them all, th' Archangel. Pab.Lost. B.Jf.- 
 
 In this fme simile, the resemblance consists aot only in sen- 
 sible properties, but in character. 'J^hus it is not only the 
 ' form of Satan, still retaining its brightness, though obscured, 
 which is compared to that of the sun behind a mist ; but his 
 malignant cjiaracter is also expressed by the ominous nature of 
 an eclipse, according to the superstitious notions then so gene- 
 rally admitted concerning tliat phenomenon. 
 
 Homer likens the shield of Achilles to the moon, and Mil- 
 ton does the same with respect to the shield of Satan : 
 
 And next he raised his ample, ponderous shield, 
 
 Whence beam'd from far a lustre, Uke the moon's. III. xix. 
 
 his ponderona shield, 
 
 EUicrcal temper, niasjy, large, and round, 
 Behind him cast, the broad circumference 
 Hung on his shoulders like the moon, &c. 
 
 Comparisons are not proper on all occasions : the mind must
 
 FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE. 149 
 
 be disposed foiOhein to render them acceptable ; and in gene- 
 ral, when by any animating passion, whether pleasant or pain- 
 ful, an impulse is given to the imagination, we are in a condi- 
 tion to admit figurative expressions, especially comparisons: 
 ^hus, in Shakespeare, the dread of misfortune, always involv- 
 ing some doubt and uncertainty, agitates the mind, excites the 
 imagination, and fits it for Wolsey's soliloquy 
 
 Nay, then, farewell ! 
 
 I've tonch'd tlie liigliest point of all my greatness, 
 
 And from that full meridian of my glory 
 
 I haste now to my setting. I shall fall, 
 
 Like a bright exhalation in the evening. 
 
 And no man see me more. Henry VIII. 
 
 i 
 Happy as the poet often is in his similies, he sometimes in- 
 troduces them very improperly. As they are not the language 
 of a man in his ordinary state of mind, dispatching his usual 
 employment, the speech of the gardener, therefore, to his ser- 
 vants, in his Richard II., is very improper : 
 
 Go, bind thou up yon dangling apricots. 
 Which, like unruly children, make their sire 
 Stoop with oppression of their prodigal weight : 
 Qive some supportance to the bending twigs. 
 
 As comparison is founded on the resemblance, so Anti- 
 thesis depends on the contrast or opposition of two objects. 
 Contrast has always this effect : it makes each of the contrasted 
 objects appear in the stronger light. Antithesis may, there- 
 fore, on many occasions, be employed to advantage, in order 
 to strengthen the impression which we intend that any object 
 should make. On this account, Cicero makes considerable 
 use of it . in his orations ; as in the second against Catiline : 
 " On one side stands modesty, on the other impudenge ; on 
 the one fidelity, on the other deceit; here piety, ther^ 
 sacrilege; here continency, there lust," &c. Such is also 
 that of Augustus, to certain seditious young men: " Audite
 
 VtO BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 juvenes senem, quern juvenem senes audivdr ;" and this of 
 
 Vii^I: 
 
 Flectere si ncqueo superos, AchcroDta movebo. 
 
 IVom simities we proceed to Metaphors, which are the 
 most common of all figures of speech ; so much so, that when 
 we say a thing is spoken figuratively, we refer to the metaphor. 
 The n)etaphor is a short simile, or, as it has been called by 
 Cicero, a similitude reduced to a single word, and it differs 
 from it only in this ; that the former is conipared to the thing 
 we design to express, and the latter is put for it. The prin- 
 cipal advantage which the metaphor possesses over the simile, 
 is, that the former carries the mind nearer the reality than the 
 latter : as when it is said of Achilles, that " ^e rushed like a 
 lion," we have the idea of a man going on furiously to battle ; 
 but M'hen it is said, " the lion rushed oo," the image is more 
 vivid. So also when Virgil calls the Scipio's the thunder-bolts 
 of war, the idea is much more animated than if he had com- 
 pared them to thunder-bolts. By nieaus of a metaphor, the 
 rudder of a ship is called its reins ; for, what reins are to the 
 horse, that the rudder is to a ship in guiding and directing it. 
 When Christ called Herod a fox, it was by the use of the 
 metaphor : in the same way, a great minis*ter, as the illus- 
 trious Earl of Chatham, was aptly denominated the " pillar 
 of the state." 
 
 As the metaphor is intended to set things before the eyes, 
 it becomes so much the more perfect, as it shews them the 
 more vividly by representing them in motion and action. The 
 metaphor is described by Cicero as the most florid manner of 
 expression, and the brightest ornament of language that con- 
 sists in single words. 
 
 A metaphor should have nothing in it coarse or shocking, or 
 that iTiay raise it above the simplicity of nature, so as to be 
 forced or harsh ; it should never be carried too far, for in that 
 case it is apt to degenerate into puerility. Metaphors should 
 always be followed in the same kind, otherwise they become
 
 FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE. 151 
 
 mixed, unnatural, and unpleasing. We cannot, for instance, 
 say, that a place was besieged by a deluge of troubles ; because 
 die two iopiages of a siege and deluge have no sort of relation. 
 A very striking metaphor from Lord Bolingbroke's " Remarks 
 on the History of England" has been noticed by writers on 
 Rhetoric. Speaking of the behaviour of Charles I. to his last 
 parliament, he says, " About a month after their meeting, lie 
 dissolved them ; and as soon as he had dissolved them, he re- 
 pented; but he repented too* late, of his rashness. Well might 
 he repent, for the vessel was now full, and this last drop made 
 the waters of bitterness to flow. Here," the historian adds, 
 *' we draw the curtain, and put an end to our remarks." The 
 vessel is put for the state or temper of the 'nation, already full, 
 that is, provoked to the highest by former oppressions and 
 wrongs : this last drop stands for the provocation recently re- 
 ceived by the abrupt dissglution of the parliament; and the 
 overflowing of the waters of bitterness, beautifully expresses 
 all the effects of resentment let loose by an exasperated people. 
 There is nothing in which young writers are more faulty, than in 
 the indiscreet use of metaphors : they who understand them 
 the best, use them with the greatest caution and reserve. Mr. 
 Addison proposes it as a rule, for writers to imagine their 
 metaphors actually painted before them, and to view and ex- 
 amine the justness of their application and assemblage under 
 those circumstances ; throwing every thing out of the writing 
 but what might be retained in the picture. 
 
 A metaphor is not always confined to a single word ; it may 
 extend to a whole sentence, as is the case in the following ani- 
 piated figure : 
 
 *' The swarm of monks that arose from the Nile, over- 
 spread and darkened the face of the Christian world." Gibbon. 
 Some metaphors, particularly those comprized in a single 
 word, have become so common, that they are scarcely to bq 
 considered as figurative. Thus we speak of an arm of the 
 sea ; the foot of a mountain; &tc. without thinking of figurative 
 language.
 
 Id^ BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 The uses of metaphor are, that they render the style more 
 animated and striking, by introducing a new idea, in which 
 for the moment the original seems to be lost: they diversify 
 and vary a style, arid relieve it from that tedious uniformity, 
 which would be the result of a style, in which every word was 
 used in the literal sense : they serve to enlarge and elevate 
 our subject, and bestow dignity on composition. Thus the 
 expression, " Death spares neither the rich nor the poor," is 
 low, when compared with the beautiful lines of Horace, 
 expressive of the same idea : 
 
 Pallida mors spqno pulsat pede pauperuiu tabernas, 
 Regumque turres. 
 
 In English, 
 
 With eqaal pace, impartial fate 
 
 Knocks at the palace, as the cottage gate. 
 
 The rules laid down with regard to metaphors are as follow : 
 They should be suited to the nature of the subject of which 
 we treat : they should be neither too many, nor too gay, nor 
 too elevated : they should not be calculated to raise in the 
 mind disagreeable, mean, vulgar, or dirty ideas : the resem- 
 blance, which is the foundation of the metaphor, should be 
 clear and perspicuous, not far-fetched, nor difficult of disco- 
 very : two different metaphors should never be made to meet 
 on the same object. This is what is called a mixed meta- 
 phor, and is a wretched abuse of the figure. Such is Shake- 
 speare's expression, to " take arms against a sea of troubles :" 
 such, also, is the metaphor in Mr. Addisoq's letter from 
 Italy 
 
 I bridle in my struggling Muse in vaip. 
 
 That longs to launch into a bolder strain. 
 
 It is highly improper to change the muse from a horse to a 
 ship. 
 
 Lastly, metaphors ought not to be crowded or heaped one 
 upon another, nor should they be pursued too far. It is true,
 
 FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE. 153 
 
 that, under circumstances of great agitation, a flow of metaphors 
 may be allowed ; of this we have an instance in Macbeth, 
 against which the most fastidious reader will scarcely object : 
 
 Can'st tlion not minister to a mind diseased? 
 
 Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow? 
 
 Rase out the living tablets of the brain ; 
 
 And, with some sweet oblivious antidote 
 
 Cleanse the foul bosom of that periloas stuff*, 
 
 That weighs upon the heart ? 
 
 4fr 
 
 ^
 
 *^- 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE,. 
 
 Continued, 
 
 Allegory Catacbresis Metonymy Synecdoche Periphrasis Prosopo* 
 poeia, or Personification Rules for the managenieut of: Apostrophe-^ 
 Hyperbole Irony Paraleipsis Interrogation-^ExcIamation ; and Re* 
 petition. 
 
 An allegory is, properly, a continued metaphor, or per- 
 haps more correctly, a series of metaphors in one or more 
 sentences; such is that contained in the 14lh Ode of the 
 First Book of Horace : 
 
 O navis, referent in marc te novi 
 
 Fluctus? O! quid agisP fortiter occnpa * 
 
 Fortum, &c. 
 
 In which, the ship is usually held to stand for the Republic j 
 waves, for civil war; port, for peace and concord; oars, for 
 soldiers ; and mariners, for magistrates. In Prior's Henry 
 and Emma, the latter describes her constancy to Henry in the 
 following allegorical manner: 
 
 Did I bat purpose to embark with thee 
 On the smooth surface of a summer's sea, 
 While gentle zephyrs play with prosperous galea, 
 And fortune's favour fills the swelling sails ; 
 But would forsake the ship, and make the shore, 
 When the winds whistle, and the tempests roar?
 
 FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE. 155 
 
 A fine example of an allegory is to be found in the 80th 
 Psalm, in which the people of Israel are represented under the 
 image of a vine, and the figure is supported tliroughout with 
 great correctness and beauty. 
 
 Bishop Lowth has, in his " De Sacra Poesi Hebraeorum," 
 specified three forms of allegory that occur in sacred poetry. 
 The first is, that which rhetoricians call a cohtinued meta- 
 phor ; an example of this kind occurs in the beginning of the 
 twelfth chapter of the book of Ecclesiastes, in which old 
 age is so admirably depicted. A second kind of allegory is 
 that which, in a proper and more restricted sense, may be 
 called a parable, and consists of a continued narration of some 
 fictitious event, accommodated by way of similitude to the 
 illustration of certain important truths. Allegories of this kind 
 are called by the Greeks, apologues ; by the Latins, fables. 
 Such are the fables of ^sop, and Pilpay, the Indian sage ; 
 and such are the narratives of Christ, conveyed under the 
 pame of parables. Such, in later times, is Spenser's Fairy 
 Queen, which consists of a series of these allegories ; and the 
 very popular work of John Bunyan, "The Pilgrim's Pro- 
 gress." The third species of allegory, which often occurs in 
 prophetic poetry, is that in which a double meaning is couched 
 under the same words ; or when the same discourse, differently 
 interpreted, designates different events, dissimilar in their na- 
 ture, and remote as to time. 
 
 The first of these kinds of allegory differs only in length 
 from the simple metaphor ; and it may he observed, that no 
 figure is more delicate or difficult in the hands of a young 
 writer. If the great difficulty in the use of a metaphor, is to 
 preserve the allusion in all its parts, it must be increased, by 
 applying a series of metaphors, to illustrate the same subject 
 Accordingly we perpetually find even good writers forgetting 
 the figurative, and resorting to the literal sense. 
 
 The following are given by Dr. Gregory, as excellent (the 
 first, however, is not altogether faultless) allegorical composi- 
 tions :
 
 156 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 This is the state of man : to-day, be puts forth 
 
 The tender leaves of hope ; to-morrow, blossomS; 
 
 And bears his blushing lionours tliick upon him: 
 
 The third day comes a frost, a killing frost ! 
 
 And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely 
 
 Hit greatn'ss is a ripening nips his root, 
 
 And then he falls, &c. Henry "VIII. 
 
 In the fifth line, the literal is, in a measure, confounded 
 with the figurative meaning ; but, as a whole, it is very beauti- 
 ful, and the third line is finely descriptive ; but it*^cannot be 
 concealed, that it is unnatural, as coming from Wolsey after his 
 fall ; for we cannot imagine such an exuberance of allegory 
 and metaphor, as we meet with in this speech, ever fell from 
 the lips of a man overwhelmed in distress and grief. 
 
 The next is taken from Gibbon's Roman History. The 
 author, in speaking of the speculative dissensions which existed 
 in the Christian church at the period he is describing, says, 
 " It will not be expected, it would not, perhaps, be endured, 
 that I should swell this theological discussion, by a minute ex- 
 amination of eighteen creeds, the authors of which, for the 
 most part, disclaimed the odious name of their parent, Arius. 
 It is amusing enough to delineate the form, and to trace the 
 vegetation of this singular plant; but the tedious detail of 
 leaves without flowers, and of branches without fruit, would 
 soon exhaust the patience, and disappoint the curiosity of the 
 laborious student." 
 
 The CATACHRESis is a figure, which signifies, according 
 to the true meaning of the Greek term, an abuse of words ; 
 that is, when the words are too far wTested from their native 
 signification, as a voice heaiittful to the ear. The catachresis, 
 in oratory, is very likely tooccur, when, in the eagerness and 
 warmth inspired by true eloquence, a man, for want of a 
 word proper to express a thought, uses, or, as the term 
 xalax^aofAai expresses, abuses a word that comes near it : as 
 when we call a person who has killed his mother, his master, 
 or his sovereign, a parricide) a tertn which can, in strictness 
 of language, only be applied to one who has murdered his
 
 FIGltRATIVE LANGUAGE. 157 
 
 father. The Latin phrase vir gregis ipse caper, is also a ca- 
 tachresis. This figure, though not justifiable according to 
 the principles of rhetoric, is often employed by poets for 
 the sake of novelty, and to enforce expression, when the pro- 
 per word does not seem strong enough. Thus, Milton adopts 
 the catachresis, when he describes Raphael's descent from 
 heaven,. 
 
 -Down thitlier prone inflight 
 
 He speeds, and through the vast ethereal sky 
 Sails between worldjs and worlds. 
 
 Here the novelty of the word enlivens the image much 
 more than if he had said flies. This trope is used occasionally 
 by the gravest authors, and is to be found in the Scriptures. 
 Thus, we read of the " blood of the grape ;" and in the book 
 of Proverbs, " The horse-leech hath two daughters." In these 
 instances, the trope is, perhaps, a metaphor ; but when St. 
 John, in the book of Revelations says, " I turned to see the 
 voice that spake to me/' it is a metonymy^ the voice being put 
 for the person who uttered it. St. Matthew mentions " Simon, 
 the leper," not that he was then a leper, but had been so, 
 and was cured ; which is a synecdoche. When a criminal is 
 said to " have had his reward,'* that is, his punishment, it is irony. 
 But to return to the catachresis: the vivid imagination of 
 Mr. Burke, together with the violence of his temper, led him 
 frequently to the use of this figure : thus, he describes the 
 revolutionists of Francp, " Architects of ruin." 
 
 Metonymy, to w^ich we have already alluded, consists in 
 a transmutation, or change of names ; or putting the effect for 
 the cause, or the subject for the adjunct. There are four 
 kinds of metonymy chiefly used : in ik\e first, the external cause 
 is put for the effect, which may be said to occur when the 
 inventor's name is used for the thing invented ; thus Mars is 
 put for War : Ceres, for Corn; owdi Bacchus, iot Wine: hen^e 
 Virgil says, 
 
 Implentur veteris BaccU pinquisqiie farinse. :
 
 158 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 Agreeably to this figure, the author's name is employed to 
 designate his works : thus we say, that we have read Homer, 
 Virgil, or Milton, that is, the works of these authors. The 
 second metonymy puts the effect for the cause, whether the 
 agent, or only the means and instrument, tlius Virgil calls the 
 two Scipio's the destruction of Libya, but they were the 
 agents who effected it. Horace speaks of Pale Death, Pal- 
 lida Mors, instead of Death that makes or causes paleness : 
 the same author compliments Maecenas, 
 
 O, et prssidiiim, et dulce decns menm, 
 
 in which, the titles of his guard and honour are put for 
 guardian and vindicator of his honour. By the third figure 
 of metonymy, the adjunct is used for the subject, as when we 
 speak of \k\e fasces for the magistrate : thus also Cicero says, in 
 the time of battle the lazes, that is, \\\e judges, are silent. The 
 fourth kind of metonymy is when the subject is put for the 
 adjunct, that is, when we speak of statues or pictures, as the 
 persons whom they represent. By this figure of metonymy, 
 one name is often put for another, for which it may be allow- 
 ed to stand, on account of some striking relation between the 
 two : thus we call a very mild and humane prince, a Titus : a 
 cruel one, a Nero ; and a great conqueror, Alexander. 
 
 Another rhetorical figure is called synecdoche, which puts 
 the whole for a part, or a part for the whole, a genus for a 
 species, or a species for a genus, thus a man is said to get his 
 . bread by his labour, that is, his whole subsistence. If we say, he 
 obtains his bread by the sweat of his brcfw, there are two figures ; 
 the bread is put for the subsistence, and by the phrase, " the 
 meat of the brow** the effect i^ put for the cause, viz. labour. 
 
 The PERIPHRASIS is a metonymy in which more words are 
 employed than are necessary, or usual, which is much affected 
 by orators to give variety to their mode of expression : thus 
 we may speak of the Duke of Wellington as the " Immortal 
 liberator of the Peninsula," and no person would mistake the 
 man. It is often a mark of politeness to suppress the names
 
 FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE. K19 
 
 of persons spoken of, who happen to be present, and only to 
 point them out by their cliaracteristic. In parliament, the 
 name is never used, but instead of it, the person who would 
 point out another, says, the noble Lord, or the honourable 
 member on the right, or left, or who has just spoken, &c. 
 
 One of the most animated figures in rheforic, when pro- 
 perly managed, is the prosopopceia, or personification. It 
 has some alliance with the metaphor ; but still more with 
 metonymy; and in fact it seems, in most cases, to be to the 
 latter, what the allegory is to the metaphor. In some cases it 
 is not easy to determine whether the figure be a metonymy or 
 a prosopopoeia, as in the phrase " Youth and beauty are laid 
 in the dust." Dr. Gregory quotes a fine specimen of this 
 figure from Miss Seward's Monody on Major Andr6, who, 
 according to the laws of civilized war, as they are called, was 
 executed ; but, in the eye of reason, murdered by the Ame- 
 ricans, 
 
 Loud Iiowls the storm, the vex'd Atlantic roars, 
 Thy Genius, Britain, wanders on its shores ! 
 Hears cries of horror wafted from afar, 
 The groans of anguish 'mid the shrieks of wart 
 Hears the deep curses of the great and brave. 
 Sigh in the wind, and murmur in the wave ! 
 O'er liis damp brovv the sable crape he binds, 
 And throws his victor garland to the winds. 
 
 Another beautiful figure is taken by the same author, from 
 Hayley's Essay on History : 
 
 Humility herself, divinely mild. 
 Sublime Religion's meek and modest child, 
 Like the dumb son of Croesus, in the strife. 
 When force assail'd his father's sacred life, 
 Breaks silence, and with filial duty warm. 
 Bids thee revere her parent's hallowed form. 
 
 Although personification is particularly adapted to poetry, 
 yet this figure serves frequently to adorn the works of the best 
 prose writers : thus in Tacitus^ *' After the slaughter of sq
 
 160 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 many distinguished men, Nero meditated, at length, the ex- 
 tirpation of virtue herself, by the murder of Thrasca." 
 
 The mind, agitated by certain passions, is prone to bestow 
 sensibility upon things inanimate, hence Antony, mourning 
 over the body of Caesar murdered in the Senate, supposes the 
 dead corpse listening to him, 
 
 O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, 
 
 That I am meek and gentle with these butchers, &c. 
 
 Shakespeare makes Richard exclaim, upon landing from his 
 Irish expedition. 
 
 -I weep for joy 
 
 To stand upon my kingdom once again. 
 . Dear earth, I do salute thee with my hand. 
 Though rebels wound thee with their horses' hoofi. 
 
 The same poet personifies death in a fanciful, but striking 
 manner : 
 
 -Within the hollow crown, 
 
 That rounds the mortal temples of a king. 
 
 Keeps Death his court; and there the antic sits. 
 
 Scoffing his state, aud grinning at his pomp ; 
 
 Allowing him a breath, a little scene, 
 
 To nionarchize, be feared, and kill with looks; 
 
 Infusing him with self and vain cdnccit, 
 
 As if this flesh, which walls about our life. 
 
 Were brass impregnable : aud, humour'd thus. 
 
 Comes at the last, and with a little pin 
 
 Bores through his castle-wall, aud, farewell ! king. 
 
 Richard II. 
 
 Shakespeare's personification of sleep is as well known as it 
 is highly celebrated : 
 
 O gentle Sleep, 
 
 Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee! 
 That thou no more wilt weigh my eye-lids down, 
 Aud steep my senses in forgetfulness, &c. 
 
 Dr. Blair observes, that one of the greatest pleasures which 
 we receive from poetry, is, to find ourselves always in the
 
 FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE. l6l 
 
 midst of our fellows, and to see every thing thinking, feel- 
 ing, and acting as we ourselves do : this, perhaps, is the prin- 
 cipal charm of the figure personification. It introduces us 
 into society with all nature, and interests us, even in inanimate 
 objects, by forming a connexion between them and us, through 
 that sensibility which it ascribes to them. Our author gives 
 some passages in illustration of this theory, of which we shall 
 transcribe a part : 
 
 But, yonder comes the powerful king of day, 
 
 Rejoicing in the east. The lessening cloud, 
 
 The kindling azure, and the mountain's brow 
 
 Tipt with ethereal gold, bis near approach 
 
 Betoken glad. Thomson's Summer. 
 
 -To the nuptial bower, 
 
 I led her, blushing like the morn. All heaven, 
 And happy constellations, on that hour 
 Shed their selectest influence. The earth 
 Gave signs of gratulation, and each hill : 
 Joyous the birds ; fresh gales and gentle airs 
 Whisper'd it to the woods, &c. Milton. 
 
 This figure has uncommon force and expression, as it is 
 used by Hebrew writers. What can be considered more apt, 
 more beautiful, or more sublime, than that personification of 
 Wisdom, which is so frequently introduced by Solomon ? 
 Prov. iii. viii. ix. &c. How admirable is that celebrated 
 personification of the divine attributes by the Psalmist ! 
 Psalms, Ixxxv. 2. Such also is that in Habakkuk, chap. iii. 5, 
 of the pestilence marching before Jehovah, when He comes to 
 vengeance ; that, in Job, chap, xxviii. 22. in which Destruc- 
 tion and Death affirm of Wisdom, that her fame only had 
 come to their ears ; and that tremendous image, in Isaiah, of 
 Hades, extenduig her throat, and opening her insatiable and 
 immeasurable jaws, chap. v. 14. There is another beautiful 
 species of personification, which originates from a well-known 
 Hebrew idiom ; or that form of expression by which the sub- 
 ject, attribute, accident^ or effect of any thing, is denominated 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 %6^ BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 die son. Isaiali, pronounced by Dr. Lowth, to be the sub- 
 limest of poets, furnishes, in one short poem, exnmples of 
 almost every form of the prosopopoeia ; and, indeed, of all 
 that constitutes the sublime in composition. See Is. xiv. 4 27. 
 After a critique upon this sublime ode of Isaiah, the learned 
 writer concludes in the following manner : " How forcible is 
 this imagery, how diversified, how sublime ! how elevated the 
 diction, the figures, the sentiments ! The Jewish nation, the 
 cedars of Lebanon, the ghosts of departed kings, the Babylon- 
 ish monarch, the travellers who find his corpse, and, the last 
 of all, Jehovah himself, are the characters which support this 
 beautiful lyric drama. One continued action is kept up, or 
 rather a series of interesting actions are connected together in 
 an incomparable whole : this, indeed, is the principal and 
 distinguished excellence of the sublimer ode, and is displayed 
 in its utmost perfection in this poem of Isaiah, which may be 
 considered as one of the most ancient, and certainly the most 
 finished specimen of that species of composition, which 
 has been transmitted to us. The personifications here are 
 frequent, yet not confused ; bold, yet not improbable ; a free, 
 elevated, and truly divine spirit pervades the whole; nor is 
 there any thing wanting in this ode to defeat its claim to the 
 character of perfect beauty and sublimity." Lowth's Lectures. 
 Three rules are to be observed for the management of per- 
 sonification : ( I .) It should rarely be attempted, unless when 
 prompted by strong passiou ; nor continued when the passion 
 begins to flag. (2.) We must never personify any object, but 
 such as has some dignity in itself, and can make a proper 
 figure in the elevation to which we rais^ it. (S.) Whenever 
 it is introduced, the picture it presents should be complete in 
 itself, which shews the meanness of the following attempt : 
 
 Invidioas grave, how dost thon rend in sunder 
 Whom love has knit, aud sympathy made one ! 
 
 A person must have a very fertile, or very strong imagination, 
 to form a picture of a grave rending in sunder.
 
 FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE. 163 
 
 The APOSTROPHE is a more animated personification, in 
 which the object persouitied is addressed in the second person, 
 A real personage may, however, be addressed in an apostrophe, 
 but he must be supposed either dead or absent. In the Old 
 Testament we have many remarkable instances of this figure, 
 as in the prophet Jeremiah, " O thou sword of the Lord ! 
 how long will it be ere ihou be quiet? put thyself up into the 
 scabbard, rest, and be still !" 
 
 The apostrophe was never more properly introduced than 
 in Lear's address to the elements, when discarded and turned 
 out by Regan, 
 
 ^ Spit, fire! spout, rain! 
 
 . Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire, are my daughters. 
 I tax not yoj ye elements, with unkindness, 
 I never gave yea a kingdom, called you, children, 
 You owe me no subscription, &c. 
 
 The following is also a fine example, put into the mouth of 
 Eve, by Milton, 
 
 O unexpected stroke, woi-se than of death ! 
 
 Must I leave thee, Paradise ! thus leave 
 
 Thee, native soil, these happy walks and shades, i 
 
 Fit haunts of Gods? Where I had hoped to spend, 
 
 Quiet, though sad, the respite of that day 
 
 That must be mortal to us both. O flowers. 
 
 That never will in other climate grow, 
 
 My early visitation, and my last 
 
 At even ; which I bred up with tender hand, 
 
 From the first opening bud, and gave you names ; 
 
 Who now shall fear ye to the sun, or rank 
 
 Your tribes? &c. 
 
 The HYPERBOLE is nothing more than an excess of figur- 
 ative language, the effect, when it is natural, of passion. All 
 passions are inclined to magnify their objects. Injuries seem 
 greater than they really are, to those who have sustained them ; 
 and dangers are magnified to those who are in apprehension 
 of them : 
 
 Victors and vanquish'd join promiscuous cries. 
 
 And sbriilipg shouts, and dying groans arise ; 
 
 M a
 
 164 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 With stiaming blood, the slipp'ry fields are dy'd, 
 And slaiighter'd heroes swell the dreadful tide. r. 
 
 Homer's Iliad* 
 
 The hyperbole should never beJ introduced in the descrip- 
 tion of any thing ordinary or familiar, for in such case it is 
 unnatural, being destitute of surprise, which is its only found- 
 ation. The hyperbole can never suit a dispiriting passion : 
 and it should never be strained beyond diie bounds. Lon- 
 ginus compares such a one to a bow-string, which relaxes 
 by overstraining, and produces an effect directly opposite to 
 what is intended. Finally, the hyperbole ought to be com- 
 prehended in the fewest words possible. 
 
 Irony, according to some writers, has been classed as a 
 figure of rhetoric, but others do not alfow it that rank. All 
 irony, says Dr. Priestley, is humour, but all humour is 'not 
 irony; it generally consists in giving undeserved praise, im- 
 plying censure on the object ; or conveying censure under the 
 appearance of praise : the former is the most common. When 
 Frederic II. published his poem on tlie art of war, he omitted 
 to notice the Duke of Marlborough. On that circumstance 
 the Monthly Reviewers remarked, " that they presumed his 
 Majesty had omitted the name of Marlborough, in the cata- 
 logue of distinguished commanders, because he might be defi- 
 cient in one branch of his profession, having never, on any oc- 
 casion, evinced his skill in conducting a retreat." 
 
 The PARALEiPSis borders on irony, it implies an affecta- 
 tion of omission, as when an orator exclaims, " I refrain from 
 mentioning the rapacity, the venality, the exceeding corruption 
 of the person I accuse," &c. Cicero, in his orations, makes 
 much use of this figure, but it requires powerful talents, and 
 an ardent manner, to do justice to it. 
 
 Of the INTERROGATION, there are many fine instances in 
 the poetical and prophetical parts of Scripture, " God is not 
 a man, that He should lie, nor the son of man, that He should 
 repent. Hath He said, and shall He not do it P" 
 
 Exclamation b a stronger figure than the former, and
 
 FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE. 165 
 
 must be but rarely used, as it will appear ridiculous, unless 
 where the passions are inflamed. When it is used by an 
 orator, it requires the voice to be raised, as in the exclama- 
 tion of Cicero, " O tempora ! O mores ! Senatus haec intelli- 
 git, consul vidit : hie vivit ; vivit f imo vero etiam in Senatum 
 venit." The same author uses this iigure to express a variety 
 of passions ; as indignation, resentment,^ contempt, grief, and 
 admiration. It has its use in ridicule and irony, thus the ora- 
 tor exclaims, in his oration for Balbus, deriding the accuser, 
 " O excellent interpreter of the law ! master of antiquity, 
 corrector and amender of our constitution !" St. Paul makes 
 use of the exclamation in exultation and triumph, " O death, 
 where is thy sting ! O grave, where is thy victory !" It is fre- 
 quently used with an interrogation, and serves to prepare the 
 mind by exciting attention. 
 
 Another figure of speech, called by Blair and other critics, 
 Vis ION, is adapted also to warm and animated composition, by 
 which we describe a thing that is past or absent, as if actually 
 passing before our eye, thus Cicero says, " Videor enim mihi 
 banc urbem videre, lucem orbis terrarum atque arcem omnium 
 gentium, subito uno incendio concidentem, &c." " I seem 
 to myself to behold this city, the ornament of the earth, and 
 the capital of all nations, suddenly involved in one conflagra- 
 tion. I see before me the slaughtered heaps of citizens lying 
 unburied in the midst of their ruined country. The furious 
 countenance of Cethegus rises to my view, while, with a savage 
 joy, he is triumphing in your miseries." This manner of de- 
 scription supposes a sort of enthusiasm which carries the 
 speaker or writer in some measure out of himself, and if well 
 executed, impresses the hearer or reader strongly, by the force 
 of the sympathy. 
 
 Repetition is another animated figure, by which the most 
 material words of a sentence are repeated, in order to make 
 the impression the stronger : one of the finest instances of this 
 figure is in St. Paul's second Epistle to the Corinthians, " Are 
 they Hebrews ? So am I. Are they Israelites ? So am I.
 
 166 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 Are they the seed of Abraham ? So am I. Are they minis- 
 ters of Christ ? (I speak as a fool) I am more ; in labours 
 more abuiuiaiit, in stripes ^bove measure, in prisons more 
 frequent, in deaths oft." 
 
 Such are the principal figures of rhetoric, many others are 
 enumerated and described by rhetoricians, all of which, says 
 Dr. Blair, are beautiful or not, in proportion as they are na- 
 tive expressions of the sentiment, or passion intended to be 
 heightened by them. Let nature and passion always speak 
 their own language, and they will suggest figures in abundance. 
 But if we seek to counterfeit a warmth which we do not feel, 
 no figures will either supply the defect, or conceal the im- 
 posture.
 
 CHAP. XL 
 
 OF PROSE COMPOSITION. 
 
 Kules for didactic composition ^For deliberative, and Judicial eloquence 
 Of what regular orations nuist consist Of the exordium J*ropoition 
 Narration ^Arguments ; and Peroration. 
 
 A LL kinds of composition may be classed under two divi- 
 sions, prose and poetry. Prose compositions, tlie subject 
 of this chapter, may be arranged in the following classes: 
 (1.) Didactic and argunientative ; (2.) Oratorical; (3.) Nar- 
 rative and descriptive. The first comprehends whatever re- 
 lates to moral, political, or natural philosophy; all treatises 
 on the arts and sciences, and all discussions and controver- 
 sies, which do not come under the second division. This 
 second division, includes not only the three great braqches of 
 oratory, the senate, the bar and the pulpit, but likewise much 
 of controversy, and every thing that assumes a declamatory 
 form. The third and last division extends to real and fictir 
 tious history, memoirs, books of travels ; and essays, of which 
 most are either narratives or descriptions. The three kinds 
 are often found blended in one work, as in Thucydides, and 
 Livy, in which will be found as much of oratory as of rnere 
 narrative. 4 
 
 Jn didactic or argumentative compositions; a jSgurative
 
 168 BELLES LETT RES. 
 
 style is improperly introduced, yet, in what are called moral 
 essays, figures are often very appropriate. Productions of this 
 kind, partake more or less of the nature of poetry or oratory, 
 and being, in a measure, works of imagination, the orna- 
 ments of fancy are not improperly bestowed upon them. 
 There are few productions of the narrative kind which will 
 not admit of ornament, but description is more open to it than 
 narrative ; oratory, however, admits of the greatest variety of 
 ornament. This, occasionally, has recourse to almost all the 
 figures which are appropriated to poetry, and to some peculiar 
 to itself; and it is to this branch of composition, that the 
 art of rhetoric particularly applies. 
 
 This art, like all others, is the result of observations made 
 by men of enlightened minds and enlarged understandings. 
 After a great variety of attempts, those principles were at 
 length discovered, which distinguish between the good and 
 ^f^.^^ the bad; between the faulty and the perfect. These principles, 
 when reduced to method and well arranged, save succeedhig 
 inquirers much pains and trouble, considerably shorten the 
 Toad to knowledge, and materially assist in the formation of a 
 correct judgment. Though, as in poetry, accurate rules of 
 criticism will not bestow genius, they will be the means of 
 checking redundancy and bombast, and of detecting errors, 
 so also with regard to the precepts of rhetoric, it may be 
 asserted, that though they will not generate that energy of 
 mind, which rises to the highest flights of eloquence, they 
 will warn the orator against incongruity in the disposition of 
 his matter, absurdity in argument, and the false glitter of 
 ornament, which amuses instead of convincing ; or those inju- 
 dicious attempts to interest the feehngs, which excite ridicule 
 rather than sympathy. 
 
 The foundation of eloquence is. right reason, and its exer- 
 cise implies the possession of that faculty, both in the speaker 
 and hearer ; hence, rhetoric is neai ly allied to logic. Quin- 
 tilian, in treating of the utility of the art of rhetoric, says, " If in 
 any thing the Creator has distinguished us from the rest of the
 
 PROBE COMPOSITION. 169 
 
 animals, it is by the gift of speech. They surpass us in 
 strength, in size, in swiftness, in patience, and, especially, in 
 independence of foreign aid. Guided by instinct, they soon 
 learn by its instructions to walk, to feed themselves, and to 
 swim. Their protection against the cold, and their weaporw 
 of defence, are provided for them by nature. But what pains 
 and labour does it cost man to procure all these things. 
 Reason is our inheritance, and this seems to associate us to 
 immortal beings. But how feeble would reason be, were it ' 
 
 not for the faculty of expressing our thoughts by speech, which 
 is the faithful interpreter of reason ! This is what is wanting 
 in inferior animals much more than understanding, of which 
 it cannot be justly said that they are absolutely destitute. If 
 then, we have received nothing from the Deity better than 
 the use of speech, what is there which we ought to cultivate 
 with greater industry ! What object is more worthy our am- 
 bition, than rising above other men by that faculty, which 
 alone raises them above the level of brutes !" 
 
 A still greater dignity, says a modern writer, will attach to 
 the acquirement of eloquence, and consequently to the science 
 of rhetoric, if it be considered that eloquence and freedom 
 go hand in hand. It is only in free states, and under popular ,: 
 governments, that oratory can flourish. When the people ,3 
 are appealed to on the subject of state-affairs ; when political 
 measures are to be enforced, either by the enlightening their 
 judgment, or by the excitement of their passions, the greatest 
 talents are exercised in studying the art of persuasion, and 
 the result is found in the most wonderful efforts of human 
 ability. But when brute force predominates, and the people 
 bow beneath the yoke of tyranny, the voice of reason is stilled, 
 and eloquence is mute. The ancient rhetoricians divide ora- 
 torical composition into three species, viz. the demonstrative, 
 the deliberative, and the judicial. The demonstrative is 
 chiefly conversant in bestowing praise or blame, and com- 
 prehends the panegyric, and the funeral eulogy: such are 
 Isocrates' Panegyric on Evagoras, King of Salamis ; Cicero's
 
 170 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 Oration on the pardoning of Marcellus, his Phillippici 
 against Mark Anthony, his orations against Catiline, and 
 Pliny's Panegyric on Trajan : such also are the funeral ora- 
 tions composed by Thucydides and Plato, to commemorate 
 the virtue of the Athenians, who fell at the commencement 
 of tlie Peloponnesian war. In modern times, we have the 
 funeral discourses of many celebrated French and English 
 preachers ; the eloges pronounced upon eminent men, before 
 the French academy, and the occasional commendatory or 
 vituperative speeches, which have been delivered in the Brit- 
 ish senate, by a Chatham, a Fox, a Burke, a Pitt, and 
 many others, as well in the upper asi in the lower house 
 of Parliament. Most of these have, within the last twenty 
 years. Been collected and published in separate works, and 
 afford rich subjects of study to those who wish to become 
 acquainted with the principles of demonstrative eloquence. 
 
 Deliberative eloquence embraces, as its object, the whole 
 extent of public affairs, and has never been exercised in a 
 higher style, than in the senate of our own country. It 
 includes all discussions relating to war and peace : all poli- 
 tical negociations, foreign alliances, regulations of trade and 
 commerce, and, in general, all matters connected with legis- 
 lation and government. This species of eloquence cannot 
 be cultivated in any other than a free state. The will of 
 an arbitrary monarch supersedes its use, or terrifies it into 
 silence. It is, therefore, to the best states of Athens and 
 Home, that we must look for its energies as exhibited in 
 fuicient times, and in the works of Demosthenes and Cicero 
 are to be found its noblest memorials. In modem times, it 
 has, by the operation of political causes, been almost exclu- 
 sively confined to the limits of our own island. 
 
 Judicial eloquence comprehends every thing relating to the 
 business of the courts of law, both civil and criminal ; that 
 is, to the attack and defence of persons and property. In an- 
 pient times, the business of judicial pleading was not confined 
 to a particular class of men. The Roman orator was at all
 
 PROSE COMPOSITION. 171 
 
 drives ready to impeach a state criminal, or to plead in defence 
 of the life, the honour, or the fortune of his friend. This was 
 the period when the first characters of the republic displayed 
 their abilities at the bar; when Cicero and Hortensius gave 
 full scope to their superlative talents ; and, ni the proceedings 
 of the British courts of justice, there have, for a long series of 
 years, been exhibited proofs of the most searching sagacity, 
 the soundest judgment, and the most ready wit. 
 
 In regular orations of every species, there will generally be 
 found the exordium^ or introduction ; the statement of the 
 subject ; the narrative, or explanation ; the reasoning, or ar- 
 gument ; xhe pathetic part ; and, lastly, the peroration, or con- 
 clusion. On each of tlfese heads we shall say a few words, 
 referring to other and more elaborate works for a fuller illus- 
 tration, with examples. 
 
 The object of the exordium is* to conciliate the good-will 
 of the hearers, to awaken iheir attention, and to render them 
 open to persuasion. Cicero defines an exordium to be a part 
 of an oration, by which the minds of the audience are duly 
 prepared for what remains to be said. The exordium is a part 
 of chief importance, and is to be laboured with extraordinary 
 care ; hence it has been called " difficiilima pars orationis." 
 The topics by which the purposes of an exordium are best 
 effected, will generally suggest themselves to the good sensfe 
 of the speaker or writer : they arise from the particular situa- 
 tion of the speaker himself, or of his cause, or client ; or from 
 the character and behaviour of his antagonist, contrasted witfi 
 his own ; on other occasions, from the nature of the subject, 
 as closely connected with the interest of the hearers ; and, in 
 general, from the modesty and good intention with which the 
 speaker enters upon his subject ; to engage the attention of 
 the hearers, some hints may be thrown out respecting the im- 
 portance, dignity, and novelty of the subject ; and to render 
 them docile, or open to persuasion, the speaker should en- 
 /^eavour to remove any particular prepossessions or preju- 
 
 -^
 
 172 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 dice against the cause, or side of the argument which he 
 
 espouses. 
 
 The exordium requires propneii/ of address, that it may 
 appear easy and natural, and become of a piece with the 
 whole discourse, and match it as a part does the whole. It 
 was the rule of Cicero to make the exordium last ; and he 
 says, " when I have planned and digested all the materials of 
 my discourse, it is my custom to think, in the last place, of 
 the introduction with which I am to begin. For if, at any 
 time, I have endeavoured to invent an introduction first, no- 
 thing has ever occurred to me for that purpose, but what was 
 trifling, nugatory, and vulgar." Modesty is another requisite 
 in the exordium of a discourse : it sHpuld discover itself not 
 only in the expressions of the orator, in the beginning, but in his 
 whole manner, in his looks, in his gestures, and in the tone of 
 his voice. It should, however, be observed, that the modesty 
 of an introduction should never betray any thing mean or ab- 
 ject. The orator, while he exhibits real modesty and diffi- 
 dence, should manifest a becoming sense of dignity, arising 
 from a persuasion of the justice or importance of the subject 
 of which he is about to speak. Besides the qualities of pro- 
 priety and modesty, the exordium should be distinguished by 
 its brevity, by the easiness of the style, and by the calmness 
 of the manner. 
 
 In the proposition of the subject, the qualities chiefly to be 
 aimed at, are clearness and distinctness. These qualities are 
 of the most essential importance, and the attainment of them 
 is well worthy the utmost care and pains. In debates of every 
 kind, that speaker is listened to with the greatest pleasure, 
 ^o is able briefly and plainly to give the most accurate ac- 
 count of the points in question. 
 
 As the narrative^ or explanation of facts, is to be the 
 
 ground-work of all future reasonings of the orator, it is obvi- 
 
 ^ ously his duty to recount them in such a manner as may be 
 
 most favourable to his cause ^ to place in the most striking
 
 ?'.< 
 
 PR&ifi COMPOSITION. 173 
 
 light every circumstance which is to ^is advantage ; and to 
 soften or palliate such as make against him. He should exer- 
 cise consummate judgment, so that his narrative may be at 
 once concise and full, copious and distinct. A perfect narra- 
 tion is one, from which nothing can be taken without rendering 
 it obscure, and to which nothing can be added without weak- 
 ening its force. 
 
 In his arguments, a speaker should possess logic as a phi- 
 losopher, and employ it as an orator. He should follow the 
 lucid order of nature in their disposition, and express them in 
 such a style and manner as to give them full force. He should <^^'f 
 take care not to multiply them to too great an extent, and to ^ 
 bring into a conspicuous point of view those which are most 
 weighty and cogent. 
 
 In the pathetic part of his discourse, which generally intro- 
 duces and pervades the peroration, the ancient orator collected 
 all his talents to strike a finishing stroke. But Quintilian, with 
 his usual judgment, warns the orator against dwelling too long 
 upon this topic. " Tinje," he says, "soon calms real griefs ; 
 how much more easily must it dissipate the illusory impres- 
 sions which act only upon the imagination ! Let not, then, .,y 
 the pathetic strain be too long continued. If this precept be ^. <: 
 not well observed, the auditor is fatigued, he resumes his tran- 
 quillity, and recovering from the transitory emotion, he returns 
 under the influence of reason. We ought not, then, to suffer 
 his feelings to cool ; but when we have carried them as far as 
 they can go, we ought to stop, and not imagine that the mind 
 will for any long space of time be sensible to emotions which 
 are foreign to it." 0r 
 
 The precise nature of the peroration, or conclusion of any 
 discourse, must be determined, in a great measure, by the 
 nature and the circumstances under which it is delivered. It 
 is frequently expedient in this part of the discourse to com- 
 press a repetition of the substance of a long train of antecedent'^ 
 argument. The peroration, therefore, may generally be said 
 to consist of two parts ; first, a recapitulation, in which the
 
 174 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 substance of what is gone before, is collected briefly and cur- 
 sorily, and summed up with new force and weight : secondly, 
 the moving of the passions. The qualities required in a pero- 
 ration are, that it be vehement aud passionate, and that it be 
 short. Cicero particularly excelled in the peroration. In this 
 part of his discourse, that great orator not only set his judges 
 and auditors on fire, but even seemed to burn himself; espe- 
 cially when he was to raise pity and commiseration towards 
 the accused. The great rule of a conclusion, is to place that 
 last, in which we think the strength of the cause should rest. 
 Sermons commonly conclude with inferences : these should 
 rise naturally, and so much ^gree with the strain of sentiment 
 throughout the whole discourse, as not to break the uuity of 
 the sermon. Dr. Blair, in treating on this subject, says, *' it 
 is a matter of importance to biing our discourse just to a 
 point, neither ending abruptly and unexpectedly, nor disap- 
 pointing the hearers when they look for the close, and conti- 
 nuing to hover round the conclusion, till they become heartily 
 tired of us. We should endeavour to go off with a good 
 grace ; not to end with a languishing and drawling sentence ; 
 but to close with dignity and spirit, that we may leave the 
 minds of the hearers warm, and dismiss them with a favourable 
 impression of the subject and of the speaker." 
 
 The conclusion of !Mr. Burke's address to the electors of 
 Bristol, when he was about to quit the hustuigs, at the elec- 
 tion of 1780, has been given as a fine instance of peroration: 
 " It has been usual for a candidate who dechnes, to take leave 
 by a letter to the sheriffs ; but I received your trust in the face 
 of day, and in the face of day I accept your dismission. I 
 am not I am not at all ashamed to look upon you ; nor can 
 my presence discompose the order of business here. I hum- 
 bly and respectfully take my leave of the sheriffs, the candi- 
 dates, and the electors, wishing heartily that the choice may 
 be for the best, at a time w hich calls, if ever time did call, for 
 the service that is not nominal. It is no play-thing you are 
 about. J tremble when 1 consider the Uwit I have presumed
 
 PRO^ COMPOSITION. 175 
 
 to ask. I confided, perhaps, too much in my intentions^ 
 They were really fair and upright ; and I am bold to say, that 
 I ask no ill thing for you, when, on parting from this place, 
 I pray, that whoever you choose to succeed me, may resemble 
 me exactly in all things, excepting my abilities to serve, and 
 my fortune to please you.'' 
 
 ^
 
 CHAP XII. 
 
 '* 
 
 OF POETRY. 
 
 Poetty, in what first used Its excellencies pointed oat Poetic represen. 
 tatioD, how effected Of ancient poetry Classical poetry: Homer; 
 Lyrical composition; the heroic ode; Dramatic poetry Roman poets; 
 Eonius, Virgil, Ovid, Tibollus, &c. 
 
 r OETRY is unquestionably the oldest, and the most excel- 
 lent of the fine arts. It was the first fixed form of language ; 
 the earliest perpetuation of thought ; it existed before prose 
 in history, before music in melody, and before painting in 
 description. *At a very early period of the world it was em- 
 ployed to celebrate the praises of the Almighty, to communi- 
 cate lessons of wisdom, and to extol the achievements of va- 
 lour: music was invented to accompany, and painting, to illus- 
 trate it. Poetry transcends all other literary compositions, in 
 harmony, beauty and splendour of style, imagery and thought, 
 as well as in the permanency and vivacity of its iufiuonce on 
 the mind, for its language and sentiments are so intimately 
 connected, that they are remembered together: it excels 
 music in the passion and pathos of its movements ; and being 
 progressive, it is superior to painting, which is stationary in 
 its powers of description. The energies of painting are more 
 confined to those objects that can be represented by colour 
 and figure. Poetry can express these objects, though in an 
 inferior degree ; but the deficiency b compensated by the ex-
 
 t POETRY. - 177 
 
 tensive range of the poet's excursions. He dives into the 
 human breast, developes the windings of the heart, pourtrays 
 ^le workings of the passions, gives form and body to the most 
 abstract idea's, and, by the language which he puts into the 
 mouths of his characters, unlocks the secrets of their mind. 
 Another grand advantage, to which we have alluded, and 
 which the poet possesses over the painter, is that the latter is 
 confined to transactions that happen in an instant of time, 
 while the former presents to the view a long series of events, 
 " An interesting picture," says a writer on this subject, "might, 
 no doubt, be drawn of the pious agony with which JEneas 
 witnessed the obstinacy of his father, in refusing to save him- 
 self from the sword of the Greeks, by quitting his ancient and 
 long-loved abode. But what a varied pleasure do we expe- 
 rience in reading of the circumstances that preceded and that 
 followed this event ; in tracing the steps of the duteous son 
 from the palace of Priam to his father's mansion ; and in be- 
 holding him at length bearing his parent beyond the rea'ch of 
 the foe. Since every finished composition should have a be- , 
 ginning, a middle, and an end, so the mind feels a superior 
 degree of satisfaction, when the rise, the circumstances, and 
 the consequences of events are displayed before it in artful 
 order. Poetry can eflfect this ; but, in painting, the present 
 only exists ; the past and the future are wanting." 
 
 Moreover, poetic representation is effected not merely by 
 words, but by words metrically, or, at least, melodiously ar- 
 ranged : this is the exterior distinction ; but too many writers 
 seem to assign to it a place of eminence,- to which it is by no 
 means entitled. Poetry, if it deserv^^he title, must include 
 something more than thfe " mere measuring of syllables, and 
 the tagging of a verse." If the heart do not glow with the 
 flame of genius, the mechanism of art will be unavailing. No 
 one can excite strong feelings in others, who is not himself 
 strongly excited ; no one can raise vivid images in the mind 
 of his reader, who is not himself illumined by the sportive light 
 of fancy. 
 
 VOL. I. *^ N 
 
 
 
 Mm
 
 178 BELLES LETTRfes. 
 
 The poet should never forget, that the end of poetry is to 
 amu^e the taiicy and p<>werfully excite the feelings, which will 
 be best effected by impressing the mind with the most vivid 
 pictures. " The primary aim of the poet," says Dr. Blair, 
 *' is to please and to move ; and, therefore, it is to the imagi- 
 nation and the passions that he speaks. He may, and he ought 
 to have it in his view, to instruct and to inform ; but it is in- 
 directly, and by pleasing and moving, that he accomplishes this 
 end. His mind is supposed to be animated by some interest- 
 ing object, which fires the imagination, or engages his pas- 
 sions ; and which, of course, communicates to his style a pe- 
 culiar elevation, suited to his ideas, very different from that 
 mode- of expression, which is natural to the mind in its calm 
 and ordinary state." 
 
 As, then, the chief end of poetry is to make a lively impres- 
 sion on the feelings, we may in some measure estimate the 
 vastness (f its powers; and in this respect facts will corres- 
 pond "with pre-conceived theory. In consequence of the effi- 
 cacy of poetry upon the human feelings, the maxims of early 
 wisdom, the first records of history, and even the dictates of 
 law, were delivered in a poetic dress. " In the infancy of 
 states, poetHf is a method equally captivating and powerful in 
 forming the dispositions of the people, and kindling in their 
 hearts that love of glory, which is their country's safeguard in 
 the day of peril. Whether we look to the cold regions of 
 Scandinavia, or the delicious clime of Greece ; whether we 
 contemplate the North American Indian, or the wild Arab of 
 the desert ; it will be found that, when mankind have made a 
 certain progress in society, they are strongly influenced by the 
 love of song, and listen with raptured attention to the strains 
 that record the tale of other times, and the deeds of heroes of 
 oM. They listen till they imbibe the enthusiasm of warfare, 
 and, in the day of battle, the hero's arm has not unfrequently 
 been nerved by the rough energy of the early bard." 
 
 It is a well-known fact, that the Greeks were accustomed to 
 march to the fight while singing in praise of Apollo ; and that
 
 POETRY. 179 
 
 the songs written in honour of Harmodius and Aristogiton, by 
 being habitually recited at their banquets and solemn festivals, 
 tended in no inconsiderable degree to preserve among the 
 Athenians an enthusiastic love of liberty. Nor is the power 
 of the muses done away by tlie progress of civilization. 
 Every nation, at every period of its existence, possesses some 
 indigenous poetry, which nourishes the flame of patriotism. 
 Such is the wonderful influence of poetical composition; and 
 when directed to worthy objects, it is one of the most pleasant 
 and most efficacious means of forming the youthful mind, and 
 of exciting the emotions, and enforcing the principles of virtue. 
 Having said so much concerning poetry in general, we shall 
 proceed to give an account of the different kinds of poetry, 
 for which we shall be much indebted to an article in a very 
 popular work. ' 
 
 Of ancient Poetry. That the higher order of poetry is 
 attainable in an early stage of society, is a truth eminently illus- 
 trated by the example of the Hebrew people. It is evident 
 that the bards of this nation composed their lofty songs for a 
 primitive race, tenacious of its customs and opinions, unen- 
 lightened by science, uncorrected by taste, and as little ac- 
 quainted with the arts, as the refinements of polished life. The 
 simplicity and energy of the Hebrew language accorded hap- 
 pily with the sublime nature of sacred poetry ; and to the 
 peculiarities in its constitution it is perhaps owing, that the pri- 
 mitive character of its composition is tenaciously preserved to 
 whatever language transferred, or with whatever idioms assi- 
 milated. The distinctive feature of Hebrew poetry was a 
 symmetrical disposition of the sentences, which were cast into 
 parallel verses of equal length, and correspondent in sense and 
 sound; the sentiment expressed in the first distich, being repeated 
 and amplified in the second, as in the following examples : 
 
 The Lord rewardeth me according to my righteousness : 
 According to the cleanness of my band he hath recompensed me. 
 The fear of the Lord is clean, enduring for ever : 
 The judgments of the Lord are pure and righteous altogether. 
 N 2
 
 180 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 This practice, which was, perhaps, peculiar to the Hebrews, 
 was derived from their rites of worship, in which the sacred 
 hymns were chaunted by bauds of singers, who alternately 
 responded to each other. The Hebrew bards employ few 
 epithets ; but the brevity of their style renders its sublimity 
 conspicuous ; their imagery is bold and energetic ; their ima- 
 gination is ever rich and exuberant ; and to them, metaphors 
 spontaneously arise on every subject, in inexhaustible beauty 
 and fertility. Although Hebrew poetry presents nothing that 
 can properly be classed with epic or dramatic composition, it 
 affords innumerable examples of the lyric, the elegiac, aiMl 
 the didactic style. In the prophecies, the favourite figure is 
 allegory : the Hebrews, in commor\.widi other Oriental na-r 
 tions, liad a decided predilection for the parabolic species of 
 writing; their images are highly natural, and, on minute 
 examination, they will be found to have harmonized with 
 scenes and manners familiar to their observation and expe- 
 rience. 
 
 The figure, however, which elevates beyond all others the 
 poetical style of the Scriptures, is the prosopopoeia, or perso- 
 nification ; and it is certain, that the personifications of the 
 sacred writings exceed in boldness and sublimity eveiy thing 
 that can be found in other poems. This is especially the case 
 when any appearance or operation of the Almighty is con- 
 cerned, as the following examples will prove : " Before Him 
 went the pestilence. The waters saw Thee, O God, and were 
 afraid. The mountains saw Thee, and they trembled. The 
 deep uttered his voice, and Hfted up his hands on high." Of 
 the sacred Poets, the most eminent are, the author of the 
 Book of Job, David, and the Prophet Isaiah. In the dif- 
 ferent compositions of David, there is a great variety of style 
 and manner. He excels in the soft and tender ; but there are 
 likewise many lofty passages in the Book of Psalms. In 
 strength of description, he yields to Job ; and, in sublimity, 
 he is inferior to Isaiah. The most sublime of all poets, with- 
 out exception, is Isaiah, whom Dr. Lowth compares to
 
 POETRY. 181 
 
 Homer ; Jeremiah, he compares to Simonides ; and Ezekiel, to 
 ^schyhis. Among the minor prophets, Hosea, Joel, Micah, 
 Habakkuk, and more particularly Nahum, are eminent for 
 poetical spirit. The Book of Job is extremely ancient, but 
 the author is uncertain. It is remarkable, that it has no sort 
 of connexion with the affairs, or the manners of the Jews and , ; / 
 
 Hebrews. Its poetry is highly descriptive. It abounds in a ' 
 
 peculiar glow of fancy and metaphor. Whatever the author 
 treats of, he renders visible. The scene is laid in the land of 
 Uz, or Idumaea, which is a part of Arabia ; and the imagery 
 employed in it differs from that which is peculiar to the He- 
 brews. 
 
 The Arabs were not, like the Hebrews, a stationary people, 
 and insulated from the rest of mankind : they engaged in com- 
 merce and war, and, in their intervals of leisure, were no less 
 ambitious to obtain poetical distinction, than they had been to 
 secure military fame. With them, poetry became a polite ac- 
 complishment ; and as the copiousness of their language sup- 
 plied all the aptitudes of numbers, it is not surprising that ,.--,<Ly.i 
 bards should be found even in th^ir deserts. The distich, and 
 some other forms of metrical composition, adapted to familiar 
 occasions, were of Arabian invention ; and it is thought by 
 Sir William Jones, that rhymes were borrowed from Eastern 
 literature by the poets of Spain and Portugal, through whose 
 influence they were naturalized in Europe. 
 
 With the copiousness and jlexibility of the Arabic, the Per- 
 sian language is found to possess an amenity and an elegance, 
 which render it eminentlj^ susceptible of poetical beauty. Its 
 poets, like those of ancient Greece, have the power of ren- 
 dering language subservient to their pleasure, and of clothing 
 original conceptions in newly created words. Several of the " ^ 
 
 Arabic and Persian poems are of the epic and dramatic cast ; 
 but the compositions most familiar to the European, are of an ( " 
 amatory, elegiac, and lyric character. In general, Oriental 
 poetry deviates from the primitive simplicity so conspicuous in 
 

 
 182 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 Hebrew compositions, and often degenerates into affectation 
 and bombast. 
 
 Of classical Poetry. It is not possible to ascertain, with 
 any degree of f>recision, the causes which have given to ancient 
 Greece a pre-eminence in this department of Hieraiure. From 
 the susceptibihty of his language, the poet was enabled to ex- 
 hibit the same idea under a new aspect, and to give to eVery 
 fluctuation of feeling a permanent expression. If the vivacity 
 of his descriptions fascinated the imagination, his numbers 
 dwelt with no less enchantment on the ear. The length and 
 sbortnAs of syllables in the Greek and Roman languages, 
 which constituted their quantities, were determined by rules 
 no less accurate than the notes in music ; and on the proper 
 distribution and adjustment of these quantities, the harmony of 
 their metre depended. A slated interval of time was allowed 
 to the pronunciation of every verse ; and to facilitate the labour 
 of composition, artificial combinations of syllables, by the 
 name of feet, were invented ; and by the numbers of these, 
 and the quantities included in them, the character of the verse 
 was ascertained. To these combinations various names Vere 
 given ; the most important were the spondee, composed of two 
 long syllables ; and the dactyl, formed by one long and two 
 short syllables. These were employed in hexameter verse, 
 of which an imitation has been vainly attempted in the ug- 
 lish language. 
 
 It is not certain what species of poetry was first cultivated 
 in Greece. Fables were undoubtedly of great antiquity ; the 
 pde formed a part of religious worship ; and the pastoral must 
 have been introduced in an age sufficiently refined to relish 
 simplicity. Tlie Iliad and the Odyssey of Homer were com- 
 posed at an early epoch of Grecian literature, and transmitted 
 by oral tradition to a more polished age. Homer, of all the 
 poets, our own Shakespeare excepted, ma> be considered as the 
 poet of nature. His very epithets are beautiful and expressive.
 
 * POETRY. 183 
 
 and peculiarly appropriated to the character or objects which 
 they describe ; and they are so picturesque, that they often 
 exhibit more in a single word, than can be found elsewhere in 
 a much larger description. His allusions to the sea are fre- 
 quent, and the ferociousness of his warriors is often compared 
 to that of wild beasts, which give peculiar force and variety 
 to his descriptions. Vast, violent, and loud motions are best 
 described by Homer; smooth, gentle, or graceful ones, by 
 Virgil : while, therefore, the latter poet excels in grace and 
 beauty, the other transcends in descriptions of terror and sub- 
 limity. Upon the whole. Homer is at once majestic and 
 simple; various, dramatic, and full of incident; highly de- 
 scriptive and picturesque, yet natural ; master of the most 
 commanding strokes of the pathetic, and dwelling upon them 
 when occasion requires ; always moral, thopgh apparently 
 without design. The Iliad, though, at first view, and, to an 
 inattentive reader, it may appear a rhapsody of battles, high 
 passions, and characters formed without due discrimination, is 
 nevertheless a most regular piece, and there is no poem in the 
 world constructed with greater art and judgment. When cri- 
 tically examined, its time of action will be found regularly 
 conducted ; every part of it is seen connected with another, in 
 due succession : it begins with the anger of Achilles, and ends 
 with the death of Hector, when that anger ceased. All the 
 parts rise out of each other in a natural, but surprising gra- 
 dation ; and every action has a manifest tendency either to 
 elucidate or enforce the subject of the poem, exalt the 
 principal character, or promote the design of the whole. 
 
 It has been pretended, that the Iliad and Odyssey of 
 Homer were composed at different aeras, by various authors ; 
 and that these desultory tales of Troy were at length collected 
 by some ingenious person, who might have been distinguished 
 by the appellation of Homer. It is, however, generally ad- 
 mitted, that one excellence in which the poet is supposed to 
 stand uurivalled, is the energy of his conceptions, which
 
 184 BELLES LKTTRES. 
 
 gives to his personages, bis scenes, and his descriptions, a 
 real and individual existence. So happily, indeed are his 
 characters cast, that uo reader of fetling can be at a loss to 
 conceive how Achilles uould look, or Nestor speak, or 
 Ulysses act on any given occasion. This being admitted, and 
 it may be asked, whether such harmony of design could have 
 been the result of chance, or whether each book had its sepa- 
 rate Homer, or whether they were not all planned and exe- 
 cuted by the same mind. 
 
 In lyrical composition, tlie most popular was the heroic 
 ode. The name of Pindar has come down to us with great 
 honour ; but the poems which inspired in his compatriots the 
 most exalted enthusiasm, are very imperfectly understood by 
 the moderns. The public recitation of the ode was accompa- 
 Died by music and dancing; a circumstance to which its 
 structure is obviously adapted. The two first stanzas, called 
 the strophe and antistrophe, were of equal length. In the 
 first part, the performers approached the altars of their god; 
 in the latter, the dance being inverted, they measured back 
 their steps to their former place, where they sung the epode. 
 This form was peculiar to the heroic ode ; but there were 
 other lyrical compositions of a different cast. Sappho's poems 
 breathe only the tender, impassioned sentiment ; those of 
 Anacreou are equally remote from the sublimity of Pindar, 
 and the softness of Sappho. 
 
 The heroic ode is evidentfy of a dramatic character, and 
 was the source from whence the regular drama was produced. 
 7Vagedy originated in the hymns sung in honour of Bacchus, 
 and its name was derived from the goat, which was the vic- 
 tim consecrated to that deity. ITie imention of the dialogue 
 and. action belongs to iEschyhis ; the orighial ode was pre- 
 served in the chorus, which constituted the popular part of 
 the entertainment. The chorus, like the band of a modern 
 orchestra, was composed of several persons, who recited in 
 a different maimer from tlie other performers. Their busir-
 
 POETRY. . 185 
 
 ness was to deduce from the passing scene some lesson of 
 morality, or to inculcate on the spectator some religious 
 precept. 
 
 Comedy, like tragedy, originally consisted of a chorus, 
 which derived its name from the god Comus. The rudi- 
 ments of the comic art may, it is thought, be detected in the 
 satyrs, a sort of interlude annexed to tragedies, in which the 
 scene was rural, and the personages, satyrs or sylvan deities. 
 It was not till the time of Aristophanes, that living characters 
 were introduced on the stage. This abuse a better taste cor- 
 rected ; and the .comedies of Menander, which were after- 
 wards imitated by Terence, exhibited interesting scenes of 
 domestic life. The chorus was gradually changed into the 
 prologue, a personage who carefully apprized the spectators 
 of all they were to see on the stage. 
 
 The Roman writers were modelled on those of Greece, and 
 it was long before they attempted to emulate their masters ; 
 but Ennius produced the satire. With equal originality, 
 Lucretius wrote his metaphysical poem, in which are deve- 
 loped the philosophical systems of his age. It was not till the 
 sera of Augustus that Horace transplanted all the lyric beau- 
 ties to his odes, opened a rich vein of satiric poetry ; and 
 Virgil, having equalled Theocritus, aspired to emulate Homer. 
 He frequently fell short of his master ; his characters do not 
 possess the same features of durability, and his scenes are not 
 equally animated and dramatic. To atone, however, for these 
 defects, he unites every charm that gives interest to narrative, 
 or lends enchantment to description. He rises occasionally to 
 the sublime ; but the beautiful is his natural element ; he can 
 excite terror, but he is more prone to inspire tenderness and 
 pity. In the Georgics, Virgil has left a model of didactic 
 composition, ennobled by a strain of philosophical sentiment, 
 pure, graceful, and persuasive. 
 
 Ovid adorned the fables of mythology with description, and 
 illustrated in his epistles almost every romantic story of anti- 
 quity. The style of his elegies is not unlike that of his 
 
 ^'
 
 186 . BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 epistles : he paints to the eye, but he has often too rauch wit 
 and fancy to affect tlie heart. Tibullus has exceeded every 
 other elegiac writer in simplicity and tenderness. Lucan and 
 Statins were also epic poets ; but they are not often read. 
 LiUcan possessed a fine genius, but his subject was unfor- 
 tunate. Among the latter poets of Rome were Juvenal and 
 Persius, of whom the former was one of the most original 
 if\Titers she had produced. 
 

 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 POETRY, 
 
 Continued. 
 
 Origin of modern poetry English versification. 
 
 The Gothic nations which over-ran Rome, and the countries 
 subjected to it, though ignorant of the poHte arts, were not 
 insensible to the charms of poetry. Their bards were no less 
 venerated than their priests ; and whatever instruction they re:- 
 ceived ; whatever knowledge they possessed, was communicated -^ 
 in metre, and probably in rhyme. In the age of Charlemagne, 
 the minstrels of Provence, or, as they were called, the Trou- 
 badours, introduced the metrical tales or ballads, which, from 
 the dialect in which they were written, acquired the name of 
 Romances. The poems were all composed in rhyme ; but 
 whether this practice was borrowed from the Arabs or the 
 Goths is uncertain, 
 
 Mr. Ellis (see his introduction to " Specimens of early 
 English Metrical Romances") has given an account of the rise 
 and progress of the minstrels and their poetry. From whichT?: 
 it appears, that Normandy was the cradle of minstrelsy. The 
 Northmen, who wrested that province from the feeble suc- 
 cessors of Charlemagne, had, like all other barbarous people, 
 especially the Scandinavian tribes, their national poets. These, 
 it is believed, were carried by RoUo into France; where they
 
 4 
 188 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 probably introduced a certain number of their native tradi- 
 tions, relating to their lierocs, who were afterwards enlisted 
 into tlie tales of chivalry. Being compelled to a frequent exer- 
 cise of their talent in extemporaneous compositions, the min- 
 strels were probably like the improvisatori of Italy, and be- 
 came good judges of the public taste. By the progress of 
 translation, they became the depo^taries of nearly all the 
 knowledge of the age, which was committed to their memory : 
 it was natural, therefore, that they should form a variety of new 
 combinations from the numerous materials in their possession ; 
 and many of our most popular romances were probably 
 brought by their efforts to the state in which we now see 
 them. 
 
 Facts in history prove, that the profession of a minstrel was 
 held in great reverence among the Saxon tribes, as well as 
 among their Danish brethren. Alfred, in 878, wishing to 
 ascertain the true situation of the Danish army, which had in- 
 vaded his realm, assumed the dress and character of a min- 
 strel ; and, under this character, though he could not but be 
 known to be a Saxon, ^obtained an honourable reception. 
 About sixty years after, a Danish king made use of the same 
 disguise to explore the camp of our king Athelstan. The 
 minstrel was, therefore, a privileged character with both these, 
 people. In the reign of Edward II. thp minstrels were ad- 
 mitted into the royal presence, an instance of which is men- 
 tioned by Stow. In the fourth year of Richard II. John of 
 Gaunt erected a court of minstrels, with full power to receive 
 suit and service from the men of this profession, within five 
 neighbouring counties, to enact laws and determine controver- 
 sies, 8lc., for which they had a charter. 
 
 The first compositions of the minstrels appear to have been 
 unadorned annals or histories, reduced to measure, for the 
 convenience of the reciter, who was to retain them upon his 
 memory. Their poems were all composed in rhyme ; but 
 whether this practice was borrowed from the Arabs or the 
 Goths is uncertain. The Italian language, which, of all the
 
 POETRY. 189 
 
 corrupt dialects introduced by the barbarians, assimilated most 
 with the Roman, soon acquired a tincture of elegance. Dante 
 wrote in the middle ages ; Ariosto followed ; and Peirarch 
 appeared among the first founders of modern literature. The 
 passion for allegory, so long the characteristic of the Italian 
 school, was by Chaucer rendered as prevalent in England as it 
 had previously been on the continent. During several age;?, 
 Italy continued to be the Poet's land of Europe ; and in that 
 interval was produced the " Jerusalem Delivered," a poem of 
 great merit, and which still maintains a high character in mo- 
 dern literature. In Spain, poetry was early cultivated, but 
 without much attention to classical taste. In France, it did 
 Hot emerge from barbarism till the reign of Francis the First, 
 and it arrived at its highest perfection in the aera of Louis 
 XIV. La Fontaine and Boileau, Corneilie and Racine had, 
 at this period, produced works destined to immortalize their 
 names. The modern drama originated in the Mysteries, a 
 sort of religious farce imported from the East : to the myste- 
 ries succeeded allegorical plays, denominated Moralities. 
 These produced the Mask, which became the favourite amuse- 
 ment of the court in the time of Charles I., and is redeemed 
 from oblivion by Milton's Comus. Till the commencement 
 of the last century, the German language was almost a stranger 
 to poetry. Klopstock invented hexameter verse; and from 
 that period many fine \vriters have arisen in Germany, distin- 
 guished for poetic taste, genius, and real talents. 
 
 Of English versification. In our own language, versifica- 
 tion does not depend on the quantities, or the length and short- 
 ness of the syllables, but on the modulation of the accents, 
 and the disposition of the pauses ; to which is generally, though ^ 
 not universally, added, the recurrence of rhyme. The heroic 
 verse consists of ten syllables, and its harmony is produced by 
 a certain proportionate distribution of accented and unaccented 
 syllables. Its specific character, whether lively or solemn, 
 5oft or slow, is determined by their order and arrangement,
 
 190 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 When the unaccented and accented syllables are regularly alter- 
 natedj it is called Iambic verse, as 
 
 A shepherd's boy, he seeks no higher name, 
 Led forth his flock beside the silver Thame. 
 
 With regard to the place of these accents, some liberty is 
 admitted, for the sake of variety. Sometimes the line begins 
 with an unaccented syllable ; and sometimes two unaccented 
 syllables follow each other. In general, there are either five, 
 or four accented syllables in each line. The number of sylla- 
 bles is ten, unless where an Alexandrian verse, or one of 
 twelve syllables, is occasionally admitted. Dryden was too 
 fond of introducing the Alexandrian line, to which Pope refers: 
 
 A needless Alexandrine ends the song. 
 
 Which , like a wounded snake, drags its slow length alonf . 
 
 Nevertheless, it often forms a noble termination, of which the 
 
 following is an instance : 
 
 Teach me to love and to forgive ; 
 
 Exact my own defects to scan, 
 
 What others are to feel, and know myself a man. 
 
 When the unaccented is preceded by an accented syllable, 
 it is called a trochaic verse ; as. 
 
 Ambition first sprung from the blest abodes; 
 
 The frequent intervention of the trochaic is apt to produce 
 harshness, which is carefully to be avoided. 
 
 Another essential circumstance in the constitution of Eng- 
 lish Verse, is the caesural pause which falls towards the middle 
 of each line. It is by the freedom with which this pause is 
 transferred from one syllable to another, that the monotony 
 that might be expected to result from a succession of Iambic 
 lines is obviated : a freedom which constitutes the charm, and 
 produces all the variety of our Verse. * The pause or cassura 
 is that interval of suspension which must naturally arise in every 
 verse ; it is in fact found in the Verse of most nations. Pains 
 have been taken to point it out in the Latin Hexameter. Id
 
 POETRY. 191 
 
 the French Heroic verse of twelve syllables it is very sensible, 
 and falls in every line just after the sixth syllable, regularly and 
 indispensably, dividing the line into two equal hemisticks, the 
 one half always answering to the other, and the same chime re- 
 turning incessuntly on the ear without intermission or change, 
 which is a defect in their verse. In our own, it is a distin- 
 guishing advantage, that it allows the pause to be varied 
 through four different syllables in the line. The pause may 
 fall after the fourth, the fifth, the sixth, or the seventh syllable ; 
 and according as it is placed after one or other of these syl- 
 lables, the melody of the verse is much changed, and its air 
 and cadence are diversified. 
 
 When the pause falls after the fourth syllable, which is gene- 
 rally the earliest part on which it can fall, the briskest melody 
 is formed, and the most spirited air given to the line; of 
 which the following are instances : 
 
 Soft is the strain | when zephyr gently blows. 
 
 And the smooth stream | in smoother numbers flows. 
 
 On her white breast [ a sparkling cross she wore. 
 Which Jews might kisS, | and Infidels adore ; 
 Her lively looks, [ a sprightly mind disclose. 
 Quick as her eyes, 1 and as unfix'd as those. 
 Favours to none, | to all she smiles extends. 
 Oft she rejects | but never once offends. 
 
 When the pause falls after the fifth syllable, which divides 
 the line into two equal portions, the verse loses that brisk and 
 sprightly air, which it had with the former pause, and be- 
 comes more smooth, gentle, and flowing : 
 
 Eternal sunshine | of the spotless mind, 
 
 Each prayer accepted | and each wish resign'^. 
 
 When the pause follows the sixth syllable, the tenor of the 
 music becomes solemn and grave, and the verse proceeds with 
 a more slow and measured pace. But the grave and solemn 
 cadence becomes still more sensible, when the pause falls after 
 the seventh syllable, which is the nearest place to the end of the
 
 192 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 line that it can Mell occupy. This kind of verse occurs but 
 seldom, and it j)rodutes that slow Alexandrian air, which is 
 suited to a close. N<Hwithstanding what has been said, the 
 pause may occasionally dwtU on the first, the second, or even 
 penuiliuiaie syllable. The following may be given as instances 
 to elucidate these observations ; 
 
 Me I let tbe tender office long engage, 
 To rock the cradle of declining age. 
 
 O friend ! may each domestic bliss be thine. 
 Be no unpleasing melancholy | mine. 
 
 When the pause falls on the second syllable, the verse is 
 frequently accelerated, as : 
 
 Not so I when swift Camilla scours the plain. 
 
 A second pause in the same line is sometimes happily in> 
 tTQduced : 
 
 O ever beanteons | ever lovely ! | tell 
 Is it ill heaven, a crime to love too well ! 
 
 Triplets often occur in heroic verse, particularly in the works 
 of Dryden, but they are now generally avoided by correct 
 writers. 
 
 In English verse, we have different kinds of stanzas, as well 
 as difft;rent kinds of verses. Ilie stanza of nine lines in 
 imitation of the Italian was introduced by Spenser, and that 
 of eight lines such as Spenser employs, was generally used 
 in the reign of Elizabeth and her immediate successors, James 
 and Charles. Waller was the first who brought couplets into 
 use, and Dryden established the practice. 
 
 The most popular stanza is tliat appropriate to the ballad, 
 which is composed of four lines, of which the rhymes are 
 ranged alternately. Such is the measure of Goldsmith's 
 beautiful tale of Edwin and Angelina :
 
 rOETRY. J9.J 
 
 Turn, gentle hermit of the dale, 
 ^ And guide my lonely way. 
 
 To wliere yon taper cliecrs the vale 
 With hospitable ray. 
 
 Such, with the remission of rhyme in the first and third 
 lines, is the measure of Chevy-Chase : 
 
 God prosper long onr noble king, 
 , Our lives and safetyes all ; 
 
 A woeful hunting once there did 
 la Chevy-Cliasc befal. 
 
 The elegiac stanza, consisting of four alternately responsive 
 lines of ten syllables each, is well adapted to short poems : the 
 celebrated elegy of Gray, is an example of this kind of 
 stanza : 
 
 Tlie cuifew tolls the knell of parting day, 
 Tlie lowing herds wind slowly o'er the lea. 
 The ploughman homeward plods his weary 'way, 
 And leaves the world to darkness and to me. 
 
 In Hammond's elegies, this kind of stanza is displayed to 
 
 great advantage : 
 
 Why should the lover quit his pleasing home. 
 In search of danger on some foreign ground ? 
 Or from his weeping fair ungrateful roam, 
 And risk in every stroke a double wound ? 
 
 The simplest and most fluent of all verse is the couplet of 
 eight syllables. It is often appropriated to ludicrous poetry, as 
 in some of Swift's pieces, and in Butler's Hudibras ; the fol- 
 lowing lines give a good specimen : 
 
 When civil dudgeon first grew high, 
 And men fell out, they knew not why ; 
 When hard words, jealousies and fears. 
 Set folks together by the ears; 
 And made them fight, like mad or drunk, 
 For dame Religion, as for punk ; 
 Whose honesty tiiey all durst swear for, 
 Tliough not a man of them knew wherefore. 
 VOL, I. O
 
 194 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 Tliis kind of verse is however used on more serious oc- 
 casions, and seems well adapted to tender expression. The 
 Allegro and Penseroso of Milton are written in this measure : 
 
 , And may at length my weary age 
 
 Find out a peaceful liermitage ; 
 Tlie hairy govrn and mossy cell, 
 Where I may sit, and rightly spell 
 Of every star that heaven doth shew. 
 And every herb that sips the dew, 
 Till old experience do attain 
 To something like prophetic strain. 
 
 The dactyl or anapaestic measure of eleven aiwl twelve 
 syllables, and some of less, is appropriated to humorous sub- 
 jects, especially songs : 
 
 My time, O ye Muses, was happily spent, 
 * When Phcebe was with me wherever I went. 
 
 This measure, when worked into a stanza, assugaes a dif- 
 ferent character, as in the war-song of Burns : 
 
 'Tis night, and the landscape is lovely no more: 
 
 I mourn, but, ye Moodlands, I mourn not for you ; 
 For mora is npproaching, your charms to restore, 
 
 Pcrfum'd with fresh fragrance, and glittering with dew. 
 Nor yet for the ravage of winter I mourn ; 
 
 Kind nature, the embryo blossom will save : 
 But when shall spring visit the mouldering urn? 
 
 Oil ! when shall it dawn on the night of tlie grave? 
 
 In the stanza employed by Cowper, constructed on similar 
 principles, tlie syllables are less numerous, and tlie cadence is, 
 in general, more harmonioijs : 
 
 I am monarch of all I sonrey, 
 
 My right there b none to dispute; 
 From the centre, all round to the sea, 
 
 1 am lord of the fowl aod the brute.
 
 POETRY. 195 
 
 Of Blank verse. Our blank verse possesses great advaii- 
 tageSj^ and may be reckoned a noble^ bold, and disencum- 
 bered species of versification. The chief defect in rhyme is 
 the full close which it forces upon the ear, at the end of every 
 couplet. Blank verse is freed from this ; and allows the 
 lines to run into each other, with as great a liberty as occurs 
 in the Latin hfxameter. Hence it is adapted to subjects 
 of dignity and force, which demand more free and manly 
 numbers than can be obtained in rhyme. It is composed of 
 lines of ten syllables, which flow into each other without the 
 intervention of rhymes. Its metrical principle resides in its 
 pauses, which should be so spread as never to sufi'er the rhyme 
 to be missed. Of the few poets who have attempted and 
 succeeded in this species of composition, Milton is unques- 
 tionably the first ; and after him, Thomson, Armstrong, Aken- 
 side and Cowper, take the next rank, and are indeed 'pre- 
 eminent. Milton's verse is unequalled, it dilates with the 
 author's thoughts, it harmonizes with the reader's sentiment, 
 and its varied cadence rolls with majesty, or falls in a melli- 
 fluent strain of melody on the delighted ear. The following 
 is a fine specimen : it is Adam's address to Eve : 
 
 -Awake, 
 
 My fairest, my espous'd, my latest found, 
 
 Heaven's last best gift, my ever-new delight, 
 
 Awake ! the morning sliines, and the fresh field 
 
 Calls lis: we lose the prime, to mark how spring 
 
 Onr tended plants, how blows the citron grove. 
 
 What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed, 
 
 How nature paints her colours, how the bee 
 
 Sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweet. Book t. 
 
 Mr. Crowe, the public Orator of Oxford, has endeavoured 
 to account for. the excellence of Milton's verse, and he refers 
 the principle of|pits exquisite mechanism, to the author's bold 
 practice of distributing in separate lines, words that are so 
 nearly connected, such as the preposition governing the noun, 
 and the pronoun attached to the verb, as almost to appear iu- 
 
 o 2
 
 196 BELLES LETTRESV 
 
 divisible. " That this practice," says another critic, " wfeicif 
 Mr. Crowe calls the breaking the natural joiyit of the sett" 
 tence, is favourable to the freedom of blank verse, cannot be 
 disputed ; but it may be questioned whether the poet was 
 himself conscious of the mechanism which he employed, or 
 that he was directed by any other principle than his own acute 
 sensibility to harmony." 
 
 Whether rhyme or blank verse be entitled to pre-eminence, 
 is a question not easily determined. In the choice of his 
 measure the poet must be influenced by the nature of his sub- 
 ject. In all gay and airy excursions of fancy, or the lighter 
 touches of feeling, rhyme will be found an auxiliary equally 
 pleasing and important : likewise in such compositions as require 
 a measure of spirited and vivacious nwvement. " To satire 
 it adds poignancy, to humour it gives elegance; it imparts 
 renovation to old ideas, and lends attraction to trivial sen- 
 timents; it renders familiar illustration graceful, and plain 
 sense eloquent." Wherever much originality of thought exists, 
 this metrical charm is unnecessary ; and where imaginatioii 
 reigns in luxuriance, it may be well resigned to Uank verse.
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 POETRY, 
 
 Continued. 
 
 Of the tbonghts and language of poetry Remarkable differences between 
 prose and poetry Pastorals The Elegy Tlie Sonnet Lyric Poetry 
 Didactic Poetry Epic Poetry The Drama The Epigram The 
 Epitaph. 
 
 XlAVING described the several sorts of verse, so as to 
 give a general idea of metre, we shall proceed to the different 
 forms of poetical productions. Previously to this, we may 
 make some observations on the thoughts and language of 
 .p6etry. Horace has given the requisites of a poet in the 
 following lines : , ^ 
 
 Ingenium ciii sit, ciii mens divinior atqne os 
 Magna sonitnrum, des nomiuis faujus honorem. 
 
 HoR. Sat. 4. Lib. I, 
 
 Js there a man, vrhoija real genius fires, 
 
 Whom an enthusiasm divine inspires ; 
 
 Who talks true greatness ; let him boldly claim 
 
 The sacred honours of a Poet's name. Francis. 
 
 I 
 The Ingenium of Horace, means that invention ; and the 
 
 mens, that Enthusiasm, which form the Epic, Tragic, or Lyric 
 
 poet. Invention is the character of poetry in general : it is 
 
 that which can form a fable, plot, or story, and ornament it 
 
 with characters and circumstances ; the poet can create imagi*
 
 198 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 nary beings, describe what he never saw, and add fancied and 
 interesting erabellishnients to what he had seen. 
 
 The OS magna soniturum regards the language alone, which 
 is proper for the higher departments of poetry. A certain 
 strength and nobleness of style is so essential a part, that a poem, 
 which had both invention and enthusiasm in the highest degree, 
 would be ridiculous, if the language were cold and feeble. 
 
 The highest exercise of invention, is in the choice and ar- 
 rangement of the subject ; but here judgment must come in aid 
 of imagination, to ascertain what subject admits of poetical 
 embellishments. Unless that b interesting, all the ornaments 
 of poetry and language will be lavished in vain. But if the 
 subjecf be well conceived, appropriate beauties will seem na- 
 turally to arise out of it, and tlie execution will be propor- 
 tionally easy. -Attempts have been made to translate the 
 Bible into English verse ; the most however that could be done 
 in this way, would be to form it into rhymes, as the greater 
 part of it is not poetical. Milton selected almost the only 
 Scriptural subject that afforded scope for a brilliant imagination. 
 The fall of Adam and Eve was of itself well adapted to the 
 ornaments of poetry ; and from an obscure passage in the 
 Epistle of St. Jude, the vigorous fancy of the poet formed 
 the sublime episode of a war in heaven. Admirable, how- 
 ever, as the poem is, it is calculated to do much mischief, by 
 infusing into ignorant minds, false ideas respecting the Al- 
 mighty. Multitudes, no doubt, believe that the whole of the 
 Paradise Lost, is founded entirely upon facts recorded in the 
 Holy Scriptures, instead of being the work of the Poet's 
 creative imagination. 
 
 Poetry has been denominated an imitative art : it must not, 
 however, be an imitation of nature in every particular, but of 
 what is dignified and exalted, as far as the human imagination 
 is capable of rising. Tlie poet must be capable of amplifi- 
 cation ; the very soul of fine poetry is detail ; and the strongest 
 mark of a vigorous imagination is the power of displaying all 
 tlicnice and discriminating features of the human character and
 
 POETRY. 199 
 
 passions. Shakespeare surpasses every other poet in this ex- 
 cellence ; and in Milton, though the subject may seem un- 
 favourable to such a display, the most striking passages are of 
 this kind. With respect to the thoughts and ornaments, poetry 
 draws her resources from every quarter : of course he that 
 knows most, and has read most, will be the best poet. Mil- 
 ton's extensive knowledge serves perpetually to enrich his 
 poem, and keep alive the attention of his reader, and Shakes- 
 peare's fertile imagination, derived embellishments from every 
 thing existing in nature and art, by means of the slightest 
 associations. ^ 
 
 Although we do not pretend to give rules for the execution 
 of a poetical composition, yet the following observations, 
 taken chiefly from Dr. George Gregory's Letters on Literature, 
 may be deserving the attention of young writers. 
 
 Every ornamental thought in poetry, should flow naturally 
 out of the subject : it should not be pressed into the service, 
 as if it were dragged in from a common-place book. Trite 
 and common thoughts and reflections, notwithstanding their 
 moral tendency, should be rejected, because in poetry we 
 expect novelty and ingenuity, both in thought and expression ; 
 at the same time, it must be remembered that too much 
 caution cannot be exerted in avoiding conceit or affectation. 
 
 It must be remembered that the language of poetry is essen- 
 tially difl^erent from that of prose : this every one knows, though 
 but few persons can assign for it the just reasons. They seem to 
 result partly from poetry being of a more durable character, and 
 partly from the circumstance, that whatever is addressed more to 
 the passions than to the reason, requires a higher colouring. The 
 first remarkable diff'erence between poetry and prose, is, that 
 the former admits of the use of words and expressions, which 
 in the latter would be accounted obsolete. This principally 
 arises from the permanency or stationary character of poetry. 
 Prose in some measure depends on the style of conversation, 
 which is perpetually varying, but poetry survives these vicissi- 
 tudes, and therefore many words in Shakespeare and Milton,
 
 200 BELLES lETFRES. 
 
 which perhaps flie age immediately succeeding would have 
 regarded as low, are now consecrated by time. 
 
 2dly. Some poetical words take an additional syllable, as 
 dispart, enchnm, &c. M'hile others are made shorter by a sylla- 
 ble, as vaie, trump, clime, mom, eve, &c. 
 
 3dly. Certain abbreviations, and particularly tlie casura, 
 by which a letter is cut off from the beginning and end of a 
 syllable, are admissible in poetry, which are not allowable in 
 prose, as 
 
 T*was on a lofty vase's side, 
 
 T* alarm th' eternal miduight of the grave. 
 
 4thly. Poetry admits of a bolder transposition than prose, 
 which might be exemplified in many passages from Milton, 
 but the following is to the point : 
 
 Together both, ere the high lawns appear'd 
 
 Under the opening eyelid of the morn, 
 
 We drove afield. Monody on Lycidas. 
 
 5lhly. Poetry transforms nouns and adjectives into verbs 
 and participles, thus we have to hymn, varying, pictured 
 walls, caverrid roofs, &c. 
 
 6thiy. The soul of poetry is particularizing and bringing to 
 view minute circumstances, which give animation to the pic- 
 ture ; and for the same reason, poetry often uses a periphrasis 
 rather than a plain or simple description, 
 
 7lhly, Poetry admits of more and stronger figures than 
 prose, and particularly the prosopopoeia ; and it also admit* 
 of a greater abundance of epithets : even compound epithets 
 are necessary adjuncts in poetry, such as cloud-cupt towers, 
 mpny-txcink/ing, &c. 
 
 iVfter all, the distingulshhig character of poetry, as far as 
 re<'ards the style, lies more in the rejection than in the adop- 
 tion of particular phrases or forms of speech. Whatever is 
 technical, commoii, or colloquial, should be avoided. Where 
 dignity is expected, a phrase, lligu^h not low in itself, ye^
 
 POETRY. 201 
 
 beinff common in prose writing or conversation, will commonly 
 degrade. On this subject, Dr. Johnson says " There was, 
 beforo the time of Dry den, no poetical diction, no system of 
 words at once refined from the grossness of domestic use, dfid 
 free from the harshness of terms appropriated to particular 
 arts. Words too familiar, or too remote, defeat the purpose 
 of the poet. From those sounds, which we hear on small or 
 coarse occasions, we do not easily receive strong impressions 
 or delightful images ; and words, to which we are nearly stran- 
 gers, whenever they occur, draw that attention to themselves 
 which they should convey to things. Those happy combina- 
 tions of words, which distinguish poetry from prose, had been 
 rarely attempted ; we had few elegancies or flowers of speech ; 
 the rose had not yet been plucked from the bramble, or diffe- 
 rent colours joined^o enliven one another." 
 
 Of Pastoral Poetry. The pastoral is a very agreeable 
 species of poetry, but it is limited in its object. When formed 
 on the model presented to us by Theocritus and Virgil, it 
 should be a description of rural scenes and natural feelings 
 enriched with elegant language, and adorned by the most me- 
 lodious numbers. It was probably not invented till men had 
 begun to assemble in great cities, and the bustle of courts and 
 large societies was known. From the tumult of a city life, 
 men look back with complacency and a longing eye to the in- 
 nocence of a country retirement. Theocritiis wrote the first 
 pastorals which have come down to us, in the court of King 
 Ptolemy, and Virgil imitated him in the court of Augustus. 
 
 The pastoral recals objects which commonly delight in 
 childhood and youth. It gives the image of life, to which we 
 join the ideas of innocence, peace, virtue, qnd leisure. It con- 
 templates objects favourable to poetry ; such as rivers and 
 mountains, meadows and hills, flocks, trees and shepherds. 
 The pastoral poet paints the simplicity, the tranquillity and 
 happiness of a country life, but conceals its rudeness and mi- 
 sery. His pictures are not those of real life : they merely re-
 
 202 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 semble it. Most of our English pastorals represent scenes 
 that are artificial^ and sentiments thftt are factitious, because 
 they are imitated from other poets, the natives of a luxuriant 
 r^on, accustomed to the living tints and glowing azure of a 
 cloudless sky. 
 
 To have a proper idea of pastoral poetry, we must consider 
 the scenery, the characters, and the subjects which it exhi- 
 bits. The scene must be in the country, and the allusions 
 should he to natural objects. The poet must diversify the 
 face of nature, but on all occasions tlie scenery must be 
 adapted to the subject of the pastoral, so that nature may be 
 shewn under the forms that most accurately correspond with 
 the emotions and sentiments which he describes. As to the 
 characters in pastorals, it is not sufficient that they are persons 
 who reside constantly in the country, they must be shepherds, 
 and wholly engaged in rural occupations. The shepherd must 
 be plain and unaffected, without being dull and insipid. He 
 must possess good sense, and even vivacity ; and should display 
 tender and delicate feelings. VV'^ith respect to the subjects of 
 pastorals, it is not enough that the poet should give shepherds 
 discoursing together. Every good poem must have a topic 
 that should be interesting in some way, and in this lies the dif- 
 ficulty of pastoral poetry. The active scenes of a country life 
 are too barren of incidents, and the condition of a shepherd 
 has few things in it that produce curiosity and surprize. 
 
 Of Theocritus and Virgil, the former is distinguished for 
 the simplicity of his sentiments, the harmony of his numbers, 
 and the richness of his scenery ; but he occasionally descends 
 into ideas that are mean, abusive and immodest. Virgil, on 
 ihe contrary, has all the pastoral simplicity and grace, without 
 any offensive rusticity. 
 
 Of all the modems, Gesner, a poet of Switzerland, has 
 been the most happy. His scenery is striking, and his de- 
 scriptions are lively : he is pathetic and writes to the heart. 
 Meilher the pastorals of Mr. Pope, nor of Mr. Pliilips, are 
 any acquisition to English poetry. But Mr. Sheustone's 
 
 i
 
 POETRY. 203 
 
 " Pastoral Ballad," is one of the most elegant poems in the 
 Eiigh.sh language, ainl the " Gentle Shepherd" of Allan Ram- 
 say will bear being brought into comparison with any compo- 
 sition, of this kind, in any language. To this poem, it is a 
 disadvantage, that it is written in the old rustic dialect of Scot- 
 land, which is almost obsolete ; and another objection is, that it 
 is so entirely formed on the rural manners of Scotland, that 
 none but a native of that country can relish, or even understand 
 it. On the other hand, it is full of natural descriptioti, and it 
 excels in tenderness of sentiment.. The characters are drawn 
 with a skilful pencil, the incidents are affecting, and the sce- 
 nery and manners are lively and just. 
 
 Of the Elegy. The name of Elegy waS originally given 
 to the funereal monody, but was afterwards attached to all 
 plaintive strains. In the Latin language it was always written 
 in hexameter and pentameter verse. By the moderns, an 
 elegiac stanza was invented, assimilating as nearly as possible 
 with those slow numbers. . Many elegies, and these probably 
 the best, are expressive of only soothing tenderness : such are 
 those of Tibullus, so happily imitated by Hammond. The 
 Jesse of Shenstone, which has, perhaps, never been surpassed, 
 is all pathos. The celebrated elegy of Gray combines every 
 charm of description and sentiment. The elegiac stanza, which 
 soon becomes oppressive to the ear, is sometimes exchanged for 
 a lighter strain, as in the Juan Fernandez already referred to : 
 
 I am monarch of all I survey. 
 
 My right there is none to dispute ; 
 From the centre, all round to the sea, 
 I am lord of the fowl and the brute. 
 Oh solitude ! where are the channs 
 
 That sages have seen in thy face ? 
 Better dwell in tlic midst of alarms, , 
 
 Than reign in this horrible place ! Cowper. 
 
 Of the Sonnet. The Sonnet represents the elegy in an
 
 204 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 abridged form ; the same slow stanza is assigned to each, and 
 the sentiments suitable to the one are appropriate to the 
 other. It is derived from the Italian school, and has, at diffe- 
 rent periods, been much cultivated in this country, bat it is 
 not well suited to the genius of Obr language. The original 
 form was fourteen lines, viz. two stanzas of four lines each, 
 and two of three, and this form is still preserved in what are 
 esteemed true sonnets. The following by Milton is a fine spe- 
 cimen of the English sonnet ; 
 
 O nightingale, that on yon leafy spray 
 
 Wast blest at eve, when all the woods are still I 
 
 Thou with fresh hopes tlie lover's heart dost fill, 
 
 When the jolly Hours lead on propitioas May. 
 
 Tliy liquid notes, that close the eye of Day, 
 
 First heard, before the shallow cuckoo's bill, 
 
 Portend success in love. Oh ! if Jove's will , 
 
 Have liuk'd that amorous power to thy soft lay, 
 
 Now timely sing, ere the rude bird of hate 
 
 Foretell my hopeless doom in some grove nig^. 
 
 As thoB from year to year hast sung too late 
 
 For my relief, yet hadst no reason why, 
 
 Whether the muse, or Love call thee liis mate, 
 
 Botli them I serve, and of tlieir train am I. 
 
 Of Li/ric Poetry. Tlie ode is, in Greek, equivalent with 
 8ong or hynui, and lyric poetry implies that the verses are ac- 
 companied with a lyre, or with a musical instrument. It is 
 versatile and miscellaneous, and admits almost every diversity 
 of measure and subject. Love a.id heroism, friendship and 
 devotional sentiment, the triumphs of beauty, and the praises 
 of patriotism, are all appropriate to lyrical composition. 
 The soul of enthusiasm, the spirit of philosophy, the voice of 
 sympathy, may all breathe in the same ode. It is not neces- 
 sary that the structure of the ode should be so perfectly ex- 
 act and formal as a didactic poem ; but in every work of ge- 
 nius there ought to be a whole, and this whole should consist 
 of partS; which should have a bond of connexion. In the ode.
 
 1>0ETRY. 205 
 
 ihe tranaitionjf from thought to thought may be brisk and ra- 
 pid, but the connexion of ideas should be preserved. 
 
 Pindary the father of Lyric poetry, has led his imitators 
 into wildness and enthusiasm ; but in Horace, every thing is 
 correct, harmonious and happy. Grace and elegance are his 
 diaracteristics. He supports a moral sentiment with dignity, 
 touches a gay one with felicity, and has the happy art to trifle 
 most agreeably. Of our own lyrical writers, Dryden is emi- 
 nent ; his ode on St. Cecilia's day is well known. Gray is dis- 
 tinguished by the majesty and delicacy of his expression, and 
 the correctness of his style. Collins is not unfrequently ani- 
 mated by a portion of Pindaric spirit. 
 
 Among the minor lyrics ard included Songs, of which the 
 themes are in general amatory or convivial. Some, however, 
 are patriotic and martial, and not a few of a humorous cast. 
 Shakespeare, Jonson, and some other of their contemporaries 
 have left behind them songs of great beauty. In the last cen- 
 tury, the most popular Song-writer was Gay. 
 
 Of Didactic Poetry. The express intention of this is to 
 convey instruction and knowledge on a particular subject. 
 Tlie highest species of didactic composition is a formal trea- 
 tise on some philosophical or grave subject. Such is the 
 poem of Lucretius '* De Rerum Natura;" sUch also are the 
 Georgics of Virgil, Pope's Essay on Criticism, Akenside's 
 Pleasures of the Imagination, Armstrong's poem on Health, 
 and the Art of Poetry by Horace, Vida, and Boileau. In all 
 these works, instruction is the professed object, but the practi- 
 cal lessons must be enlivened with figures, incidents and poeti- 
 cal painting. Virgil, in his Georgics, has, more than any other 
 writer, the art of beautifying the most common circumstances 
 in the business of which he treats. He was happy in his subject, 
 for a dissertation on rural employments and affairs affords a 
 vast scope for beautiful and luxuriant description. The plan 
 which he adopts is sufficiently regular for the conveying of all
 
 206 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 necessary instruction, while the poem is every where enliveued 
 by animated description, splendid allusions, or interestiiig nar- 
 rations. The reader who is, iu the least, acquainted with the 
 Georgics, cannot forget the description of the perpetual spring 
 in Italy, nor that of the Scythian winter ; with what interest 
 does the poet describe the happiness of a country life, the 
 prodigies that preceded the death of Caesar, and the disease 
 among the cattle, the fable of Aristeus, and the tale of Or- 
 pheus and Eurydice. 
 
 In all didactic works, sHch a method and order are requisite, 
 as shall exhibit clearly a connected train of instruction ; but 
 considerable liberties may be taken with regard to episodes 
 and embellishments, for in a poetical performance, a conti- 
 nued series of instruction, without entertaining embellishmente, 
 would fatigue and disgust rather than amuse. 
 
 Of didactic poetry, satires and epistles run into the most fa- 
 miliar style. The satire is supposed to be a relic of the an- 
 cient comedy, but it was Horace who brought it to the perfec- 
 tion in which it has come dov/n to us. Satire appears in three 
 different modes, in tlie writings of Horace, Juvenal and Per- 
 sius. The satires of Horace are characterized by their ease 
 and grace : they glance rather at the follies and weakness of 
 mankind, than their vices. Juvenal is more declamatory and 
 serious, and has greater strength and fire. Persius has dis- 
 tinguished himself by a noble and sublime morality. Poetical 
 epistles, when employed in moral and critical topics, resemble 
 satires in the strain of their poetry. But in the epistolary form, 
 various other subjects may be treated. The ethical epistles of 
 Pope are a model, and he exhibits in them the strength of his 
 genius. His imitations of Horace are so happy, that it is dif- 
 ficult to say whether the original or the copy is the most to be 
 admired. 
 
 The Night Thoughts of Dr. Young may be fairly classed 
 among moral didactic poems* In tliis work there is great 
 energy of expression, many pathetic passages, happy images.
 
 POETRY. 207 
 
 and moral reflections. The opening of the poem has been 
 regarded as only second to the exquisite lines of the immortal 
 Shakespeare on Sleep : 
 
 Tir**! nature's sweet restorer, balmy Sleep, 
 He, like the world, his ready visit pays 
 Where fortune smiles; the wretched he forsakes. 
 Swift on his downy pinions flies from woe. 
 And lights on lids unsullied with a tear. 
 
 Of Epic Poetry. Epic poetry concentrates all that is 
 sublime in action, description, or sentiment. In the structure 
 of a regular poem of this order, criticism requires that the fa- 
 ble should be founded in fact, and that fiction may fill the pic- 
 ture of which the outline is traced by truth. The machinery 
 shduld be subservient to the main design. The action should 
 be simple and uniform. In Homer's Iliad, the action is 
 limited to the destruction of Troy, which is to be effected by 
 the conciliation of Achilles to the common cause. In the 
 Odyssey, it is the establishment of Ulysses in Ithaca, an event 
 which, after innumerable difficulties, he is finally enabled to 
 accomplish. In Virgil's iEneid, the hero is destined to found 
 a Trojan colony in Latium. In the Jerusalem Delivered, the 
 object is the restoration of that city to the Christians. In the 
 Lusiad of Camoens the subject is the discovery of India by 
 Vasco de Gama. The characters are well drawn, but not so 
 well supported: The subject is perhaps too recent, and the 
 savage barbarities which the Portuguese committed, naturally 
 prejudice us against it. It, however, affords an admirable 
 scope for description, and for the introduction of very inte- 
 resting scenes. 
 
 In Epic poems. Criticism requires that poetical justice 
 should be dispensed to all parties, success being awarded to 
 the virtuous, and punishment inflicted on the guilty. Homer, 
 Virgil and Tasso have constructed their poems on this prin- 
 ciple. The Paradise Lost, whether it be, or be not ranked in 
 the class of Epic poems, is justly deemed one of the highest 
 efforts of poetical genius. The author, in the conduct of the
 
 208 CEIXES LETTRES. 
 
 subject, has sliewii a very wonderful stretch of imagination and 
 invention, and has admirably sustained the various charac- 
 ters which he has introduced. But Milton's distinguishing 
 excellence is his sublimity, in which he very far surpasses 
 Virgil, and by some is thought to excel even Homer. By all 
 it is admitted that Milton's sublimity is difiFerent from that of 
 Homer. That of the latter is generally accompanied with 
 fire and impetuosity, while Milton's possesses more of calm 
 and amazing grandeur. Homer warms and hurries us along ; 
 Milton's is that of wonderful and stupendous objects. Milton 
 unites with his sublimity much of the beautiful, the tender, 
 and the pleasing : his language and versification possess very 
 high merit. His style is full of majesty, and wonderfully 
 adapted to his subject. His blank verse is harmonious and 
 diversified, and affords the most complete example of eleva- 
 tion, which the English language is capable of attaining by 
 the force of numbers. 
 
 Of the Drama. llie Drama was originally a metrical 
 composition, and exhibited all the critical refinements of poe- 
 try. The title of poet is still given to every dramatic author, 
 although he should write in prose, and have no talent what- 
 ever for poetry. .The avowed object of the drama is to deve- 
 lope the passions, or to delineate the manners of mankind, 
 tragedy eflfects the one, and comedy the other. In the English 
 language there are many popular dramas of a mixed charater, 
 which are written in verse intermingled with prose, and which 
 are called plays. Tlie triple unities of time, place, and ac- 
 tion, are seldom observed on the English stage, and it is ad- 
 mitted, that between the acts any change is admissible. In 
 truth, this operation is performed without condition and re- 
 striction, and is allowed without censure, provided die cause 
 and object of it is immediately comprehended by the audience. 
 To the hmitation of time more attention is paid. In many 
 tragedies the action is included in one day. Unity of design 
 is aa obligation imposed by good seose, and Sl;iakespearc,
 
 ^ POETRY. 209 
 
 guided only by his feelings of propriety, is, in general, care- 
 ful to exclude from his plays a divided interest. In constrnct- 
 ing a dramatic fable, the author has to provide sources of 
 constantly augmenting interest ; to present characters, to sug- 
 gest situations capable of extorting from the spectators an ac- 
 tive participation in the scene ; above all, to supply a series 
 of natural incidents, the springs of dramatic action, by which 
 all the life and motion of the piece are produced. The dra- 
 matic style should imbibe its character from that of the indi- 
 viduals presented in the scene, and transmit the impression of 
 every feeling which is there pourtrayed. On this excellence 
 isi^ founded the superiority of Shakespeare to all other dra- 
 matists : from his pen, each passion receives its appropriate 
 language. With a few masterly touches, he lays open the 
 heart, exhibits its most secret movements, and excites in every 
 bosom correspondent emotions. 
 
 Of the Epigram. An epigram is a little poem, treating of 
 one thing only, whose characteristics are brevity, beauty, and 
 point. The word epigram signifies inscription^ for epigrams 
 derive their origin from those inscriptions placed by the an- 
 cients on their statues, temples, pillars, triumphal arches, &c. 
 which, at first, were very short, being sometimes no more 
 than a single word ; but afterwards, increasing their length, 
 they made them in verse, to be better retained by the memory. 
 This short way of writing came at last to be used upon any 
 occasion or subject, and hence the name of epigram has been 
 given to almost any stnall copy of verses, without any regard 
 to the original application of the term. The usual limits of 
 an epigram are from two to twenty verses, though it often 
 extends to fifty, but the shorter, the better it is, and the more 
 perfect ; because the epigram, being only a single thought, 
 ought to be expressed in a little compass, or it loses its force 
 and strength. It is principally {\\e point that characterizes the 
 epigram. It admits of a great variety of subjects ; some are 
 made to praise, and others to satirize ; the last are the easiest, 
 
 YQL. I. P
 
 210 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 as ill-temper frequently serves in the place of wit. We have 
 many excellent epigrams in our own language : thse of Prior 
 are highly esteemed ; the following is a fine encomium on the 
 performance of an excellent painter : 
 
 VENUS MISTAKEN. 
 
 When Chloe's picture was to Venus shown ; 
 Surprized, the eodiless took it for her own. 
 And what, said hc, docs this bold painter mean? 
 When was I bathing thus, and naked seen? 
 Pleas'd Cupid heard, and check'd his mother's pride ; 
 And who's blind now, mamma i the urchin cry'd, 
 'Ti Cliloe's eye, and cheek, and lip, and breast : 
 Friend Howard's genius fancy'd all the rest. 
 
 The epigram of the celebrated Dr. Doddridge, on the 
 words Dum vivimtts, vivamus, is well known : 
 
 Live while yon live, the epicure would say, 
 And grasp the pleasures of the passing day : 
 Live while you live, the sacred preacher cries. 
 And give to God each moment as it flies : 
 Lord, in my view let both united be, 
 I live in pleasure, >\bile IJive to Tbee. 
 
 Of the Epitaph. The epitaph is nearly allied to tlie epi- 
 gram, and has a similar derivation, meaning, as the term im- 
 ports, an inscription on a tomb. In its original structure, it 
 consisted of only a single line, or a few words intended to at- 
 tract the notice of the passenger. Such is that on the tomb 
 of Tasso : 
 
 Les 08 du Tasse. 
 
 In a good epitaph, the name, and something of the character 
 of the person should be introduced ; and the place in which 
 epitaphs are usually inserted, ought never to be forgotten, and 
 on this accoimt every thing light and trifling should be avoided. 
 The followuig epitaph of. Dr. Johnson, on a celebrated mu- 
 sician, possesses all these characteristics : 
 
 Philips! whose touch, liarmonions, conld remove 
 JThe pangs of guilty power and hapless love,
 
 POETRY. 211 
 
 Rest here, dUtrest by poverty no more I 
 Find here that calm thou gav'st so oft before ; 
 Sleep undisturbed within this peaceful shrine, 
 Till angels wake thee with a note like thine ! 
 
 That of the illustrious Newton is highly appropriate : 
 
 y, Isaacum Newton 
 
 Quem inimortalem 
 Testantnr Tempus, Natura, Coelum, 
 Mortalem hoc marmor , 
 
 Fatetur. 
 
 The difficulty of writing an epitaph, consists in giving a 
 particular and appropriate praise, which, in most instances, 
 is almost impossible, because the greater part of mankind have 
 little that distinguishes them from others, and, therefore, no- 
 thing can be said of them, that will not apply to thousands 
 more. 
 
 The elegance of an epitaph consists in a nervous and ex- 
 pressive brevity, and it is often closed with a sort of epigram- 
 matic point : 
 
 Underneath this uoble marble hearse 
 Lies the subject of all verse, 
 Sidney's sister, Penibroke's mother: 
 Death ! ere thou hast killed another. 
 Fair, and learu'd, and good as she, 
 Time shall throw a dart at thee. 
 
 Wit seems much out of place in an epitaph ; yet we have 
 many epitaphs that are jocose and ludicrous, such is that on 
 an old fiddler, who was remarkable for beating time to his 
 own music : 
 
 Stephen and Time are now both even, 
 Stephen beat Time, now Time 's beat Stephen. 
 
 p2
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 ON ELOCUTION. 
 
 Cicero's division of Oratory Defects in enunciation In what an orator 
 should excel Articulation, the principal thing Accent Emphasisr-^ 
 Passions of the mind, how expressed Cadence Pauses Gesture Ac* 
 tion Practical Rules. 
 
 Ill LOCUTION is a branch of Oratory of great power and 
 importance. In common language, the term signifies utter- 
 ance, delivery, or pronunciatioii. Elocution was much culti- 
 vated bjr Cicero and Quintilian, and before their time, by 
 Demosthenes. It is well known, that the latter being asked 
 what was the first point in Oratory ? answered. Pronuncia- 
 tion : being asked what was the second ? replied. Pronuncia- 
 tion ; and what was the third ? Pronunciation : shewing there- 
 by, that, in his judgment, the whole art of oratory consisted in 
 this. 
 
 Cicero divided Oratory ioto five, parts: (1.) Invention, 
 by which we are to provide ourselves with suitable and suffi- 
 cient materials for a discourse. (2.) Disposition, by whicli 
 the subject was divided into parts, according to the most na- 
 tural order, and which included the proper distribution and 
 arrangement of their ideas. (3.) Elocution, which consisted 
 in suiting words to the ideas, and which constituted the style
 
 W ELOCUTION. 213 
 
 of the subject. (4.) Memory, or a faculty of clearly discern- 
 ing and retaining our ideas, and of calling to mind the most 
 proper words by which to express them. (5.) Pronuncia- 
 tion, or the art of managing the voice and gesture in speak- 
 ing. The great design of pronunciation, to which this chap- 
 ter of our work is devoted, is to make the sentiments appear 
 to come from the heart, in order that they may excite the 
 attention and interest of those who listen to them. 
 
 Previously to the laying down rules for a good pronuncia- 
 tion, we shall mention some faults, into which young persons 
 are apt to fall. 
 
 ' The faults of -a bad or defective pronunciation are, (1.) 
 when the voice is too loud, which is as inconvenient to the 
 speaker, as it is disagreeable to the hearers. (2.) Another 
 fault -equally bad is when the voice is too low. Every 
 person's voice should fill the place in which he speaks. 
 The art of governing the voice consists very much in avoid- 
 ing these two extremes. As a general rule we should care- 
 fully preserve the Key, that is, the command of the voice, 
 and at the same time adapt 'the elevation and strength of it to 
 the number of the persons we speak to ; and the nature of the 
 place we speak in. (3.) Another fault in pronunciation is a 
 thick, hasty, and inarticulate voice^ This is sometimes occa- 
 sioned by a defect in the organs of speech, but more fre- 
 quently by inattention and bad habits. In the former case 
 more may be required than m9fe personal exertion : the aid 
 of a professional person should be sought, to direct to the use 
 of proper methods for overcoming the defect. But if the 
 fault originates in mere bad habit, then nothing more is 
 wanting than constant efforts, till the defect is cured. It is 
 recorded of Demosthenes, who- became the greatest orator 
 the world ever produced, that he had, in the outset of life, 
 three natural impediments in pronunciation, all of which he 
 conquered by invincible labour and perseverance : one was a 
 weakness of voice, which he cured by frequently declaiming 
 on the sea-shore, amidst the noise of the waves. Another
 
 214 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 was a shortness of breath, which he corrected by repeating 
 speeches as he walked up a hill. The third was llie fault of 
 a thick way of speaking, of which he broke himself by de- 
 claiming with pebbles in his mouth. (4.) Speaking too quick 
 and too slow are likewise faults in' pronunciation. By speak- 
 ing too rapidly, the hearer loses the benefit of half he listens 
 to, and by a too slow utterance the speaker becomes tedious, 
 which can only be compensated by the importance and excel- 
 lence of the sentiments delivered. (5.) There are other faults 
 to be avoided, such as are produced by a flat, dull, uniform 
 tone of voice, without emphasis or cadence, or any regard to 
 the sense or subject of what is read; and likewise reading 
 with a tone. 
 
 Having pomted out the faults that shew themselves in a bad 
 delivery, we shall proceed to point out in what manner an 
 orator ought to excel. It is evident that the prime objects of 
 every public speaker should he,Jirst, to speak so as to be fully 
 and easily understood by his hearers'; and, next, to express 
 himself with such grace and energy as to please and move 
 them. 
 
 In order to be fully and easily understood, independently of 
 a proper degree of loudness of voice, the requisites are, distinct 
 articulation, slowness and propriety of pronunciation. A 
 speaker must endeavour to fill with his voice the space occu- 
 pied by the assembly, which depends on the proper pitch and 
 management of the voice. Jtl is not necessary that the highest 
 pitch of the voice should be used in order to be well heard. 
 To assert the contrary of this, is to confound twq things ma- 
 terially different, viz. loudness, or strength of sound, with the 
 key or note on which we speak. The voice may be rendered 
 louder without altering the key ; and a speaker will always be 
 able to give most body, most persevering force or sound, to 
 that pitch of voice, to which in conversation he is accustomed. 
 But if he begin on the highest pitch of his voice, be will 
 fatigue himself, and speak w ith pain, which must excite uneasy 
 sensations in the audience. To be well heard, a speaker, >)e-
 
 ELOCUTION. 21^ 
 
 fore he begins,- should fix his eye on some of the most distant 
 persons in the assembly, and consider himself as speaking to 
 them, because we naturally and mechanically express our 
 words with such a degree of strength, as to be heard by the 
 person or persons to whom we address ourselves, provided he 
 or they be situated within the reach of our voice. This will 
 be the case in public speaking, as well as in common con- 
 versation. 
 
 In order to be well and clearly understood, distinctness of- 
 articulation is of much more importance than mere loudness 
 of sound. A good articulation consists in giving a clear and 
 full utterance to the several simple and complex sounds. The 
 nature of the sounds, therefore, ought to be well understood; 
 and much pains should be taken to discover and correct those 
 faults in articulation, which, though sometimes ascribed to a 
 defect in the organs of speech, are generally the consequence 
 of inattention. Some persons find it difficult to articulate the 
 letter /, others, the simple sounds expressed by r, s, th, and 
 sh ; but the instance of defective articulation which is most 
 common, and requires the most particular notice, is the omis- 
 sion of the aspirate A, an omission, which materially affects 
 the energy of pronunciation ; the expression of emotions 
 and passions, often depending, in a great measure, upon the 
 vehemence with which the aspirate is uttered. Other defects 
 in articulation, consist in a confused and cluttering pronuncia- 
 tion of words.- The best methods of overcoming this habit, 
 are, to read aloud passages chosen for the purpose, particu- 
 larly such as abound with long and unusual words, or in 
 which many short syllables come together; and to read at 
 certain stated times, much slower than the sense and a just 
 mode of sjjeaking would require. Persons, who have not 
 studied the art of elocution, often have a habit of uttering their 
 words so rapidly, that the exercise now recommended, ought 
 generally to be made use of for a considerable time, at least till 
 they can read distinctly and deliberately. The speaker must 
 give every sound which he utters its due proportion, and make
 
 216 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 every syllable, and even every letter, be Heard distinctly. 
 Such a pronunciation adds weight and dignity to language: 
 it assists the voice by the pauses and rests which it enables 
 the speaker to make, and he thus acquires a command over 
 himself \\ hich is essential to good oratory. 
 
 In our language, every word of more syllables than one, 
 has, at least, one accented syllable, which should always be 
 marked by a stronger and more forcible utterance than the 
 rest. This variety of sound serves to distinguish, from each 
 other, the words of which a sentence is composed. According 
 to Mason, whose " Essay on Elocution" is the foundation of 
 almost all that has been since written on the subject, when 
 "we distinguish any particular syllable in a word with a force 
 of voice, it is called accent; when we thus distinguish any 
 particular w ord in a sentence, it is called emphasis, and the 
 word so distinguished, the emphatical word. The emphatical 
 words in a sentence, are those which carry a weight or im- 
 portance in themselves, or those on which the sense of the 
 rest depends ; and these must always be distinguished by a 
 fuller and stronger sound of voice, wherever they are found, 
 w hether in the beginning, middle, or end of a sentence ; thus : 
 
 -Rem, facias Rem 
 
 Recte, si possis, si uon, quocdnqne modo Rem. 
 
 Get place and wealth, if possible, with grace ; 
 If not, by any means, get wealth and pl^ce. 
 
 In these lines, the emphatical words are accented, and, in 
 general, the sense will point out which they are. Sometimes, 
 however, sentences are to be met with so full and compre- 
 hensive, that almost every word is emphatical ; such is the 
 expostulation in the prophecy of Ezekiel : " Why will ye die !" 
 in which every word is emphatical, and according to the par- 
 ticular word on which the emphasis is laid, a different sense 
 is expressed. Some sentences are equivocal, that is, they 
 contain in them more senses than one ; and which the intended
 
 ELOCUTION. . 217 
 
 meaning is, .can only be known by observing on' what Svord 
 the emphasis is laid. The following sentence is given as an 
 instance : " Shall you ride to town to-day ?" The question is 
 capable of being taken in four different senses, according as 
 the emphasis is laid. If it be on the word you, the answer 
 may be, ** No, but I shall send the servant." If on the word 
 ride, tlie answer might be, " No, but I propose to walk." 
 If on the word tozen, the question is varied, and the answer 
 may be, " No, I shall ride into the country :" and if the em- 
 phasis be laid on the words tO'day, the answer may be, " No, 
 but I shall to-morrow." Such may be the importartce of 
 laying a right emphasis. 
 
 To acquire the proper management of the emphasis, the 
 chief rule is, that the speaker study to acquire a just concep- 
 tion of the force and spirit of those sentiments which he is 
 about to deliver. Although it is of importance to a speaker to 
 find out and distinguish the emphatical words, yet he must 
 be cautious against multiplying them too much. They only 
 become striking when used with prudence and reserve. If 
 they recur very frequently, they soon fail to excite the atten- 
 tion of an audience. 
 
 We may farther observe, that the different passions of the 
 mind, are to be expressed by a different modulation of the 
 voice : love, by a soft, smooth, languishing note ; anger, 
 by a strong, vehement, and hasty speech ; joy, by a quick, 
 sweet, and clear sound ; sorrow, by a low, interrupted pro- 
 nunciation ; fear, by a dejected, tremulous, hesitating tone ; 
 courage, by. a full, bold, and rather loud address. ' In distinct 
 orations, the exordium should be delivered in a lower voice ; 
 Xhe, narration should be distinct ; the reasoning, or argumen- 
 tative part, clear and slow ; and the peroration, strong, for- 
 cible, and animated. 
 
 The variation of emphasis must not only distinguish the 
 various passions just enumerated, but must be carried to the 
 several forms or figwes of speech in which they are expressed. 
 In prosopopaia, the voice must be changed from one's own
 
 218 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 to that of him who is supposed to be introduced. In the 
 antithesis, one contrary must be pronounced rather louder 
 than the other. In a climax, the voice should always rise 
 with it. In dialogues, it should be altered with the parts. 
 In repetitions, it should be loudest in the second place. 
 
 Cadence is opposite to emphasis, but not less important in 
 just elocution. The latter, as we have seen, elevates the 
 voice ; by ther former, the voice gradually falls, and, if rightly 
 managed, it is extremely musical. Besides a cadence of 
 voice, there is, in all correct writers, a cadence of style : that 
 is, when the sense is nearly completed, the remaining words 
 gradually glide away among themselves. If an author's lan- 
 guage be elegant, the cadence of his style will naturally direct 
 the cadence of the voice. Cadence generally takes place at 
 the end of a. sentence, unless it closes with an emphatical 
 word. Every parenthesis is to be pronounced in cadence, 
 that is, with a lower and a quicker voice than ordinary, that 
 it may not take off the attention too much from the sense of 
 the period which it interrupts. Apostrophes and prosopopoeias 
 are to be pronounced in emphasis. 
 
 Next to emphasis, pauses demand attention : these are of 
 two kinds, (1) emphatical pauses; and (2) such as mark the 
 distinctions of sense. An emphatical pause is made after 
 something has been said of importance, to fix the hearer's 
 attention ; and, sometimes, a subject of interest is preceded 
 by a pause of this nature. In pauses, as with regard to em- 
 phases, care- must be taken that they are not too often re- 
 peated. For since they excite particular attention, and raise 
 expectation, if this be not fully answered, they will occasion 
 disappointment and disgust. But the chief use of pauses is 
 to mark the divisions of the sense, and, at the same time, to 
 permit the speaker to draw his bfeath ; and the just and 
 graceful management of such pauses, is one of the most 
 delicate and difficult points to be accomplished in elocution. 
 
 To obtain a proper command of the breath, a speaker 
 should be careful to provide a supply of it fully adequate for
 
 ELOCUTION. 219 
 
 what he i& about to utter. It is a mistake to imagine that the 
 breath is only to be drawn in at the end of a period, when' 
 the voice is allowed to fall. It may, with a proper degree of 
 attention, be easily inspired at the intervals of a sentence, 
 when the voice suffers only a momentary suspension, and 
 hence a sufficient supply may be obtained for carrying on the 
 longest without improper interruptions. 
 
 Pauses, in public discourse, must be formed upon the 
 manner in which we naturally express ourselves in common, 
 sensible conversation, and not from the punctuation usually 
 found in books, which is arbitrary, and frequently capricious 
 and false. To make pauses graceful and expressive, they must 
 not only fall in the right places, but be accompanied by a 
 proper tone of voice, by which the nature of the pauses is 
 intimated, much more than by the length. 
 
 In reading or reciting verses, there is more difficulty in 
 making the pauses with propriety. There are two kinds of 
 pauses, one at the end of the line, and the other in the middle 
 of it. Rhyme always rendere the former sensible, and obliges 
 one to observe it in pronunciation. In blank verse it is ^ess 
 perceivable ; and when there is no suspension in the sense, it 
 has been doubted whether, in reading it, any regard should 
 be paid to the close of a line : and it is certain, that the close 
 of the line, where there is no pause in the meaning, should 
 be marked only by such a slight suspension of sound, as may 
 distinguish the passage from one line to another, without in- 
 juring the sense. The pause within the line, usually falls 
 after the fourth, fifth, sixth, or seventh syllables, and when 
 it coincides with the division of sense, the line is read 
 with the utmost ease, as ' in the following lines of Pope's 
 Messiah: 
 
 Ye nymj^hs of Solyma ! begin the song ; 
 
 To heavenly themes, sublimer strains belong. 
 
 But if it happen that words, which have such an intimate 
 connexion as not to admit even of a momentary separation.
 
 220 BELLES LETT RES. 
 
 be divided from each other by this pause in the middle of the 
 verse, there will be a conflict between the sense and the 
 sound, which renders it difficult to read the lines with grace. 
 In such cases, the sound must be sacrificed to sense : the 
 following instance is taken from Milton : 
 
 A . What in me is dark, 
 
 Illumine : what is low, raise and support. 
 
 The sense shews that the pause must be after the word 
 illumine, that is, after the third syllable ; but if the melody 
 were only to be regaided, there should be no pause till 
 after the fourth or sixth syllable. In the following line 
 of Pope, 
 
 I lit, with sad civility I. read. 
 
 the sense allows no other pause than after the second syllable, 
 which is the only one to be observed, though a well dis- 
 ciplined ear would point out the pause as occurring after the 
 word sad. 
 
 Above all things, in elocution, we must follow nature, that 
 is, otur own natural dispositions and affections ; hence a man 
 will deliver his own compositions with more propriety and 
 more animation, than he can those of another person : to 
 heighten the effect of the pronunciation, the natural warmth 
 of the m'md should be permitted to have its course. We must 
 study the most natural w ay of expressing ourselves, as to the 
 tone of voice, which is different from emphasis, cadence, and 
 pauses. This is best learnt by observation on the common 
 forms of conversation, where all is free, natural, and easy ; 
 and when we are only intent on making ourselves understood, 
 and conveying our ideas, in a strong, plain, and lively man- 
 ner, with the most natural language, elocution and action. 
 The nearer our pronunciation in public, comes to the freedom 
 and ease of that which we use in common discourse, pro- 
 vided we maintain the dignity of the subject, and preserve a
 
 ELOCUTION. 221 
 
 propriety of expression, the more just, naturalj and agreeable 
 it will be. 
 
 The orator must attain a certain degree of confidence, "in 
 order that he may be collected and composed : for this pur- 
 pose he should not only be entirely master of the subject on 
 which he delivers himself, but he must be conscious that his 
 matter merits the attention of his audience. He should en- 
 deavour to be wholly engaged in what he has to say, and if 
 the sight of any of his hearers discompose him, he should cau- 
 tiously keep his eyes from that part of the assembly in which 
 they are. * 
 
 We are now led to make some observations on gesture or 
 action. The best rule is to recftmmend attention to the looks 
 and gestures in which earnestness, indignation, compassion, 
 or any other emotion, discovers itself to most advantage in the 
 common intercourse of men, and these may be the model for 
 imitation. A public speaker must, however, adopt that 
 manner which is most natural to himself. His motions and 
 gestures should exhibit that kind of expression which nature 
 has dictated, for, unless this be the case, no study can pre- 
 vent their appearing stiff and ungraceful. The study of action 
 consists chiefly in guarding against awkward and disagreeable 
 motidtis, and in learning to perform such as are natural to the 
 speaker in the most graceful manner. 
 
 The parts of the body that are principally employed in ora- 
 tories action, are the head, theyce,*the eyes, the hands, 
 and, in fact, the whole upper part of the body. The head 
 should be, for the most part, erect, turning gently, some- 
 times on one side, and sometimes on the other, that the 
 voice may be heard by the whole audience, and that a 
 seeming attention may be paid to the several parts of it. 
 Every passion uttered by the tongue should be painted in the 
 face, and there is frequently more eloquence in a look, than 
 any words can express. By this, an audience may be awed, 
 incensed, softened, grieved, &c. according as it catches the
 
 222 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 fire of the speaker's passion from his countenance. The eyes 
 should be carried from one part of the audience to another, 
 with a ihodesi and decent respect, which will tend to recal 
 and fix their attention, and animate' the speaker in his de- 
 livery. In the motions made with the hands, consists the 
 principal part of gesture in speaking. The right hand should 
 be more employed tlian the left, but very warm and animated 
 emotions require the exercise of them both together. But 
 whether a speaker gesticulates with one or with both hands, 
 it is an important rule, that all his motions should be easy 
 and unrestrained. Perpendicular movements, in a straight 
 line up and down, which Shakespeare calls, " Sawing the 
 air with the hand,"^ are to be avoided. Oblique motions are 
 the most pleasing and graceful. Sudden and rapid motions 
 are rarely to be used. The posture of the bodi/ should be 
 usually erect ; not perpetually changing, nor always motion- 
 less. It should accompany the motion of the hands, head, 
 and eyes, where they are directed to any particular part of 
 the audience. A sawing motion of the whole body is 
 not only very ungraceful, but tends to send the audience 
 to sleep. ^ 
 
 Every speaker should guard against all affectation, and the 
 servile imitation of another person: his manner, as w .11 as 
 his discourse, should be his own. Whatever is native, though 
 attended with defects, is likely to please, because it shows 
 the man, and has the appearance of coming from the heart. 
 To attain an extremely correct and graceful method of de- 
 livery, is not generally to be expected, but to acquire a for- 
 cible and persuasive manner, is within the power of almost 
 any person who attempts to plead at the bar, or speak from 
 the pulpit. 
 
 The following hints and rules, taken from Dr. Knox's 
 Treatise on Liberal Education, may be found useful, not 
 only to instructors of the young, but to others who are en- 
 deavouring to improve themselves in the art of elocution.
 
 ELOCUTION. 223 
 
 When a boy is so far advanced in the classics, as to be able 
 to afford time and attention to other objects, he should enter 
 on the art of speaking. Once a week, or oftener, he should 
 rehearse, in \he hearing of all the boys in the school, seated 
 as auditors, some celebrated passage from JDemosthenes, 
 Plato, Homer, Cicero, Livy, Virgil, Milton, Shakespeare, 
 Pope, or Addison. These original writers, or others of the 
 same class, whose characters are established, are recom- 
 mended, as being fully sufficient to form the taste, as well as 
 to furnish matter for the practice of elocution in all its va- 
 rieties : and it may be observed, that the learning by heart 
 the most beautiful passages of the finest authors, is a very 
 great collateral advantage attending the study of the art of 
 speaking. 
 
 Tlie first object is to habituate the scholar to speak slowly 
 and distinctly, for boys are apt to fall into a careless and pre- 
 cipitate manner of articulating their words, and till this fault 
 is removed, no improvenient can be made in elegance or 
 expression. A distinct enunciation in speaking, resembles 
 perspicuity in writing. Without it, there can be no graceful 
 elocution; as, without perspicuity, there can be no -beauty 
 of style. It may be necessary that many weeks, and even 
 months, should be employed in obtaining this primary and 
 important point, a slow and distinct utterance. This, how- 
 ever, is, of itself, a valuable attainment. An excellent 
 method of introducing it, is the motion of an instructor's hand, 
 resembling the beating of time in music, and directing the 
 pauses of the learner, and the slower or quicker progress of 
 his pronunciation. It is, likewise, very useful to insist, 
 during the exercise, that every syllable, but especially the 
 last, shall clearly, and almost separately, strike the ear, but 
 without dwelling upon it; otherwise the slow and distinct 
 manner will degenerate into the heavy and the sluggish. 
 During this process, all monotony, and all disagreeable tones 
 are to be carefully corrected. 
 
 When a slow and distinct utterance is obtained, and the
 
 224 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 disagreeable tones corrected, the graces of elocution will 
 claim the pupil's attention. Modesty is one of the most be- 
 coming graces of a young person. When he speaks in public, 
 it is one of the finest rhetorical ornaments that can be used. 
 Th best writers on the subject of rhetoric, have prescribed 
 the appearance of modesty even in men : but it must not be 
 the result of affectation. The classical manner, as it may be 
 denominated, must be found in every place attached to ancient 
 learning ; for there, if that kind of learning beproperly un- 
 derstood, and its beauties felt, taste will prevail, and where 
 that is the case, no mode of speaking can be encouraged which 
 would not please an Attic audience. 
 
 Dr. Knox does not approve of young people making much 
 use of action, because it is unbecoming if it be awkward, and 
 it must be awkward if the subject spoken be not evidently felt 
 by the speaker. " I have," says the Doctor, " been present 
 on many public occasions when boys have spoken, and I have 
 never yet observed above one or two who used action without 
 exposing themselves to the derision of the audience." He is 
 also averse from the practice of acting plays, and still more, 
 from lads and young people attending spouting clubs and 
 debating societies ; and having rejected the forward and decla- 
 matory style, he explains what he means by the classical : that 
 is, a clear and distinct, an emphatic and elegant utterance 
 without affectation. To speak well, our author admits, de- 
 pends more on corporal endowments, than almost any other 
 accomplishment, for whatever learning and judgment the 
 mind may have acquired, yet unless nature has formed the 
 organs of speech in perfection, and given a considerable de- 
 gree of bodily strength to the student, he will seldom become 
 a distinguished speaker. Art and application will, however, 
 assist him, and if they only enable nim to speak slowly and 
 distinctly, Uiey will have done him much service. 
 
 " I will not," says Dr. Knox, " close this section without 
 seriously advising all who are designed to fill that office which 
 is instituted to instruct their fellow creatures in moral and
 
 ELOCUTION. 225 
 
 religious Irutli, to pay great attention, in their youth, to the 
 art of speaking. The neglect of it has brought the regularly 
 educated professors of religion into contempt among the lower 
 orders of the people ; among those who, for want of other 
 opportunities, stand most in need of instruction from the 
 pulpit." 
 
 It must be farther observed, that, in the application of the 
 Rules of Elocution to practice, in order to acquire a just and 
 graceful elocution, it will be necessary to go through a regular 
 course of exercises, beginning w ith such as are more easy, and 
 proceeding, by degrees, to those that are more difficult. For 
 this purpose we have divers helps, excellently adapted to the 
 attainment of the object sought ; among these. Dr. Enfield's 
 " Speaker," and " Exercises in !Elocution," take the lead. 
 Next in order are the " Academical Speaker," and " Rheto- 
 rical Grammar," by Mr. John Walker, who was a master in 
 this useful art. By the same author we have a small tract 
 entitled, " The Melody of Speaking delineated, or Elocution 
 taught like Music," &c. 
 
 These works will furnish the practitioner with an abundance 
 of all kinds of examples in reading, but, at first, he should con- 
 tent himself with the most simple sentences ; for unless he can 
 read these, and easy narrative or didactic pieces, with distinct 
 articulation, just emphasis, and proper modulation, it is impos- 
 sible that he should do justice to the sublime descriptions of 
 poetry, or the animated language of the passions. 
 
 VOL. I,
 
 CHAP. XVI. 
 
 ON THE METHOD OF STUDYING THE 
 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 Gregory's Letters Blair's Lectures Barrow's Lectures Lord Karnes's 
 Elements of Criticism Priesttey's Lectures on Oratory and Criticism 
 Mason's Essays, &e. &c. 
 
 In a work of limited extent, and which is to serve as a 
 directory to the young on man)', not to say the circle of 
 sciences, it cannot be expected that we should be very full on 
 any one subject. It is, however, presumed, that the foregoing 
 chapters on the Belles Lettres, may be regarded as a concise 
 introduction, or practical guide, to the arts of Composition 
 and Criticism, which are the chief desiderata in polite learn- 
 ing. For those, however, who have imbibed a taste for 
 English literature, our directions will not be deemed suffi- 
 ciently extensive. If they have entered into, and feel the ad- 
 vantages likely to be derived from the pursuit, as described in 
 the first chapter, which has been chiefly taken from the ma- 
 nuscript lectures of an elegant scholar, the late learned and 
 excellent Dr. Kippis, they will be anxious to enlarge their 
 acquaintance with a branch of knowledge, calculated at once 
 to excite their interest, and yield tlie most solid instruction 
 and improvement. 
 
 In recommending a plan of study on the Belles Lettres, we 
 can do little more than refer the reader to those works, from
 
 PLAN OF STUDY, &c. 227 
 
 which we ourselves liave borrowed largely in the composition 
 of this department of our work. One of the first books that 
 we would put into the hands of a young person desirous of be- 
 coming acquainted with the general principles of polite literature, 
 is the late Dr. George Gregory's " Letters on Literature, 
 Taste, and Composition," which contain the result of various 
 observations, made by a vigorous and cuUivated mind, upon 
 the different subjects under discussion. 
 
 Dr. Gregory commences his volumes with a philosophical 
 but popular analysis of those principles of association, from 
 which we derive the pleasure that is excited by the study of 
 the fine arts. His remarks on this phenomenon of the mind, 
 may be considered as illustrative of Dr. Stewart's speculations 
 on the same point, to which we shall have occasion to refer. 
 The doctor then endeavours to explain this principle, con- 
 tinuing his inquiry, by some judicious remarks on style, and 
 the sources of fine composition. His letters on the Sublime, 
 Pathetic, and Ludicrous, will amply repay a close attention : 
 they are short, but full of interest and sound instruction. From 
 these our author carries us to a more particular detail of the 
 component parts of Eloquence, and an examination of the 
 essentials of good writing. Under this branch of his subject 
 he comes to the consideration of language, the perspicuity, 
 purity, and harmony of sentences, and the graces of good 
 composition. On these subjects, as well as on the different 
 usages and figures of speech, we have conducted the reader 
 to a certain distance ; he will find them treated more at large 
 by Dr. Gregory, and illustrated by a greater number of ex- 
 amples, than we had room to admit. He next advances to 
 a more enlarged view of composition. The several methods 
 of analysis and synthesis in a logical discourse, are well ex- 
 plained and appreciated ; the different kinds of oratory, viz. 
 that of the senate, the bar, and the pulpit, are neatly con- 
 trasted, and the rise and progress of eloquence are described 
 with accuracy and spirit. 
 
 Dr. Gregory begins his second volume with a comparison 
 
 1?2
 
 1^28 BELLES LETT RES. 
 
 of the difficulties attending the perfect composition of an ^- 
 gumentativc or oratorical discourse, witli those which must be 
 encountered by the historian. The narrative style he coiv> 
 siders as the most dithcult of attainment. His observations 
 on this subject are so excellent and so practical, that we shall 
 trar)scribe a part of them for the benefit of those who may 
 not have an opportunity of perusing the work itself. 
 
 " T^et any man of letters try to compose an argumentative, 
 or even an oratorical discourse, and let him afterwards attempt 
 a narrative, and he will soon find the latter by fur the more 
 difficult task. It is difficult to form and pursue a lucid order 
 and arrangement ; it is difficult, out of the number of cir- 
 cumstances which will crowd upon him, to select those only 
 which are important and striking ; to know where to be brief 
 and where to be minute ; to distinguish the lights and the 
 shades ; to see on what he ought to enlarge, and what he 
 should cursorily pass over. It is exceedingly difficult to avoid 
 a flat and monotonous tone ;^ to give spirit, animation, and 
 interest to a mere recital of facts ; and that, w hen the writer 
 composes not under the influence of gassion, or the ardour of 
 controversy^ which in narrative is seldom the case 
 
 ** Perspicuity, it will be easily seen, is the first excellence 
 of narrative. The impressioti must be clear and vivid. 
 Whether the subject will admit of ornament or not, is a re- 
 mote consideration, compared with this indispensable quality. 
 On this account, the writer of even an extended history should 
 take care to have a clear and comprehensive view of the sub- 
 ject in his mind, at least to a given period. He should see it 
 as a picture or a drama before his eyes, previous to his begin- 
 ning to compose. If he lijjs this view of the subject before 
 him, he will easily, if he has judgment and taste, distinguish 
 the parts or circumstances which should be treated in detail, 
 from those which should be transiently glanced at, or perhaps 
 wholly omitted. 
 
 *' To have a just and comprehensive view of his subject 
 previously formed, (at least to a certain e.xtent as to the order
 
 PLAN OF STUDY, kc. 229 
 
 of time^ will enable an author to write with vivacity, and to 
 interest his readers, for he will describe within a shorter com- 
 pass, 9nd in a manner less dull and tedious than the person 
 who transcribes every circumstance from a note book ; and 
 the fancy will have a more unbounded range, and be able to 
 throw in more of ornament and eloquence. 
 
 '* As in the style of narrative perspicuity is the first object, 
 an author should be careful that every sentence may present a 
 distinct image ; for nothing confuses more than when several 
 circumstances are blended or complicated one with another. 
 Yet for tiie sake of harmony, and to avoid a monotonous tone, 
 which is a very common vice of narration, the sentences must 
 not be too short 
 
 ^' The degree of ornament or figure ttf be employed, must 
 depend, in a great measure, on the subject ; but in general it is 
 safer to attempt too little in the way of ornament than too much. 
 Nothing tends more to confuse a narrative than a style too 
 florid ; though figurative language, sparingly and judiciously in- 
 troduced, occasionally gives animation. The comparison is a 
 figure too flat and formal to suit with narrative, and almost 
 the only figure which may be freely employed is the meta- 
 phor. But even metaphors, when introduced, should be easy 
 and natural, for recondite or remote allusions perplex the 
 inind, and withdraw the attention from the subject. They 
 must not be common-place neither, for nothing renders a 
 style so frigid as common-place ornaments. But after all, 
 the attentive and studious perusal of the best writers in this, 
 as well as in every other department, will effect infinitely more 
 ihao any abstract rules or observations whatever. Read care- 
 fully the most approved narrators; mark their manner of 
 bringing events and circumstances before your view ; observe 
 their mode of connecting them ; the compass and turn of 
 their periods. You will see that there is nothiug abrupt ; 
 nothing either defectively terminated, or violently or harshly 
 introduced ; or where there is a deviation from the thread or 
 course of the story, the reader's micd is prepared by a short
 
 2S0 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 introduction or apology, so that the smoothness and svnplicity 
 of the narrative shall not be materially interrupted. As you 
 will have to write in English, i would advise you to study the 
 best models in your own language, for none has better writers 
 of narrative. It will also be an improving exercise, if, after 
 having read a long passage, and made yourself master of the 
 facts, you close the book and try to narrate them yourself, 
 when the comparison will shew you your own defects, and 
 enable you to avoid them on a future occasion. For the 
 grave kind of narration, examine the style of Robertson, Hume, 
 Gibbon, Goldsmith,* and Dr. Haw kesworih's Voyages ; for 
 the lighter and more familiar kinds, the short narratives in 
 the Spectator, especially those of Mr. Addison; some of a 
 similar nature in the Rambler of Dr. Johnson; and the Ad- 
 venturer of Dr. Hawkesworlh, will afford you unexceptionable 
 specimens." 
 
 The criticisms of Dr. Gregory on the ancient and modern 
 Historians, from Herodotus to Gibbon ; on the Annalists and 
 Biographers of our own country, on the writers of Voyages 
 and Travels, Fictitious Narrative, and Epistolary writing, 
 are well adapted to inform the mind, strengthen the judg- 
 ment, and improve the taste of young persons, and, as such, 
 cannot be too strongly recommended to their attention. A 
 brief but excellent account of poetry follows the subjects 
 already noticed : its various descriptions are correctly classi- 
 fied ; and the authors who have excelled in each, are ranked 
 without prejudice or partiality, we conceive, according to their 
 most legitimately acknowledged precedence. 
 
 If, therefore, a young person desirous of extending his 
 knowledge in polite hterature, be limited either in the time that 
 he can expend in study, or in the means of possessing himself 
 of a number of books, we hav6 no scruple in recommending 
 
 The History of England, in a series of Letters from a Nobleman to 
 his Son, is an admirable iperimen of historical language, sufficiently fanii* 
 liar, withoat any lou of dignity.
 
 PLAN OF STUDY, &C. 231 
 
 Dr. Gregory's Letters, as a work that will answer all com- 
 mon purposes. 
 
 Dr. Blair's Lectures on Rhetoric and Belles Lettres, well 
 deserve a place in the library of the student in polite litera- 
 rature. They were originally published in two volumes, 4to. 
 but have gone through a great number of editions in three 
 volumes, 8vo. In recommending this work to the reader's 
 attention, we need do little more than briefly enumerate the 
 contents of the several volumes. 
 
 The first volume contains introductory dissertations on 
 Taste, Genius, and Criticism :'~-on the sources of the pleasures 
 of Taste, Sublimity, Beauty, Novelty, Imitation, and De- 
 scription ; and on the rise and progress of language and 
 writing. In this part of the work, the prhiciples of Universal 
 Grammar are investigated, and these principles applied to the 
 English tongue. From this, the author proceeds to style, 
 which is treated of under the two heads of Perspicuity aud 
 Ornament. The former is considered, as it relates to the 
 choice of single words aud phrases ; and under the latter are 
 examined the origin and nature of figurative language. 
 
 In the second volume, the general characters of style are 
 explained, and directions are given for forming a style. 
 These are followed by critical analyses of the style of some 
 papers of the Spectator, and of a passage from the writings 
 of Swift, which abound with much useful criticism, and 
 merit the attention of those who would understand the prin- 
 ciples of good writing. 
 
 The author next treats of Eloquence, properly so called, 
 or public speaking, in its different departments. In this part, 
 the eloquence of the bar, that of the pulpit, and that of 
 popular assemblies, are illustrated at considerable length, and 
 will be extremely useful to those who are practically engaged 
 in the learned professions. Dr. Blair has drawn with a 
 masterly hand, the characters of several of the most dis- 
 tinguished English writers, viz. Swift, Tillotson, Addison, 
 Shaftesbury and Bolingbroke. These in general are accu-
 
 232 BEIXES LETTRES. 
 
 rate and highly fiubhed dehneations. The predotninaiit aod 
 characteristical manner of each author is happily seized on, 
 and exhibited in striking colours. To illustrate Dr. Blair's 
 manner, rather than to give proof of our assertions, we will 
 transcribe his character of L(Ord Bolingbroke. He is speak- 
 ing of the vehement style, which implies strength, but 
 which is not inconsistent with simplicity. It is, he says, a 
 gloning style, the language of a man whose imagination and 
 passions are heated, and strongly affected by w hat he writes ; 
 who is therefore negligent of lesser graces, but pours himself 
 forth with the rapidity and fullness of a torrent. It belongs 
 to the higher kinds of oratory, and indeed is rather expected 
 from a man who is speaking, than from one who is writing in 
 bis closet. The orations of Demosthenes furnish the full and 
 perfect example of this species of style. Among English 
 writers, the one who had most of this character, though 
 mixed with several defects, is Lord Bolingbroke. 
 
 " Bolingbroke," he adds, " was formed by nature to be 9 
 factious leader ; the demagogue of a popular assembly. Ac- 
 cordingly^ the style that runs through all his political writings, 
 is that of one declaiming with heat, rather than writing with 
 deliberation. He abounds with rhetorical figures ; and pours 
 forth with great impetuosity. He is copious to a fault; 
 places the same thought before us m many different views, 
 but generally with life and ardour. He is bold rather thai; 
 correct ; a torrent that flows strong but often muddy. His 
 sentences are varied as to length and shortness; inclining, 
 however, most to long ppriods, sometimes including paren- 
 theses, and frequently crowding and heaping a multitude of 
 things upon one another, as naturally happens in the warmth 
 pf speaking. In the choice of words, there is great felicity 
 and precision. In the exact construction of sentences, he is 
 much inferior to Lord Shaftesbury, but greatly superior to 
 him in life and ease." 
 
 In his third volume, Dr. Blair, after giving a comparative 
 yiew of the merit of the ancients and moderns, and maki^ig
 
 PLAN OF STUDY, &c. 233 
 
 Some observaitions on the different styles of Historical, Phi- 
 losophical and Epistolary writing, with remarks on Dialogue 
 and Fictitious History, devotes himself entirely to Poetry, in 
 which is included the Drama. This part of the work, which 
 to many readers will appear most interesting, contains a cri- 
 tical examination of the most distinguished species of poetical 
 compositions. i 
 
 A work of similar import to that of Dr. Blair, is entitled 
 " Lectures on Belles Lettres and Logic, by the late William 
 Barron, professor of Belles Lettres and Logic in the Univer- 
 sity of St. Andrews" in two vols. 8vo. These lectures, as 
 far as the Belles Lettres are concerned, treat: 1. Of the 
 structure of language, and the properties of style. 2. Of 
 spoken language, or eloquence, as proper for deliberative as- 
 semblies, courts of justice, and the pulpit. 3. Of written 
 language, or the most eminent kinds of composition in prose 
 and verse. The reader, if he have an opportunity of 
 comparing the lectures of Mr. Barron with those of Dr. 
 Blair, will find a great similarity in the subjects discussed ; in 
 those of Mr. Barron, the arriftigement is often more clear 
 and lucid, but the author is evidently indebted to his pre- 
 decessor for much of what is excellent and valuable in his' 
 work, and unfortunately there is no acknowledgment made of 
 the obligations due to him. In justification of Mr. Barron, it 
 must be observed, that the lectures were published after his 
 death, and before they had undergone his own revision, and 
 preparation for the press. The omission complained of does 
 not affect their value to the student ; he is concerned only with 
 the information which they are calculated to convey ; and cer- 
 tainly Mr. Barron's Lectures may be studied with great advan- 
 tage, either with or without the aid of other works on the 
 same subject. 
 
 " Elements of Criticism," by Lord Kames, is a very valu- 
 able work connected with the study of Belles Lettres: it 
 was published more than half a century ago, and maintains, at 
 the present time, a high reputation among the learned. It was
 
 234 -BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 in truth the first considerable work on the subject of criti- 
 cism in our language ; and every subsequent writer, whether 
 he acknowledge it or not, is greatly indebted to his Lordship 
 for the number of examples which he collected, and for the 
 value and profundity of his. remarks and observations. He 
 was well acquainted with the human mind, and applied his 
 knowledge to the illustrations and investigation of the science 
 which he undertook to establish on a solid foundation. 
 
 Lord Karnes introduces his work with some curious ob- 
 servations concerning the impressions which we receive from 
 the senses. He next traces the progress of our pleasures, 
 among which the organic take the lead, though they are of short 
 duration : when prolonged, he says, they lose their relish ; when 
 indulged to excess, they beget satiety and disgust. The plea- 
 sures of the eye and ear succeed, and prepare us for enjoying 
 internal objects, where there cannot be an organic impression. 
 He then proceeds to recommend the cultivation of those plea- 
 sures of the eye and ear especially, which require extra- 
 ordinary culture, such ' as are inspired by poetry, painting, 
 music, gardening and architecAire. The principles of the fine 
 arts, he observes, are evolved by studying the sensitive part of 
 human nature, and by learning what objects are naturally 
 agreeable, and what are naturally disagreeable. The man who 
 aspires to be a critic in these arts, must pierce still deeper. 
 He must clearly perceive what objects are lofty, what are low 
 what are proper or improper, what are manly, and what are 
 mean or trivial. Hence a foundation for judging of taste, and 
 for reasoning upon it. Where it is conformable to principles, 
 we can pronounce with certainty that it is correct. Thus the 
 fine art^, like morals, become a rational science, and like 
 morals, may be cultivated to a high degree of refinement. 
 
 Manifold, says his lordship, are the advantages of criti- 
 cism, when thus studied as a rational science. A thorough 
 acquaintance viih ihe principles of the fine arts redoubles 
 the pleasure which we derive from them. To the man who 
 resigns himself to feeling, without interposing any judgment.
 
 PLAN OF STUDY, &c. 235 
 
 they become mere pastime, and will in time lose their power 
 over the mind, and be neglected ; but to those who deal in 
 criticism, as a regular science, governed by just principles, 
 and giving scope to judgment as well as to fancy, the fine 
 arts are a favourite entertainment, and will in old age 'main- 
 tain that relish which they produce in the morning of life. 
 
 In the next pjace, a philosophic inquiry into the princi- 
 ples of the fine arts, inures the reflecting mind to the most 
 enticing logic : the practice of reasoning upon .subjects so 
 agreeable, tends to a habit ; and a habit strengthening the 
 reasoning faculties, prepares the mind for entering into sub- 
 jects more intricate and abstract. This branch of science, 
 moreover, furnishes an inviting opportunity to exercise the 
 judgment ; we delight to reason upon subjects that are equally 
 pleasant and familiar : we proceed giadually from the simpler 
 to the more involved cases ; and in a due course of discipline, 
 custom, which improves all our faculties, bestows acuteness 
 on that of reason, sufficient to unravel all the intricacies of 
 philosophy. 
 
 Another advantage mentioned by our author, is, that the 
 reasonings employed on the fine arts, are of the same kind 
 with those which regulate our conduct. Rational criticism 
 tends to improve the heart, no less than the understanding. 
 It contributes to moderate the selfish affections, and is a strong 
 antidote to the turbulence of passion. Delicacy of taste, 6b- 
 tained by rational criticism, tends likewise, his lordship assumes, 
 to invigorate the social affections ; and is, in fact, the great sup- 
 port of morality. " I insist upon it," says he, " with entire 
 satisfaction, that no occupation attaches a man more to his 
 duty, than that of cultivating a taste in the fine arts: a just 
 relish of what is beautiful, proper, elegant and ornamental, is 
 a fine preparation for the same just relish of these qualities in 
 character and behaviour." 
 
 Having thus stated the advantages which Lord Karnes 
 considers as necessarily the result of the study recommended 
 and enforced by the " Elements of Criticism," he goes on to
 
 236 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 unfold the plan of his work, and the method which he has 
 taken to accomplish his object. " It is not," says he, ** the 
 author's intention to compose a regular treatise upon each of 
 the fine arts ; but only, in general, to exhibit their funda- 
 ment^ principles, drawn fiom human nature, the true source 
 of criticism. The fine arts are inended to entertain us, by 
 making pleasant impressions, and by that circumstance, are 
 distinguished from the useful arts : but in order to make plea- 
 sant impressions, we ought to know what objects are naturally 
 agreeable, and w hat naturally disagreeable. That subject is here 
 attempted, as far as is necessary for unfolding the genuine prin- 
 ciples of the fine arts ; and the author assumes no merit from 
 his performance, but that of evincing, perhaps more distinctly 
 than hitherto has been done, that these principles, as well as 
 every just rule of criticism, are founded upon the sensitive part 
 of our nature, W hat the author hath discovered or collected 
 upon that subject, he chooses to impart in the gay and agreeable 
 form of criticism ; imagining thai this form will be more relished, 
 and is, perhaps, no less instructive, than a regular and laboured 
 disquisition. His plan is to ascend gradually to principles, 
 from facts and experiments ; instead of beginning with the 
 former, handled abstractedly, and descending to the latter. 
 But, though criticism is thus his only declared aim, he will 
 not disow n, that all along it has been his view to explain the 
 nature of man, considered as a. sensitive being, capable of 
 pleasure or pain; and, though he flatters himself with having 
 made some progress in that important science, he is, how- 
 ever, too sensible of its extent and difficulty, to undertake 
 it professedly, or to avow it as the chief purpose of his pre* 
 sent work." * 
 
 We have been thus particular in describing Lord Karnes's 
 work, it being, as we have observed, the foundation on which 
 the others have been built : it is not, however, to be taken as 
 a first book on the subject, if the student has access to any of 
 those which have been before mentioned. Tlie " Elements 
 of Criticism," being more philosophical, and less practical,
 
 PLAN OF STUDY, &C. Q3>f 
 
 tlian ihe works either of Gregory, Blair, or Barron, but, 
 nevertheless, it is such as cannot fail_of affording to the dili- 
 gent and attentive student, much vahiable knowledge in the 
 fundamental principles of polite literature. 
 
 Dr. Priestley's Lectures on Oratory and Criticism, publish- 
 ed in 1777, in 4to., wiU.be found exceedingly useful in con- 
 junction with the " Elements of Criticism," or as a supple- 
 ment to the Belles Lettres department of this work, or the 
 other elementary treatises which we have noticed. The Doc- 
 tor brought forward his work, avowedly with a view to illus- 
 trate the doctrine of the association of ideas, to which there is 
 a constant reference through the whole of it, in order to ex- 
 plain facts, relating to the influence of oratory, and the strik- 
 ing effect of excellence in composition, upon the genuine 
 principlejs of human nature. The Doctor farther observes, 
 that at the time when he published this volume, the most 
 extensive work on the subject of criticism, was that of 
 Lord Kames, " to whom," says he, " I am indebted for a 
 very great number of my examples, especially those from the 
 dramatic writers, and sometimes for the observations too ; but 
 with respect to this subject, on which so many able men 
 have written, it is hardly possible to say to whom we are 
 ultimately obliged for any very valuable remark." 
 
 Dr. Priestley likewise acknowledges his obligations to Dr. 
 Ward's Lectures on Oratory, in two volumes 8vo., which we 
 also recommend to such of oiy readers, into whose hands 
 they may chance to fall. To these we must add, *' Essays on 
 Poetical and Prosaic numbers :" " On the Power and Har- 
 mony of Prosaic Numbers ;" and " On Elocution," by the 
 late Rev. John Mason ; and the article Poetry in Dr. Gregory's 
 Cyclopedia: to all which we ourselves have been indebted. 
 Dr. Crombie's work, already referred to in the chapter on 
 Grammar ; the rules for style, by Mr. Lindley Murray, and his . 
 Exercises; Mr. Irving's " Elements of English Compositjon;" t 
 and still more, Mr. Rippingham's " Rules for English Com-
 
 238 BELLES LETTRES. 
 
 position," will be found useful in the practice of the art, of 
 ^hich we are now treating. 
 
 If the youth, who is desirous of inraprovement in composi- 
 tion, be acquainted with the Latin or French, or any other 
 language than his own, he cannot do better than occasionally 
 translate passages from a classical author, into English, and 
 when he has done his best, if he compare them with an ex- 
 isting translation, he will perceive in what his own defects 
 consist, and be able to correct them. In this view, he 
 might take Cicero's treatise De Amicitia, or De Senectute, 
 and compare his own efforts with the version of Mr. Melmoth. 
 
 Another useful method will be, to read, or to hear read, 
 narratives, or other compositions, in various styles, and then 
 write down what is remembered, in the student's own lan- 
 guage ; and at first, without much regard to any thing except 
 correctness of thought. Writing down at home recollections 
 of sermons that are heard, without attempting to remember 
 the preacher's expressions, and occasionally allowing the mind 
 to follow its own train of ideas, has been recommended by 
 persons who have themselves benefitted by the practice. 
 
 With regard to original compositions, which must not be 
 omitted, the youth should, previously to his taking up his pen, 
 fix in his mind distinctly what object he has in view, what 
 subject he means to discuss, what fact he intends to illustrate, 
 what moral he wishes to inforce, or what circumstances he 
 has to narrate. When he has made up his mind on this, he 
 will next consider the several ways by which his object may 
 be attained, and having determined upon what appears to 
 him the best, let him patiently pursue it without deviation. 
 In his first essays, he will probably be short ; but modes of 
 amplification will, after some practice, readily occur. All 
 he should chiefly regard in his earlier attempts, is correctness 
 in the structure of his sentences ; and the bearing of his argu- 
 ment to ^e business in hand. Young persons are often de- 
 fective in breaking down tlieir thoughts into seutences, but on
 
 PLAN OF STUDY, &c. 239 
 
 this we have already treated at large. To 4t in judgment on 
 their own compositions, when they have not the assistance of 
 a t'uide, they will do well to lay aside for a few days what 
 they have composed, and tlien examine them by such rules of 
 criticism as they may be masters of. Of one thing they may 
 be certain, if they do, not themselves understand what they 
 have written, other people cannot. Learning to correct, 
 and not sparing their own compositions, are very important 
 points, and cannot be recommended too strongly. 
 
 Schemes have been given by Walker and others for theme- 
 writing, but we feel strong doubts as to the propriety of shack- 
 ling the minds of young people with those kinds of forms. If 
 they attempt to write on a subject of imagination, let the ima- 
 gination have fair and full play for the exercise of its powers : 
 no candid friend will throw cold water upon the rudest essays. 
 In matters of reasoning, they should digest their plan, and 
 minute down their leading divisions. 
 
 To conclude, young people will acquire a just taste for 
 composition, by the frequent perusal of those moral Essays, 
 which periodically appeared during the last century, and 
 which have been collected into volumes, and are generally 
 known under the denomination of British Classics. Such 
 are the Spectator, the Rambler, the Guardian, Adventurer, 
 &c. These will enrich the mind with a variety of choice 
 sentiments, and will inspire the reader not only with a love 
 of what is excellent, but with a readiness to imitate it. 
 " Whoever wishes," says Dr. Johnson, " to attain an Eng- 
 lish style, familiar but not coarse, and elegant but not os- 
 tentatious, must give his days and nights to the volumes of 
 Addison." 
 
 f 
 
 i
 
 H " % --*^*- 
 
 CHAP XVII. 
 
 ON HISTORY. 
 
 Utility, pleasures, and advantages attendant on the study of History ; illus- 
 trated by Bp. Burnet Cicero Dionysius. Study of History favourable 
 to freedom to the attainment of practical experience to a just depW 
 dance on a superintending providence Sources of History ; oral tradition 
 poetry public festivals erection of pillars monumental inscriptions 
 existing laws records of courts of justice archives of the state 
 public treaties manifestoes negociations ^progress of statistical science 
 family history. 
 
 The study of History is universally popular. It is equally 
 attractive to the unreflecting and to the philosophical mind. 
 The former it interests by the agitation and stimulus of novel- 
 ty the latter by the usefulness of the deductions which may 
 be drawn from the facts which it records. By some philoso- 
 phers, who have affected a more than ordinary degree of pe- 
 netration, or at least of research, into the constitution of the 
 human mind, this general attachment to the study of History 
 has been ascribed to the principle of self-love.* The utility of 
 these refined speculations may be called into question : they 
 are generally founded on visionary notions, and are almost uni- 
 formly unsatisfactory in their results. In this instance how- 
 
 * See the commencement of BoUngbroke's second Letter on the study of 
 History. 
 
 i
 
 USES OF HISTORY. 241*^ 
 
 ever, the metaphysician admits the fact of the high gratification 
 which is derived from historical inquiries. This fact is indeed 
 so universally acknowledged, that in the public estimation, a 
 person, who is not tolerably well versed in historical knowledge, 
 is precluded from a copious source of amusement, as well as 
 lamentably deficient in the requisites of a liberal education. 
 An individual of this description is incapable of entering upon 
 the most frequent and the most common topics of enlightened 
 converse. He cannot ever comprehend the nature, or discuss 
 the tendency, of passing events. It has been well observed, 
 by an ancient author, " nesdre quid accident antequam 
 natus sis, est semper puerum esse" 
 
 Were the study of History considered in no other light than 
 as an innocent and elegant amusement, it would be in no 
 small degree commendable. Whatever enables man to be- 
 guile the weariness of the journey of life, without debasing the 
 mind, or inflaming the passions, produces an accession to hu- 
 man felicity, and is proportionally valuable. 
 
 In this point of view. History, when considered merely as a 
 source of amusement, is infinitely preferable to novels and ro- 
 mances, the perusal of which too frequently debilitates the in- 
 tellect by inflaming the imagination, and insensibly corrupts 
 the heart by the infusion of a most dangerous species of moral 
 poison. 
 
 But the study of History is adapted to purposes of a higher 
 and a more noble nature. It is calculated to enlighten the 
 judgment upon those subjects which have a direct bearing not 
 only upon individual utility and comfort, but also upon the 
 welfare of the community at large. It leads to a knowledge 
 of man in his social relations. It exhibits the various opera- 
 tion of different systems of polity upon human happiness. It 
 points out the rocks and quicksands upon which states and 
 empires have suffered shipwreck. It speaks with a warning 
 voice to the oppressor, and infuses consolation and courage 
 into the oppressed. Upon the high principle of religious mo- 
 tives, virtue has been roused to exertiQU, or has been strength- 
 
 VOL. I. R
 
 242 HISTORY. 
 
 ened to the endurance of remediless wrong, bj a belief in a fu- 
 ture state. Where this principle has been unfortunately want- 
 ing, hope has fondly anticipated, as the reward of illustrious 
 deeds, the verdict of history. 
 
 Who is not affected by the glowing terms in which Cicero, 
 after having saved the Roman republic from the treasonable 
 pests of Catiline, intimates that he looks forward for his reward 
 to the honour in which he should be held by posterity. 
 " Quibus pro tantis rebus, Quirites, nullum ego d vobis pre- 
 mium virtutis, nullum insigne honoris, nullum monumentum 
 laudis postulo, praeterquam liujus diei memorium sempiteniara. 
 In animis ego vestiis omnes triumphos mcos, omnia ornamenta 
 jbonoris, monumenta gloriae, laudis insignia condi et coUocari 
 volo. Nihil me mutum potest delectarc, nihil taciturn, nihil 
 denique hiijusmodi quod ctiam minus digni assequi possint. 
 Memorial vestrll, Quirites, nostras res alentur, sermonibus cres- 
 cent, literaruoi monumentis inveterascent et corroborabuiitur : 
 eandemque diem intelligo, quani spero seternam fore, et ad 
 salutem urbis, et ad memoriam consulate mei propagatam." 
 In L. Catii. Orot. III. subfmem. 
 
 In the season of adversity, Hope has looked forward with 
 confidence to the period when the dazzling glare of spurious 
 glory shall be absorbed in the superior brightness of the rays 
 of truth ; and when the historic Muse, pointing to the issues 
 of things, and to the unfolding of the great drama of politics, 
 shall vindicate the claims of justice ; shall exhibit delinquency 
 in its true colours, and shall bestow on integrity its due re- 
 ward.* 
 
 In the transactions of life, it unfortunately happens that cor- 
 ri^tiou and depravity are not discountenanced to that degree 
 which reason and a regard to the public good require. Nay, 
 they are too frequently hailed by the sycophancy of flatterers 
 
 * Tacitus ill the tliird book of \\\i Annals, tliax tersely states liis opinion 
 as to this provinre of History," Praccipuuin muDus Annalium reor, ne virtu- 
 tea aileantur, atqe pravis dictis factisque ex posteritate et iofamli metus 
 siU"
 
 USES OF HISTORY. 243 
 
 with obsequious approbation, and with high applause. They 
 that are " worn and hackneyed in the ways of men/' affect to 
 treat with scorn the dictates of political integrity. They de- 
 spise the admonitions of those who wish to inculcate the doc- 
 trine, that the laws of justice cannot, even in political transac- 
 tions and relations, be violated with impunity. ^They hold up 
 to the ridicule of the thoughtless and the profligate, those who 
 maintain ihat it is the duty of every individual possessed of 
 any degree of influence in the conduct or in the control of 
 public aff^airs, to consult, above all things, for the welfare of his 
 country, by devoting his talents from the purest and most dis- 
 interested motives to the promotion of the general good. To 
 the ingenuous y6uth an attentive perusal of the pages of his- 
 tory may be properly recommended, as furnishing an antidote 
 against the mischief which is likely to be occasioned by the 
 selfish and heart-chilling maxims of these pernicious teachers. 
 There he Will see a striking exemplification of the fatal conse- 
 quences of error and prejudice, of folly and vice. Then will 
 he behold the deceiver entangled in the toils which he had laid 
 for others, and the vindictive and the violent hurried to de- 
 struction by their own ungovernable impetuosity. There too 
 he will find recorded the actions and the sayings of patriots of 
 high principle ; and by -imbibing a sense of the dignity of their 
 characters, he will be incited to an emulation of their virtues. 
 
 It may perhaps with truth be asserted, that few individuals ever 
 intermixed in practical politics with purer views than Bishop Bur- 
 net. That celebrated author, towards the conclusion of the His- 
 tory of his own Times, when speaking of the degeneracy of the 
 age in which he lived, intimates in the following terms, his 
 opinion of the evil consequences resulting to those who occu- 
 pied the higher stations in society, from the neglect of histori- 
 cal studies : " Men, who have no principles, cannot be steady ; 
 now the greater part ot the capital gentry seem to return again 
 to a love of tyranny, provided they may be the under-tyrants 
 themselves ; and they seem to be even uneasy with a court, 
 
 B 3 *
 
 244 HISTORY. 
 
 when it will not be as much a court as they would have it* 
 This is a folly of so particular a nature, that really it wants a 
 name. It is natural for poor men who have little to lose and 
 much to hope for, to become the instruments of slavery ; but 
 it is an extravagance peculiar to an age, to see rich men grow 
 as it were in love with slavery and arbitrary power. The root 
 of all this is, that our gentry are not in time possessed with a 
 true measure of solid knowledge and sound religion, with a 
 love to their country^ o hatred of tyranny, and a zeal for li- 
 berty. Plutarch's lives, with the Greek and Roman history, 
 ought to be early put in their hands; they ought to be ac- 
 quainted with all history, more particularly that of our ovm 
 nation; which they should Jiot read in abridgments, but in 
 the fullest and most copious collectors of it, that they may see 
 to the bottom what is our constitution, and what are our 
 laws; what are the methods bad princes have taken to enslave 
 us, and by what conduct we hate been preserved. Gentlemen 
 ought to observe these things, and to entertain one another 
 often upon these subjects, to raise in themselves and to spread 
 around them to all others a noble ardour for law and 
 liberty."* 
 
 Nor let it be imagined, that remarks such as these, though 
 just in themselves are applicable only to the favoured few who 
 sit at the helm of the state, and direct the course of public af- 
 fairs. It may at least be safely asserted, that in a country 
 which enjoys so great a portion of civil liberty as happily falls 
 to the lot of the inhabitants of the British empire, almost 
 every order of the community has its influence upon the mea- 
 
 It was not merely with a view of gratifying the ear of liis reader with 
 the jingle of alHteration,thatthe good Bisliup in this passage thus associated 
 the terms " law and liberty." He was well aware that the ideas represented 
 by these terms can never be disanited tliat as liberty can never be reck- 
 oned secure unless it be fenced and guarded by legal provisions so the ex- 
 ercise of tme liberty consists, not in the indulgence of a capricious viiU, but 
 ^ a course of action which is sauctioaed by law.
 
 USES OF HISTORY. 245 
 
 antes of the Iegilative and of the executive powers ; and that 
 therefore, upon the principles of Bishop Burnet, a knowledge 
 of History siiould be diffused amongst our countrymen to as 
 wide an extent as possible. For it is a self-evident proposi- 
 tion, that it is highly expedient that they who are called upon 
 to deliberate on matters of the highest moment, should be pos- 
 sessed of the guide which is the most likely to lead them to a 
 correct decision. And in the case in question, this guide is to 
 be found in the study of History, which is calculated to form 
 good citizens, and to ornament society with integrity. It was 
 in this view that Cicero denominated History " magistra 
 vit(By* the preceptress of the art of living well. To the same 
 purpose , Dionysius Halicarnassus has, in a maxim which has 
 been repeatedly quoted with high approbation, characterized 
 History as " Philosophy teaching by examples." A familiar 
 acquaintance with the history of their country was, in the best 
 times of the Roman Republic, held to be essentially requisite 
 to qualify ingenuous youth for the attainment of stations of 
 dignity, power, and profit, in the administration of public af- 
 fairs. Hence the bitterness of the sarcasm uttered by Marius, 
 when he asserted, in the speech in which he claimed the chief 
 command of the war against Jugurtha, that in his degenerate 
 days, men of illustrious birth did not begin to read the His- 
 tory of their country till they were elevated to the highest office 
 of the state that is, as he said " they first obtained the em- 
 ployment, and then bethought themselves of the qualifications 
 necessary for the proper discharge of it" 
 
 Political Freedom indeed gives additional efficacy, and 
 imparts an additional value to individual virtue, and conse- 
 quently to those lessons of virtue which are to be learned by 
 the study of History. This study, when prosecuted under 
 propitious circumstances, produces that expansion of mind 
 which is incompatible with the benumbing and debasing con- 
 dition of slavery. If a modern Greek reads the story of the 
 gallant onset made by Thrasybulus upon the oppressors of his 
 country, he reads it with the apathy of indifference, or with
 
 246 HISTORY. 
 
 the sigh of despair:* but the example of Hampden is still 
 fresh in the renieinbraiice of Enj^li.>>hmcn, to incite them to a 
 determined and vigorous resistance against the tii^t encroach- 
 ments of arbitrary power. 
 
 It is the practical use which may be made of History, 
 which constitutes one of its chief recommendations, as con- 
 trasted with the fabulousness of romance. " History, as 
 Dr. Priestley well observes, " presents us with the same objects 
 which we meet with in the business of life." Hence it atiords 
 to men of thoughtful mind, a happy subject for. the exercise of 
 the judgment, and an excellent means of acquiring a certain 
 degree of experience, without incurring the hazards which are 
 incident to an actual intercourse with the world at large* 
 Hence too, it tends to mollify and to subdue the prejudices, 
 which are too apt to cloud the intellect of those whose know- 
 ledge of past transactions is partial and coniined. For as the 
 connexions of events are in a manner infinite, the examiuing 
 of them in their different relations at once gives strength to the 
 understanding, and liberality to the principles of the free 
 inquirer. It enables him to perceive, and duly to appreciate, 
 what is valuable in the institutions of ancient times, and of fo- 
 reign countries ; and thus prepares him for a due estimate of 
 the political regulations of his native land. To which may be 
 added, that the accurate acquaintance with the springs of ac- 
 tion, and with the consequences of political measures, which is 
 to be gained by a discreet application of the general principles 
 which are to be deduced from a knowledge of historical facts, 
 will enable the student to form a correct judgment of the ten- 
 dency of any course of political nreasures, which may happen 
 to be the practical subject of immediate discussion in his own 
 
 It 5honld seem, however, that the remembrance of the glory of our an- 
 cestors, is not entirely extinct anionf; the oppressed tribes, who now people 
 the islands and the continent of Gn-fce. When a celebrated modem tr. 
 veiler was sailing aion^ the coast of the Troad, a Greek seaman, one of his 
 boat's crew, pointing to a particular part of tl> shore, exclaimed " there 
 by our fleet." Under happy auspices, recollections of this oatore may pro* 
 duce signal and galatary efiects.
 
 USES OF HISTORY. 247 
 
 times. Thus may the study of History be regarded as pro- 
 moting the improvement of society, by imparting i<> the exist* 
 iug generation, the lessons which are to be gathered from the 
 experience of their predecessors. 
 
 Nor is it to be mentioned as a circumstance of minor im- 
 portance, that the study of History tends to convince the mari 
 of reflecting mind of the superintendence of the divine will in 
 the affairs of the world, and to inspire him with a cheerful ac- 
 quiescence in the dispensations of the deity. When we behold 
 tlie most important events brought about by the most seem- 
 ingly insignificant causes when we see the schemes of the in- 
 telligent and the prudent frustrated by circumstances, which 
 they could not possibly have taken into their calculation of 
 contingencies when we find the devices of the powerful 
 thwarted, and issuing in events, the very contrary to what they 
 intended to bring about and especially when we contemplate 
 the most signal good produced from apprehended evil, we are 
 irresistibly compelled to acknowledge the natural blindness and 
 weakness of man. We are awed and humbled to submission, 
 and we rejoice in the assurance that 
 
 ''There is a providence tliat shapes our ends, 
 Soiigh-hew them as we will. 
 
 In this brief enumeration of the principal uses to be de- 
 rived from the study of History, it is pre-supposed that histo- 
 rical facts are made the subjects of mature reflection. The 
 reader who contents himself with merely storing his mind with 
 a multiplicity of events, even though those events may be most 
 accurately arranged in his memory, will derive little profit 
 from a great expense of time and labour. 
 
 It seldom happens that persons who are remarkable for the 
 extent of their memory in the recollection of dates and of 
 other minutiae, are distinguished by the solidity of their judg- 
 ment. It is not, however, intended, by this observation, to 
 depreciate the study of chronology, which is absolutely ne- 
 cessary to a thorough acc^uaintaDce with History, and a com-
 
 248 HISTORY. 
 
 petent knowledge of which may, in early life, be acquired by 
 an easy effort. One tweniietli part of the time which is usually 
 devoted in grammar-schools, and that very properly, to the 
 instructing of pupils in the genders of Latin nouns, would be 
 amply sufficient to enable them to store up in their memory 
 all the chronological epochs, a knowledge of which is ne- 
 cessary or expedient. But after all, the chief object of a 
 preceptor ought to be to teach his scholar to seize the points 
 of importance in a historical narrative, and by the appli- 
 cation of his reasoning powers, to judge of the tendencies 
 of events. 
 
 Historical facts ought to be considered as materials for 
 thinking. If properly estimated, they serve, not simply to 
 amuse the imagination, but to exercise the nobler faculties of 
 the human mind, to strengthen the understanding, and to 
 amend the heart. To this topic may be justly applied the 
 observation of President Montesquieu, " II ne s*agit defaire 
 lire, mais defaire penser." 
 
 The origin of the sources of history is to be investigated by 
 observing, in remote ages, the early progress of civil society. 
 To say nothing of the pride of ambition, which engages human 
 ingenuity, and employs it in transmitting to future times the 
 memory of signal victories and of extensive conquests, in die 
 rudest stages of society, internal arrangements are agreed upon 
 by the members of infant communities; and treaties and 
 covenants are entered into by independent tribes. It is ob- 
 vious to tlie slightest consideration, that the desire entertained 
 by the parties concerned, to secure the memory of these ar- 
 rangements and covenants, would give rise to records, which 
 may be considered as the main sources of history. In the 
 imperfection of human knowledge, these records would, of 
 necessity, be first retained and handed down by the medium 
 of Oral Tradition. And as the genius of man in the ruder 
 ages of society is naturally inclined to the cultivation of 
 poetry; and as metrical compositions are best adapted to 
 make a permanent impression upon the memory, it is highly
 
 SOURCES OP HISTORY. 249 
 
 probable that the first historical memorials assumed a poetical 
 form. And this presumption is corroborated by numerous 
 hints which occur in the Greek and Latin writers, and by 
 observations which have been made upon the condition and 
 the customs of uncivilized nations in modern times. In the 
 poems of Homer, ' minstrels and heroes are represented as 
 singing to the music of the harp, the deeds of mighty chief- 
 tains of old.* And in Ovalle's Historical Relation of Chili, 
 we have the following curious account of the appearance of a 
 traditionary historian of that country. " For proof of the 
 care they take to keep the memory of remarkable passages, I 
 must relate here what I leamed from Father Diego Torres 
 Bollo, a very extraordinary man both for holiness of life and 
 skill in government. This great man, returning from Rome 
 (whither he had been sent as procurator of the province of 
 Peru) to found the province of Quito, he saw, in a place 
 where four ways met, an Indian, who, to the sound of a drum, 
 was singing a great many things all alone, in his own tongue ; 
 the father called one in his company, who understood it, and 
 asked him, what that Indian meant by that action ; who told 
 the father that the Indian was, as it were, the register of that 
 country, who, to keep up the memory of what had passed in 
 it, from the deluge to that time, was bound every holiday to 
 repeat it by the sound of a drum, and singing as he was then 
 doing. He was, moreover, obliged to instruct others in the 
 same way, that there might be a succession of men to do the 
 same thing after he was gone." 
 
 Even in modern times, the remembrance of the minute 
 circumstandes of History, is kept alive in ballads and party 
 poems, an extensive collection of which affords matter, not 
 
 * Tliu?, when Ulysses and Phoenix visited Achilles for the purpose of 
 deprecating his wrath, they found him playing on his lyre : 
 
 T^ o'y Bvfjiov eIe^wcv aitii) $' u^a nxia, 'avJjSv 
 
 and Tacitus, speaking of the German chieftain Arminias, says, (Annal. 
 L. II. C. 88.) " septem et triginta annos vitae, duodecim potentiae ex- 
 pievit, caniturque adhuc barbaras apud geotes."
 
 2.50 HISTORY. 
 
 Only of amusement, but also of accurate information, espe* 
 cially as to ilie feelings entertained by different classes of a 
 community, on the occurrence of specific political events. * 
 
 Another simple method of preserving the memory of past 
 transactions, is the commemoration of them by the observance 
 of stated days of public festivity, or humiliation. Thus the 
 migration of the children of Israel from g}pt, is still cele- 
 brated amongst their descendants, by the festival of the 
 Je^vish Passover; and the generality of the British youth 
 derive their earliest knowledge of two important events in the 
 kistory of their country, from the custom of wearing oak 
 brandies on the 29th of May, and of lighting bon-fires on 
 tlie 5lh of November. 
 
 Another method of preserving the memory of illustrious 
 personages, and of important events, apparently more effectual, 
 but in reality less so than the former, is the erection of unin" 
 scribed pillars, and monuments of stone or earth. What- 
 ever memorials of this kind have been erected before the in- 
 vention of alphabetical characters, have stood in need of the 
 aid of tradition to communicate a knowledge of the persons 
 and the events which they were intended to celebrate. But 
 the tradition may be lust, and that the more easily, in conse- 
 quence of the apparently greater durability of its substitute. 
 In that case, the object of the memorial finishes. It is an 
 awful admonition of the vanity of human pride, and at the 
 same time, a signal instance of the superiority of written re- 
 cords overall other historical memorials, that though the pyra- 
 mids of Egypt seem calculated to endure as long as the 
 
 earth itself, the date of their construction, and the object of 
 
 
 their erection, are absolutely unknown. 
 
 From these uninscribed monuments, the next step to the 
 
 perpetuating of the remembrance of remarkable events would 
 
 be registering them in monumental inscriptions, and on tables 
 
 of brass, stone, or other durable materials, exposed to public 
 
 view.* Hence the transition is, by just degrees, easy and 
 
 * Of thu, an instance is afforded in the celebrated Arimdeliaa marbles,
 
 SOURCES OP HISTORY. 251 
 
 natural, to the most copious accumulation of materials for 
 History, in the collecting and preserving written records or 
 authentic accounts of public transactions, composed by the 
 authority, and digested under the inspection, oi persons hold- 
 ing the higher offices in the state. These would of necessity 
 be at first but scanty, supplying little more than the dates and 
 order of events, without any detail of the circumstances by which 
 those events were accompanied, or of the causes from which 
 they derived their origin. But they woidd encrea^e in number 
 and importance with the progress of civilization ; they would 
 become more ample in proportion to the diffusion of litera- 
 ture ; and being deposited in places of safe custody, they 
 would constitute a rich mine of historic facts, authenticated 
 ky the best authority. To give a full enumeration of the 
 various species, and to point out the peculiar utility of the 
 different subdivisions of these records, would be an arduous 
 task. It may on the present occasion suffice briefly to men- 
 tion their principal classes. 
 
 And it is obvious to remark, that collections of the laws, 
 ordinances and internal regulations, enacted and enforced in a 
 state during any particular period of its history, are well cal- 
 culated to give an accurate view of the circumstances and con- 
 dition of its inhabitants at that period. I'hey give to those 
 who examine them with due attention, full intimation whether 
 they who constitute the great mass of the community, were then 
 exalted by liberty, or degraded by slavery ; whether their na- 
 tural rights were strictly guarded, or violently trampled upon. 
 They also apprize the reader, what were the prevaihng crimes 
 and vices of the age in which they were passed, and what 
 measure of punishment was deemed sufficient to expiate or to re- 
 press them. As records of taxation, and of fiscal regulations they 
 furnish a view of a nation's resources and of the course and 
 system of its commerce. The laws by which a country is 
 
 whidi exhibit the dates of the principal events of the Grecian history, till 
 sixty years after the death of Alexander the Great ; and the Capitoline 
 marbles, which contain a list of the Roman Magistrates, and the most 
 important occnrrences in the Annals of the Roman Republic.
 
 252 HISTORY. 
 
 governed, reflect on the attentive mind an image of the 
 genius of the people and their rulers. They supply the means 
 of detecting the ignorance of barbarism, and mark the pro- 
 gress of retineraent, and of mental culture. They exhibit 
 distinct traces of the usurpations, or of the depression of 
 monarchs, and of the power or the impotence of legislative 
 bodies. In short, a reference to collections of the laws of a 
 community is frequently necessary to correct the errors of 
 mere chroniclers, and to rectify the false conceptions of poli- 
 tical theorists; and, in all cases in which it can be made> 
 tends to promote tlie prime object of the historian's researches, 
 namely, the establishment of truth. 
 
 Many of the preceding observations may be applied to de- 
 monstrate the utility, which the historian may derive from the 
 records of Courts of Law. These furnish a vast variety of 
 historical facts most minutely investigated. In their pages 
 may be traced the artful devices of injustice, and the amend- 
 ment of judicial principles and practice. They serve as a 
 warning against that worst species of tyranny, oppression 
 under the forms of law and exemplify the superior felicity 
 enjoyed by nations, when the lives and liberties of their citi- 
 zens are securely fenced by legal provisions against the en- 
 croachments of power.* 
 
 r The public archives in which are preserved original grants 
 of titles, estates, and immunities, contain documents which 
 throw great light upon the internal history of states and king- 
 domsnor will the student, who wishes fully to investigate 
 many historical questions, refuse their due praise to heralds, 
 genealogists, and antiquarians ; whose labours, though fre- 
 quently made the subjects of ridicule, are, nevertheless, on 
 many occasions extremely useful to the historian, 
 tiy The reports, made by the governors of distant provinces to 
 
 It nay be with troth affirmed that no one can form an adequate and 
 
 correct idea of the gradual amendment effected in the institutions of oor 
 
 'native country, and of the value of those constitutional principles, from 
 
 t^Hiich those amendments have been naturally derived, who has not read 
 
 with attention the State Trials of England. r. 42* .^jl. l/, j;1
 
 SOURCES OF HISTORY. 253 
 
 the seat of government in the mother country, detail the diffi- 
 culties experienced in the infancy of colonization. They mark 
 the gradual growth of emigrant communities. They afford 
 important hints of warning and instruction. By their aid may 
 be traced the rise and progress of ideas of independence, 
 from the first impatient murmurs against restrahit, to the bold 
 and manly struggle to throw off the yoke of despotism. 
 
 The recording of treaties with foreign powers, is an obvious 
 method of preserving the remembrance of the external rela- 
 tions of a country ; and the dispatches of envoys and embassa 
 dors, especially the confidential communications made by di- 
 plomatic agents to the executive branches of their respective 
 governments, lay open to view the most secret springs of 
 political conduct. How clearly is the policy, or rather the 
 impolicy, of our King Charles I. and of his unfortunate 
 successor, to be traced in the official letters of Barillon, which 
 have been laid before the public by Sir James Dalrymple and 
 Mr. Fox ; and what a striking picture do we behold of the 
 difficulties incident to the administration of a free government, 
 in the papers of Sir Robert Walpole and his associates in 
 office, as published by Mr. Coxe in the appendix to his Life of 
 Sir Robert Walpole. Though a degree of obscurity is thrown 
 upon some parts of this work, in consequence of its author's 
 not sufficiently opening the general history of the times of 
 which he treats, it is, in the main, highly interesting and in- 
 structive ; and, above all, it evinces, what is a quality of rare 
 occurrence in a political biographer, a candid and unpreju- 
 diced mind. The appendix, which occupies ten volumes 
 supplementary to the life, contains an abundance of docu- 
 ments which disclose the secret springs of many political 
 transactions, and which will teach the young to regard with 
 due scepticism the professions of public men ; to vvhich it 
 may be added, that the collection of letters, of which the ap- 
 pendix principally consists, exhibits an interesting variety of 
 style, rising in excellence through just degrees, from the 
 clumsy coarseness of Chancellor Middleton, to the graceful 
 ase of the profligate Bolingbroke.
 
 254 HISTORY. 
 
 It is impossible, in many cases, correctly to decide upon 
 the merits or the demerits of commanders of fleets and armies, 
 M'ithont an ins]>ei tion of such returns of their fortes, and of 
 8uch details of their plans, and the reasons of their movements, 
 as they are accustomed, from time to time, to submit to their 
 superiors. A mere atlen'ion to dates will apprize the readers 
 of gazettes, that General Washington, hi the years 1775 and 
 1776, lay encamped before the town of Boston, at the head 
 of a force far superior to that of the British, for tlie space of 
 nine months, without striking a blow. The general's official 
 correspondence with Congress, accounts for his seeming dila- 
 toriness, by revealing the astonishing fact, that, during a great 
 part of this time', he was so scantily provided with powder, 
 that, had the British been aware of his situation, and marched 
 to attack him, be would have been under the necessity of 
 abandoning his position.* 
 
 Though the declarations and manifestoes which the rulers 
 of states, in deference to public opinion, are in modern times 
 accustomed to issue as a record of their mutual grievances, 
 and as apologies for disturbing the general tranquillity by an 
 appeal to arms, are usually drawn up with considerable arti- 
 fice, and with an anxious desire to distort fact^ and to disguise 
 the truth, to the discerning mind they not unfrequently afl^jrd 
 a clue for the tracing of political mysteries ; and are by no 
 means to be neglected by him who would wish to be well 
 versed in history. 
 
 The records which have been preserved of the instructions 
 given to plenipotentiaries, and of the successful and the un- 
 successful negociations which have, from time to time, taken 
 place between belligerent powers for the restoration of peace, 
 afford abundant matter of information and instruction to the 
 student of History. They admit the reader, as it were, be- 
 hind the curtain. Tliey reveal the views and expectations of 
 adverse powers ; their sense of strength, or their consciousness 
 of weakness ; the real as well as the pretended foundation of 
 
 * See WasliingtoD't Official Letters, published in Lood|J| p^i| 
 two ToU. octavo.
 
 SOURCES OF HISTORY. 2.55 
 
 their demands, and the true as well as the alleged reason of 
 their relinquishment of claims. They not unfrequently deve- 
 lope the whole system of the policy of a state, and while they 
 afford specimens of the mutual exercise of consummate dis- 
 simulation, they may be classed among the most valuable do- 
 cuments which can be submitted to the examination of an 
 historian. 
 
 Of HO less value are all those records which afford authentic 
 materials for statistical science ; namely, accurate accounts of 
 the population of different countries at several periods of 
 l^eir revenues their commerce, their naval^ military, and 
 religious establishments of their civil constitution, and the 
 condition of the various classes into which their inhabitants 
 are subdivided. 
 
 In addition to the information which is to be derived from 
 these public documents, much light is frequently thrown on 
 national transactions by the papers of individuals. The nia* 
 nagement of state affairs has been Well denominated " a 
 craft." It is esteemed one of the chief requisites of a poli- 
 tician, to be able to put a fair seeming upon the schemes in 
 which he is engaged, and he frequently adopts the most skilful 
 artifices to disguise the motives of his actions, and to conceal 
 from observation his ulterior views and designs. These, how- 
 ever, he, in all probability, reveals, either to his superiors 
 and employers,, or to his confidential friends. When com- 
 munications of this kind come to light, they obviously tend 
 to explain what is obscure in the conduct of political affairs, 
 and to give a full view of the truth. Of these repositories of 
 private confidence, the diligent and faithful historical inquirer 
 will be anxious to avail himself. In many points, the orations 
 of Cicero exhibit the outward appearance of public transac- 
 tions in which that true lover of his country was engaged ; but 
 the real natyre, quality, and purpose of some of the most 
 important of these transactions, are clearly to be understood 
 only by the perusal of his Epistles, in many of which he ap- 
 pears to have opened to his friends his most secret thoughts.
 
 256 HISTORY. 
 
 Tacitus, in the compiling, or rather in the composition of his 
 Annals, consulted not only the public records of the times of 
 which he treated, but also the private memoirs of such sena- 
 tors as had taken an active part in the conduct and manage- 
 ment of the affairs of the Roman empire.* 
 
 In this respect, the historian of modern times enjoys great 
 advantages over the writer who endeavours minutely to inves- 
 tigate the events of ancient history. There exists a rich abun- 
 dance of private memoirs and letters of such statesmen as 
 have, in later days, directed the affairs of almost every country 
 in Europe. These documents disclose the hidden causes of 
 many public proceedings which cannot, without their aid, be 
 thoroughly understood. They evince the occasional embar- 
 rassments of the rulers of nations, and display, in all their 
 deformity, the mean artifices of political intrigue, and the 
 interested manoeuvres of the crafty and dishonest, who have 
 abused the delegation of power. A careful perusal of their 
 pages will abate the ardour of political idolatry, and prepare 
 the free inquirer to investigate the truth with candour and im- 
 partiality. 
 
 The foregoing are the principal sources and repositories of 
 historical materials. Others, no doubt, may be enumerated. 
 The diligent and sagacious inquirer will glean facts from 
 quarters apparently the most unpromising and barren. What 
 is lost upon a careless or an ignorant reader, may dispense a 
 ray of light to the man who applies the powers of an active 
 mind to the investigation of historic truth. He who proposes 
 to himself this as his object, will not, when occasion requires 
 it, shrink with disgust from tlie toil of turning over heaps of 
 rubbish in search of a single pearl. Thus the intelligent and 
 industrious Gibbon, speaking of Uie works of Jerome, Au- 
 gustine, and Chrysostom, observes : "the smallest part of 
 these writings is of the historical kind ; yet the treatises which 
 
 Tims, in recordine the pruposn) to assaBsinate Anninins, made to the 
 Roman govemmeDt by Adgandestrin!i, n^ferring to his authorities, he yf, 
 *' Reperio apud scriptores, senatoresque eoruodem temporum."
 
 SOURCES OF HISTORY. 25? 
 
 seem the least to invite the curiosity of the reader, frequently 
 conceal very useful hints or very valuable facts. The polemic 
 who involves himself and his antagonists in a cloud of argu- 
 mentation, sometimes relates the origin and progress of the 
 heresy which he confutes; and the preacher who declaims 
 against the luxury, describes the manners of the age, and sea- 
 sonably introduces the mention of some public calamity, 
 that he may ascribe it to the justice of oflFended heaven." Thus 
 extensive is the field of investigation which lies open to the 
 historian ; thus various are the sources to which he must apply 
 in search of materials from which he may deduce the thread 
 of his narrative. 
 
 TOL. I,
 
 CHAP XVIII. 
 
 ANCIENT HISTORY. 
 
 First Historians mere Chroniclers Characteristics of a good Historian 
 Ancient Hktory, importance of General Histories and Compendiums, 
 Tnrsellin's Le Clerc'g Slcidan's Bossuet's Rollin's Millot's. Par- 
 ticular Histories, Gillies' History of Greece Hooke's Roman History 
 Gibbon. Course of Ancient History described. 
 
 As the Arts and Sciences, in general, attain to maturity bj 
 slow degrees, so the science of History, in particular, con- 
 tinued, for a lengthened period, in a state of infancy. The first 
 historians of every country were mere chroniclers of events, 
 the evidence of which rested on the uncertainty of tradition 
 and hearsay ; or which were in some degree, but in general 
 slightly, iovestigated by inquiries made in the course of foreign 
 and donaestic travel. Those simple narratives which are to 
 this day read with so much interest in the pages of Herodotus 
 and Froissart, were the fruits of many a long and painful 
 journey. It was in consequence of the personal, still more 
 than of the epistolary intercourse, which, during the barbarism 
 of the middle ages, tlie clergy of distant provinces and of 
 remote countries maintained with each other, that the mass of 
 true and false reports was collected, which, from the recesses 
 of monastic libraries, shed a dim light upon the period which 
 intervenes between the seventh and the fourteenth centiu-ies of
 
 ANCIENT HISTORY. 259 
 
 the Christian aera. For the monasteries were then the prin- 
 cipal, or rather the only refuge of literature. Within their 
 gloomy walls genius occasionally broke the trammels of super- 
 stition, and studious industry beguiled the dit)! uniformity of 
 the endless round of religious exercises. There chronicles 
 were compiled, transcribed, and deposited in, a custody which 
 was respected by the semi-barbarous chieftain, and even by 
 the lawless freebooter. In many of these compositions the 
 marvellous, as might be expected, frequently supersedes the 
 probable ; miracles and prodigies are more abundant than the 
 incidents of common life, and truth is obscured by fable. 
 The traditionary errors thus recorded, for some time obtained 
 implicit belief, and were handed down, by compiler after 
 compiler, to the credulity of successive generations. But as 
 knowledge was improved and extended, the scope of the his- 
 torian was enlarged ; his judgment became more discrimi- 
 nating, and his taste more fastidious. He rejected the fabu- 
 lous, the uninteresting, and the trifling matter which he found 
 in the writings of his precursors, or cited it only as a cha- 
 racteristic of the credulity of the age in which it was collected. 
 He fixed his principal attention upon topics of inquiry, the 
 discussion of which blended the entertaining with the useful. 
 By just degrees his character was matured ; till, by applying 
 to historical investigations the principles of sound philosophy, 
 he rose from the rank of a mere narrator to that of a guide in 
 morals, and an instructor in politics. 
 
 The spirit of philosophical inquiry, is, indeed, absolutely 
 necessary to enable the student to reap the full advantage 
 which may be derived from historical researches. If destitute 
 of the power of discrimination, he is liable to waste his time 
 and to be led into error, by listening to the inconsistencies and 
 the improbabilities of fiction ; if devoid of the faculty of, 
 deducing useful consequences, the utmost extent of accom- 
 plishment to which he may be expected to attain, will be the 
 making his memory a depository of barren incidents. To 
 
 s 2
 
 260 HISTORY. 
 
 distinguish probability from improbability, to separate truth 
 from falsehood in the undigested mass of the obscure records 
 of ancient times, or amidst the misrepresentations of party 
 zeal and factious mahgnity in more modern periods, requires 
 the exercise of consummate sagacity. Voltaire has justly 
 observed, that, in order to be qualitied to seize the proper 
 objects of history, a man must not be acquainted with books 
 atone. He must have a minute knowledge of the human 
 heart, and must be endowed with sufficient skill to enable 
 him to analyze the prejudices and the passions of men. A 
 reader of this description will give due weight to circum- 
 stances and situations. He will not, for instance, estimate 
 the character of a despot by the panegyric of a courtier ; and 
 if a prince has resisted the claims of ecclesiastical encroach- 
 ment, and restrained the power of the clergy, he will not 
 pass sentence of condemnation on him, merely because 
 his reputation happens to be vilified in the writings of a 
 monk. 
 
 In order to complete the character of an Histoiian, to this 
 soundness of the intellect should be added a strict integrity of 
 principle and a feeling heart. His standard of moral and po- 
 litical excellence must be Hxed at an elevated point. He must 
 be endued with a sense of dignity, which will lead him to dis- 
 dain to become the convenient apologist of folly or of vice. 
 He must entertain a strong dislike of every species of injustice, 
 and he ought to be armed with a boldness of spirit, which will 
 prompt him, without regard to personal consequences, to re- 
 present the actions of men in their true lineaments. At the 
 same time it is his duty to cherish a spirit of candour, and to 
 chastise and subdue all those party feelings, and sectarian pre- 
 judices, which, presenting facts through a deceitful medium, 
 distort their forms, and display them in colours not their 9Wi>. 
 He must beware of indulging the partiality of favouritism 
 of lavishing upon some honoured hero praises to which he is 
 not justly entitled, and of ascribing to lum glories to which
 
 ANCIENT HISTORY. g6l 
 
 Bd has no claim.* He must also divest himself of that at- 
 tachment to system, the consequence of a propensity to gene- 
 ralize ideas, which is too often mistaken for genuine philoso- 
 phy. He must carefully guard himself against this error, 
 which causes so many investigators of past transactions, to 
 overlook circumstances which controvert their respective theo- 
 ries, and induce them to undervalue and suppress such facts, 
 as appear to be in any point of apprehended importance in- 
 consistent with their preconceived conceptions. He must 
 eradicate from his mind those visionary notions, which have 
 led some writers to behold in the midst of that historical dark- 
 ness when nothing is distinctly visible, the perfect form of a 
 free constitution.-^- Nor will he be actuated by the views 
 which have induced others to dwell with satisfaction upoa 
 those incidents alone, in the annals of their forefathers which 
 
 * ^< Quis nescit pritnam esse historise legem, ne quid falsi dicere audeat^ 
 ne quid veri noii aiideat, oe qua suspicio gratiae sit jii scribendo, ne qua 
 simultatis." Cicero de Oratore, Lib. II. C. 13. 
 
 f " Disciple jnsqu'alors de Testimable auteur des Observations sur 
 I'Histoire de France, j'etois persuade que la Nation, libre sous la premier 
 race et sous les premiers successeurs de Pepiu, n'^toit tomb^e dans la 
 servitude que par la foibless&des derniers descendans de Charlemagne. Je 
 me representois un peuple heureux, ne dependant sous un monarque que 
 des loix qu'il se donnoit hiini^me, et que le souverain confirmait. Je 
 savois que le vertueux abb6 de.Mably 6toit incapable de vouloir troniper sea 
 lecteurs, et je ne soup(;onnois pas qn'il eilt it^ tromp6 lui-mfeme par le 
 d^sir de voir la liberty dans des temps ou les t^nebres de I'liistoire per- 
 mettent a peine de rien voir distiuctement. J'etois seulement 6tonn6 de ne 
 pouvoir compreudre comment, en moins d'un demi-siecle, un peuple libre 
 et 16gislateur 6toit tomb6 dans les fers, sans que I'liistoire, a cette ^poque, 
 nous ait conserve le souvenir d'aucune revolution violente. J'entrepris de 
 jire nos yicilles formules et nosancicns capitulaires, non poury chercber dea 
 armes contre I'opinion de I'abb^ de Mably, qui ^toit devenue la mienne, 
 mais pour trouver de nouveaux appuis & cette opinion. Quelle f6t ma 
 surprise de ne voir dans ces siecles ou il a plac6 le trdne de la libert6 qu'un 
 peuple serf comme celui de la Russie, de la Livonie, de la Pologne ; ua 
 peuple qu'on vendoit avec la terre qu'il rendoit feconde; ^le ne voir 
 d'hommes libres que la foible population des conqu^rans et un petit nombre 
 de Gaulois admis a I'hommage du Souverain," &c. See the Preface to 
 M. Levesque's Histoire de France sous les Cinq Preoiiers Valois.
 
 262 HISTORY. 
 
 afford the plausible plea of precedent for the exercise of arbi- 
 trary power.* 
 
 The foregoing enumeration of the qualities of an Historian, 
 may serve as a guide to those who enter upon historical inqui- 
 ries, without a view of submitting the result of their investiga- 
 tions to the scrutiny of the public eye. In every department 
 of knowledge, and in every circumstance of life, truth should 
 be the object of the inquirer and truth is to be found only 
 by diligent research, and by an unprejudiced exercise of the 
 reasoning powers which have been communicated to man, by 
 his all-wise Creator. The author and the reader of History, 
 ought to be directed by similar rules, in the same manner 
 as an enlightened spectator judges of the merit of a specimen 
 of art, by the principles which guide the hand of the skilful 
 artist. 
 
 In a regular course of historical studies, our attention is in 
 the first place directed to Ancient History. Though the im- 
 portance of this Branch of enquiry was, perhaps, in the age of 
 pedantry too much magnified, it has of late, by some authors 
 of no mean repute, been too much decried. The destiny of 
 mighty states and empires, is surely in itself a legitimate sub- 
 ject of attentive examination. At whatever period of the 
 world these states and empires may have existed, the tracing 
 of the causes of their rise and of their decline, cannot fail to 
 impart lessons of wholesome instruction ; and as the natural 
 constitution of man is the same in all ages, a due considera- 
 tion of the events and characters of elder times, will tend to 
 correct false estimates of things, and to establish moral and 
 political principles, upon the solid basis of experience. The 
 minute inquirer into the events of Ancient History will find, 
 that they have a much more direct analogy to the transactions 
 of modern times, than is generally imagined. To this, it may 
 be added, that classical literature is so strictly connected with 
 historical investigation, that whilst the original writers of 
 
 * This fault is, ia some degree, chargeable to Haine's History of Englajid.
 
 ANCIENT HISTORY. 265 
 
 Greece and Rome, retain the degree of importance which 
 they at present hold in the education of an English gentle- 
 man, Ancient History will claim, and will usefully occupy, a 
 reasonable portion of his time and attention. 
 
 As it is supposed, that the student of History enters upon 
 this enquiry at an early period of life, it follows as a necessary 
 consequence, that he ought to be directed to the perusal of 
 such authors as are easy of comprehension, and at once clear 
 and succinct in their style, and in the disposition and arrange- 
 ment of their matter. In pursuing his historical studies, he 
 will find it expedient to trace back the course which has been 
 delineated, of the progress of historical composition. In this 
 course general histories and compendiums, are the last in or- 
 der. But these are the first books, to which the historical 
 student will be referred ; and in proportion as his knowledge 
 increases and his judgment ripens, be will be encouraged to 
 apply himself to the examination of the older chronicles and 
 original documents, and to the discussion of disputed points in 
 History. It has been well observed by Dr. Priestley, in his 
 Lectures on History, that this method of beginning by com- 
 pendiums, " is like sketching an entire outline, before any 
 part of a picture is finished ; and learning the grand divisions 
 of the earth, before the geography of particular countries." 
 The advantages of this method are indeed sufficiently obvious. 
 It at once directs the attention of the youthful mind to those 
 grand and striking events in the annals of states and empires; 
 which have produced the most important effects in their re- 
 spective destinies. It distinctly shows the bearing upon each 
 other, of transactions which took place in successive epochs ; 
 and points out the reciprocal influence of the conduct of diffe- 
 rent countries upon their mutual welfare. For a judicious 
 compendium follows the " summa Jastigia rerum." It dwells 
 upon circumstances pf primary importance, the conspicuous 
 results of a multiplicity of minute operations. It avoids debat- 
 able points, or states in a short compass the decision which 
 is the result of laborious investigation ; and thus bringing to
 
 264 HISTORY. 
 
 View nothing but what is in a manner palpable and plain, it 
 is well calculated to arrest the attention^ and to impress the 
 memory of the youthful student. 
 
 A variety of general epitomes, embracing of course an 
 abridgment of Ancient History, have betii written in the La- 
 tin tongue. Of these the most celebrated are Tursellin's and 
 L-e Clerc's. The former was long made use of, as a text 
 book in foreign universities. The custom, now almost univer- 
 sally adopted, of giving lectures in the vernacular tongue of 
 the respective countries of Europe, lias diminished the popu- 
 larity of these Latin compends. Nevertheless, the two orks 
 above mentioned, together with Sleidan's " Intiodiictio ad 
 Historiam" or a brief account of the Babylonian, the Per- 
 sian, the Macedonian, and the Roman Monarchies, are by no 
 means undeserving of perusal. 
 
 Bossuet's Discours sur I'Histoire Universelle, which, as it 
 was brought down only to the time of Charlemagne, may be 
 considered, as in the main, an epitome of Ancient History ; at 
 its first appearance it attained a reputation, hardly warranted by 
 its merits. It is indeed a very elegant, and even an eloquent 
 performance. But the miud of its author was, unfortunately, 
 not a little tainted with bigotry. Hence he too frequently re- 
 strains the excursions of inquiry, and is at the same tmie, un- 
 charitable and credulous. To which may be added, that in 
 presenting a chronological series of events, without their de- 
 tails, he frequently becomes dry and uninteresting. 
 
 The most complete, and at the same time, the most inte- 
 resting compendium of Ancient History is that of Kollin. 
 This work is compiled with scrupulous fidelity, from the best 
 Greek and Latin historical writers. In style it is fluent and. 
 elegant ; and it evinces in its narrative and in its reflections, 
 the pious and upright views of its author. In consequence of 
 the judicious interposition of detailed anecdotes of llie princi- 
 pal characters of antiquity, it produces a kind of dramatic ef- 
 fect, which is well calculated to awaken curiosity, and to im- 
 plant good pruiciples in the juvenile mind. M. Rollin has
 
 ANCIENT HISTORY. / 9i65 
 
 not perhaps been sufFiciently attentive to discriminate between 
 the marvellous and the probable, in hi.s recital of events but 
 as a genuine and entertaining abstract of the representations, 
 made by the original historians of antiquity, his work has not 
 hitherto been excelled. 
 
 The ancient History of the Abb6 Millot, which constitutes 
 the first part of his Histoire Gcrierale, is more brief than that 
 of Mons. RoUin. It is also composed with a more acute 
 spirit of criticism. Its arrangement is judicious, and its dic- 
 tion is compact and terse. In pursuance of the principles 
 laid down in his preface, the learned author seizes those to- 
 pics of historic^ developement, which present the- greatest 
 portion of utility. He gives a bold, but faithful sketch of 
 events and characters, and enriches his pag^s with such an ad- 
 mixture of philosophical observations, as may, without disgust- 
 ing the reader, who is eager in the pursuit of incident, con- 
 duce to the formation of an early habit of reflection. 
 
 The historical works, both of Rotlin and of Millot, may be 
 read by the youthful student with improvement and pleasure. 
 
 If leisure is wanting, for so extended a course of the ele- 
 ments of Ancient History, the latter is, upon the whole, to be 
 preferred to the former. 
 
 Wiih regard to Greek history, we have in the English lan- 
 guage, two works of considerable merit the Histories of 
 Gillies and of Mitford. These works stand paralleled nearly 
 in the same manner, as those of Rollin and Millot. The for- 
 mer is the more popular, the latter the more learned. The 
 former is fluent in style, the latter abrupt. By the perusal of 
 the one, the reader is more amused than instructed by the 
 study of the other, he is more instructed than amused. 
 
 Our language is also enriched by two works, which com- 
 prehend the general history of the Roman state, from the pe- 
 riod of its foundation to that of its extinction. Hooke's Ro- 
 man history, from its earliest periods to the settlement of the 
 empire under Octavius, is comprised in four volumes, quarto, 
 Hooke was a gentleman of considerable erudition, and was in-
 
 fl66 HISTORY. 
 
 timately acquainted with the original historians, from whom 
 he derived the materials of his own narrative. In the detail 
 of facts, he is copious, accurate, and precise ; and in stating 
 the balance of evidence, he generally displays considerable criti- 
 cal acumen. His prejudices against Dr. Middleton, who had 
 offended his feelings as a Roman Catholic, by his celebrated 
 Letter from Rome, have perhaps induced him to give a cer- 
 tain colouring to facts, relative to the conduct of Cicero,* but 
 on the whole, he is candid and impartial. If his style is not 
 remarkable for its brilliancy, it is even in its tenor, clear and 
 perspicuous. In consequence of its prolixity, his work is not 
 known in proportion to its merits. But it may be safely re- 
 commended, as containing a rich repository of facts, collected 
 with industry, and arranged with judgment. 
 
 A most important series of events, supplying the principal 
 links of the chain which connects ancient and modern history, 
 is presented to the view of the student in Gibbon's history of 
 the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire. The merits 
 of this celebrated work, it is difficult to appreciate. It re- 
 quires no common degree of scholarship, to be duly aware of 
 the immense mass of materials, which, in the course of its 
 composition, its author was obliged to study and to arrange. 
 The minuteness of his references, is a circumstance deserving 
 high commendation. His patience and the sagacity of his 
 judgment in the investigation of facts, insure him immortal 
 honour. His language is elevated and dignified ; but his 
 desire to vary his phrases, and to say common things in an 
 uncommon way, frequently betrays him into affectation. The 
 unremitting pomp of his periods becomes fatiguing to the 
 ear ; and in the midst of luxuriancy of diction his reader 
 often sighs for the simplicity of Addison.f These remarks on 
 
 On this account the student will do well to check, as it were, this por- 
 tion of Mr. Hooke's narrative by the perusal of Middleton's Life of Cicero, 
 a work of great labour, and, though the accuracy of some of Dr. M.'s occa- 
 sional translations from Cicero's writings, has been questioned by the criti- 
 cal delicacy of Uie late Mr. Fox a work of high authority. 
 
 t For a brief, but masterly criticism, on Mr. Gibbon's style, the reader may
 
 ANCIENT HISTORY. ^6? 
 
 the style of Gibbon are, it is presumed, properly] introduced 
 into a sketch of a course of study designed for the guidance of 
 youth. " Dicipit exemplar vitris imitahile" and the gor- 
 geous apparatus of ambitious ornament, is too apt to dazzle 
 and mislead the juvenile scholar. At a very early period of 
 his life, Gibbon gave indications of an active and inquisitive 
 mind. He had scarcely assumed the toga virilis, when he 
 began to study polemic divinity ; and was soon bewildered in 
 the mazes of the controversy between the Roman catholic and 
 the Protestant churches. In consequence of his abjuring the 
 Protestant faith, he was sent by his father to Switzerland, 
 where he pursued his studies under the direction of a clergy- 
 man of Lausanne. Extremes often meet ; and by a transition 
 by no means unprecedented, he soon bounded over the limits 
 that separate Popery and Infidelity. Nor were his new 
 principles inactive. In his history of the ** Decline and Fall,** 
 whilst he professes the utmost plenitude of belief, he aims 
 an artful thrust at the system of Christianity, by attempting to 
 account for its progress merely from the influence of natural 
 causes, independently of its truth and divine original ; and by 
 covertly endeavouring to discredit the evidence of the miracu- 
 lous powers delegated to the apostles. By the disingenuous 
 manner in which he has insinuated his animadversions upon the 
 Christian religion, he has deservedly incurred a serious impeach- 
 ment of his character.* Had he openly attacked the evidence of 
 the Christian faith, the great body of his readers would have been 
 
 be referred to the Preftice to the late Professor Porson's Letters to Arch- 
 deacon Travis, on the severity of which the historian, in the Memoirs of his 
 Life, remarks with exemplary good Immonr-^" the sweetness of his praise 
 is tempered by a reasonable mixture of acid." 
 
 The integrity of Mr. Gibbon's principles on the subject of religion, 
 may be duly appreciated by the perusal of the following extract from his 
 private Memoirs. " Had I believed that the majority of English readers, 
 were so fondly attached even to tlie name and shadow of Christianity; had 
 I foreseen that the pious, the timid and the prudent would feel, or affect to 
 feel, with such exquisite sensibility, I might perhaps have softened the two 
 invidious chapters, which would create many enemies and cmcUiate few 
 friends,"
 
 268 HISTORY. 
 
 aware of the necessity of weighing his arguments, and deciding 
 on their intrinsic worth. But in his celebrated xvlh and xvith 
 chapters of the Decline and Fall, he has so skilfully inter- 
 mixed correct statements of facta with conclusions, or rather 
 hints of conclusions, which are generally esteemed unwarrant- 
 able and mischievous, that it will be proper for every one 
 who peruses his work, to read some of the answers that 
 have been written to that portion of it, which is most strongly 
 tinctured with Infidelity. Of these answers the ablest is that 
 of Bishop Watson. Some very judicious remarks on this sub- 
 ject will also be found in the first part of the general conclu- 
 sion of Priestley's " History of the Corruptions of Christianity." 
 
 After allowing for every deduction, however, Mr. Gibbon's 
 History must be acknowledged to be one of the most correct 
 and elaborate works, which grace the annals of English litera- 
 ture. It commences with a view of the policy which swayed 
 the Roman cabinet in the time of Augustus. Rapidly passing 
 onto theage of the Antonines A. D. 180, it then begins to 
 assume the form of a history in detail, which is brought down 
 to the period of the total extinction of the Roman Empire in 
 the West ; and is afterwards continued to the taking of Con- 
 stantinople by the Turks, A. D. 1453, and concludes at the 
 establishment of the Papal power in. the city of Rome and 
 the adjacent territory. 
 
 Whilst the generality of readers are obliged to content them- 
 selves with Epitomes of Ancient History, or with works 
 which have been compiled from the most authentic writers of 
 antiquity, tlie student who is so fortunately circumstanced as 
 to enjoy a greater portion of leisure, will not limit himself to 
 these means of information ; but will apply himself to the ori- 
 ginal depositories of facts. In order to do this with the 
 greatest prospect of advantage, he will find it expedient to 
 pursue in his reading the regular order of time ; for which 
 purpose he may take as his guide, the following sketch of a 
 course of Ancient History as abridged from Wheare's X<ec- 
 tures on History published by Bohun.
 
 ANCIENT HISTORY, 269 
 
 In this sketch of a course of History, it is taken for granted 
 that, according to ancient and laudable custom, the pupil is at 
 an early age initiated in a knowledge of the historical books 
 of the Old Testament. Independently of their value in a re- 
 ligitHis point of view, the Jewish Scriptures deservedly claim 
 the attention of the enquirer into the early state of the world. 
 It has been well observed by a very competent judge, that 
 ** the truth of the history contained in the Hebrew Scriptures 
 has never been invalidated by any monument of antiquity, that 
 can stand the test of sober investigation." #-' 
 
 He will then commence with Herodotus, the earliest his- 
 torian extant next to the authors of the historical books of the 
 Old Testament, and whose works include the history of the 
 Lydiaiis, lonians, Lycians, Egyptians, Persians, Greeks and 
 Macedonians, from the year 7 1 3, to the year 479 before the birth 
 of Christ. By way of illustration of various circumstances re- 
 lated by Herodotus, it will be advisable for him to peruse the 
 first, second, third and seventh books of Justin, and the seventh 
 book of Xenophon's Cyropoedia. 
 
 In reading Herodotus, it is sometimes difficult to distinguish 
 truth, from fable. But fable is rejected from the valuable 
 work of the philosophic Thucydides, whose introductory sum- 
 mary of the History of Greece, takes up the thread of nar- 
 ration where it was dropped by Herodotus ; and who continues 
 the Grecian annals to the twenty-first year of the Peloponne- 
 sian war. Additional light will be thrown upon this period, 
 by the perusal of the eleventh and twelfth books of Diodorus 
 Siculus the fourth and fifth books of Justin, and the first 
 book of Orosius. 
 
 The first and second books of Xenophon's History of ^ 
 Greece, complete the account of the Peloponnesian war, 
 which was left imperfect by Thucydides. After these the 
 student will read with no less pleasure than profit Xenophon's 
 interesting story of the Expedition of Cyrus, and the retreat 
 of the ten thousand. He will then resume the same elegant 
 author's History of Greece, which brings down the annals of
 
 270 HISTORY. 
 
 the Greeks and Persians to the battle of Mantinea, B. C. 3G3. 
 The fourth and fiftli books of Justin treat of the same events; 
 as also the fourteenth and part of the fifteenth books of Diodorus 
 Siculus, the continuation of whose work contains the history of 
 Greece and Persia down to tlie commencement of the reign of 
 Alexander the Great. 
 
 The history of Alexander has been written by Arrian, 
 Quintus Curtius and Plutarch. After these authors may be 
 read the eighteenth, nineteenth and twentieth books of Diodorus 
 Siculus, which, together with the thirteenth, fourteenth and fif- 
 teenth books of Justin, contain the History of Greece from 
 the year 323 before Christ to the year 30 1 . 
 
 At this period, the course of historical narration may be 
 traced from the sixteenth to the thirtieth books of Justin, and 
 all that follow, till the two last, which complete the history of 
 Greece till it mingles with that of Rome. 
 
 The early annals of Rome, ar illustrated by Dionysius of 
 Halicarnassus, the fragment of whose history which has been 
 saved from the wreck of time, extends to the dissolution of 
 the Decemvirate in the year 341 before Christ. 
 
 To this period also extend the three first books of Livy, 
 whose tenth book brings the history of Rome to the year 
 292 before the Christian aera. 
 
 The work of Livy has unfortunately come to the hands of 
 the modems in a very mutilated and imperfect state. A 
 chasm occurs between the tenth and twentieth books which 
 may, however be, in some measure, filled up by the perusal of 
 the first and second books of Polybius the SEventeentli, eigh- 
 teenth, twenty-second and twenty-third books of Justin, and 
 fourteen chapters of the fourth book of Orosius the second 
 tome of the annals of Zonaras, and Appian's Punic and 
 Illyrian Wars. After Appian, may be read the remainder of 
 Livy, from the twenty-first book to the end, which brings 
 the Roman history to the year before Christ I66, and the 
 Epitome of Floras, which carries it down nearly to the ter- 
 mination of the reign of Augustus.
 
 ANCIENT HISTORY. 271 
 
 The war of Jugurtha, and the conspiracy of Catiline, which 
 happened respectively, 100, and 62, years before Christ, 
 have been narrated with energetic conciseness by Sallust. 
 
 Many of the varied transactions, in which Julius Csesar was 
 engaged, are best illustrated by his celebrated commentaries, 
 and the supplement to that work, compiled by Hirtius and 
 others. The secret history of this important period will 
 be most clearly understood, from the perusal of Cicero's 
 Epistles ; and great light will be thrown upon the whole of 
 this extensive course of ancient history, by occasional references 
 to the lives of illustrious Greeks and Romans, as recorded 
 by Plutarch and Cornelius Nepos. The fragments of the 
 history of Dio Cassius, which have survived the wreck of 
 time, contain a detail, but not a very interesting one, of the 
 events that took place between the period when Lucullus 
 flourished, and the death of the Emperor Claudius. In com- 
 bination with Dio Cassius, may be read with advantage the 
 elegant Compendium of Velleius Paterculus. 
 
 The lives of the twelve Caesars, written by Suetonius, will 
 prepare the way for the study of the works of Tacitus, who 
 may justly be denominated the chief of philosophical histo-^ 
 rians. On the times of servility, which succeeded the period 
 in which he lived, a dim light is shed by the works of Aure- 
 lius Victor, Herodian, the six compilers, who are commonly 
 known by the name of the Scriptores Romani, Eutropius, 
 Zosimus, Zonarus, Jomandes, Ammianus Marcellinus, Pro- 
 copius, Aguthias, Nicetas Acomiatus, Nicephorus Gregorus, 
 and Joannes Cantacuzenus, which may be read in the order 
 in which they are here detailed. 
 
 Procopius, Zonarus, &c. are distinguished by the appella- 
 tion of the Byzantine historians ; and their works relate the his- 
 tory of the Greek, or Eastern Empire, to the period of its de- 
 struction by the Turks. A collection of these writers, was, 
 at various intervals of time, published in thirty-six magnificent 
 volumes in folio, from the Louvre press. They were like- 
 wise reprinted at Venice, in the year 1729.
 
 CHAP. XIX. 
 
 MODERN HISTORY. 
 
 Modern History Voltaire's Essai sar les Moenrs, &c. Hist. Modeme par 
 Millet Russell's Modem Earope Gibbon Gaillard's Histoire de Charle- 
 magne Berington's Lives of Abeillard, &c. Abb^ Sad^'s M^moires de 
 Petrarque Shepherd's Life of Poggio L' Enfant Roscoc's Lorenzo 
 and Leo X. RoTiertson's Charles V. and History of America Watson's 
 Pliilip II. and IIL Harte's Life of Gustavos Adolplins Schiller's His- 
 tory of the thirty years' war Voltaire's Louis XIV. Sketch of Eng- 
 lish History ; Rapin Hume Macaulay Henry Andrews Robert- 
 sonWarrington Original writers General History of England 
 Bishop Burnet's History of the Reformation Neal's History of the Pu- 
 ritans M'Crie's Life of Knox. 
 
 A GOOD general epitome of Modem History, adapted to 
 the use of young students, was a work long wanting to the 
 republic of letters. The Modern Universal History is too vo- 
 luminous, and its various portions are executed with very un- 
 equal degrees of merit. Voltaire's Essai sur les Maurs et 
 VEsprit (les Nations, is, as indeed its title imports, rather a 
 commentary upon facts, the knowledge of which is pre-sup- 
 posed, than a detail of the facts themselves. The Histoire Mo- 
 deme of the Abbe Millot is judicious as far as it goes ; but 
 though it is sufficiently accurate and impartial; it is too much
 
 MODERN HISTORY. 278 
 
 compressed for the extent and importance of the topics %vhich 
 it embraces. A more valuable compendium will be found in 
 Russell's History of Modern Europe. This publication has, 
 indeed, a high claim to notice. It is divided into two parts, 
 the first embracing the period frofn the rise of modern king- 
 doms, to the peace of Westphalia in 1648 ; and the second 
 comprehending the events which influenced the fate of Europe, 
 from the peace of Westphalia to the peace of Paris in 1763, 
 Tliis is the grand outline of Mr. Russell's work. The subdi- 
 vision is ingeniously effected by a series of letters, in which, 
 with great labour and considerable sagacity, the principal 
 transactions of the leading European States are concatenated 
 with as rigid an adherence to chronological order, as was con- 
 sistent with the mixed and fluctuating interests of these States. 
 A third part, bringing the history down from the peace of 
 Paris to the treaty of Amiens, in 1802, has been supplied by 
 Dr. Coote, who has strictly adhered to the plan, and in a 
 great degree imbibed the liberal spirit of his accomplished 
 original. 
 
 As a repository of facts, methodically arranged, and dili- 
 gently authenticated, Mr. Russell's history is a work of consU 
 derabie utility ; but to recommend it merely as the work of a 
 faithful, or even of an elegant compiler, would be to deprive 
 its author of the praise to which he is eminently entitled, for 
 the admirable manner in which he has executed the higher 
 offices of the historian. The settlement and changes, as well 
 as the connexion and dependance of the different nations of 
 Europe, are traced and illustrated by him, in a way which 
 must make them familiar to almost the humblest capacity, 
 and this very interesting part of the work has been mainly ex- 
 ecuted, not only by the limitation of the history to admitted 
 facts ; but from the additional light thrown back upon these 
 facts, by the clear exposition which Mr. Russell has given of 
 the consequences which resulted from them. By an adherence 
 to this connexion, the true light and harmony of history are 
 preserved. But such advantages, however striking; are not 
 
 VOL, I. r
 
 274 HISTORY. 
 
 the only ones which serve to recommend this admired work. 
 It occurred to tlie penetrating mind of Mr. Russell, that many 
 events derived an air of importance merely from the period at 
 which they occurred, or the personages, who happened to be 
 engaged in them. Such events he has wisely passed over, in 
 order to make room for those of a more permanent interest ; 
 and thus, without any real sacrifice, the labours of the student 
 have been materially abridged, and what is of still more im- 
 portance, his progress towards a thorough knowledge of his- 
 tory has been freed from those frequent interruptions, which 
 usually embarrass the efforts of an ordinary mind. 
 
 This work is also enriched and illustrated by the substance of 
 those various treaties, by which the destinies of the different nations 
 of Europe have been so powerfully influenced. The progress of 
 society, from the rise of modern kingdoms down to the present 
 time, exhibiting the manners of the people in their rudest 
 state and in their highest polish, is given at stated intervals, and 
 with much ability and research. The advances made in taste 
 and science, and the influence of religion in the usurpations of 
 the ecclesiastical, at the expense of the civil power, are all 
 developed in the period to which they belong, and as connect* 
 ed with the progress of war, politics, and legislation, exhibit 
 in clear and prominent characters the intellectual and moral 
 improvement, or rather the moral and intellectual changes of 
 man. 
 
 The style of this work is at once familiar and elegant, and 
 the reflections with which it abounds, are invariably nmde 
 subservient to the sacred principle of public and private jus- 
 tice. The moral pre-eminence, and the political superiority 
 of England, are strictly connected with the pure administration 
 of her laws, and the correct exertion of her power ; and it b 
 no small recommendation of this History of Modem Europe, 
 that it is evidently the chief object of its autlior, to inspire his 
 youthful reader with a constitutional dependance upon the 
 laws and institutions of his country, and upon them alone. 
 
 Modem History opens to the philosopher and the politician
 
 MODERN HISTORY. 975 
 
 a spacious field of inquiry. It is a most copious subject of 
 study, the full and minute investigation of which, would oc- 
 cupy the whole of that time, which those who are the most 
 fortunately circumstanced, are enabled to dedicate to learned 
 leisure. It is, therefore, obviously impossible, in the narrow 
 limits necessarily assigned to this essay, to enumerate even the 
 principal works on this subject, which demand the attention 
 of the historical student. It is hoped, however, that the fol- 
 lowing series of modern historical reading will be found amply 
 to reward the diligence of those who may be disposed to 
 enter upon the prosecution of it. , 
 
 It being presumed that the great outlines of the events of 
 modem history are distinctly impressed upon the mind by the 
 diligent perusal of Russell's, or of some other compendium, it 
 may be observed that the origin of the barbarous tribes, whose 
 chiefs, at different periods making themselves masters of the 
 various subdivisions of the Roman Empire, laid the founda- 
 tions of the modern kingdoms of Europe, is minutely traced 
 by Gibbon in the latter volumes of his Decline and Fall, and 
 that so extensive is the range of this work, that it furnishes 
 almost a complete history of Europe and Asia, to the com- 
 mencement of the sixteenth century. 
 
 Much valuable information, relative to one of the most im- 
 portant of the early periods of modern history, is to be derived 
 from the elegant Histoire de Charlemagne^ published by 
 Mons. Gaillard, in the year 1782, in four volumes, 12mo. 
 
 The general state of Europe in the eleventh century, is de- 
 scribed in an animated manner by Berington, in the second edi- 
 tion of his History of the Lives of Abeillard and Heloisa. This 
 book is, indeed, highly creditable to its author. It is com- 
 posed from authentic materials, and conveys a very accurate 
 idea of the characters of which it treats. Though Mr. Bering- 
 ton may be deemed too partial in ascribing the ambitious 
 aims of Pope Gregory, to his ardent desire to effect a reform- 
 ation in the manners of the age in which he lived, the remarks 
 
 T 2
 
 276 HrSTORY. 
 
 which he makes in other parts of his volume on the futility of 
 the temporal claims of the pontifical see, evince, that, with 
 whatever partiality he may regard the proceedings of that pon- 
 tiff, it is a partiality to the man rather than to 1ms digni^. 
 His passing insinuations against the Protestants may be for- 
 given as a sacrifice necessary to deprecate the wrath likely to 
 be excited in the bigoltedly orthodox among the Roman 
 Catholics, by the general strain of liberality which pervades 
 this work. 
 
 The Abbe Sadc's Memoir e& sur la Vie da Francois Pe- 
 trargue, in three vols. 4to., is a work of extraordinary re- 
 search ; and the very circumstance which constitutes its chief 
 fault as a biographical composition, renders it the more in- 
 teresting and useful to the student of general history. Its au- 
 thor frequently, and indeed systematically, indulges himself iu 
 details of circumstances, with which his hero has little or no 
 connexion ; and has thus contrived to interweave into the me- 
 moirs of an anchoret, a minute and elaborate account of the 
 events which took place in Italy, in France, and other parts 
 of Europe, during the greater part of the fourteenth century. 
 The style of the Abbe Sade, is too frequently flippant and 
 affected, and the loves of Petrarch are almost miiformly dull 
 and tiresome. But the rich fund of general information which 
 is contained in these volumes, will make ample amends for 
 the occasional tediousness which is apt to weary the patience 
 of their reader. 
 
 A succhict narration of general history is also to be found 
 in Shepherd's Life of Poggio Bracciolini, which work, in re- 
 lating the origin of that famous ecclesiastical feud, the schism 
 of the west, almost touches the period of Petrarch, and traces 
 the course of the principal occurrences which took place in 
 Italy and Europe in general, to somewhat beyond the middle 
 of the fifteenth century. 
 
 An impartial and elaborate accoimt of live progress, and 
 termination of the above-mentioned schism, and of the dis-
 
 MODERN HISTORY. 277 
 
 putes which took place between Pope Eugenius IV. and the 
 representatives of the church, and which for some years dis- 
 turbed the peace of Christendom, may be found in L'Enfaiit's 
 Histories of the Councils of Constance and of Basil. 
 
 During the decline, and after the fall of the Roman em- 
 pire, Europe was for a considerable period involved in the 
 gloom of ignorance and superstition. This gloom first began 
 to be dispelled in the time of Petrarch, by the study of the 
 ancient classic writers. In proportion as an acquaintance with 
 the works of these writers was disseminated, the human intel- 
 kct was expanded. Considerable advances were made in 
 knowledge at the commencement of the fifteenth century, be- 
 fore the termination of which, literature and the arts displayed 
 a blaze of glory, under the auspices of a Tuscan merchant, 
 Lorenzo de Medici, who became the founder of a family, the 
 rami^c^ions of which have, in process of time, been extendr 
 ed to the principal sovereignties of Europe. 
 
 The life of this illustrious patron of literature, by Mr, 
 Roscoe, was published in two volumes, 4to. in 1795. Few 
 works of modern times have acquired greater reputation than 
 this elegant piece of biography. Introducing his subjects by 
 a slight sketch of the life and character of Cosmo de Medici, 
 who was born A. D. 1389, Mr. Roscoe proceeds to narrate 
 the progress of Lorenzo's education, and traces his history 
 through the various vicissitudes of fortune, to the period of 
 his death, which toak place A. D. 1492. As Lorenzo's po- 
 litical connexions were very extensive, his history embraces 
 the principal occurrences which happened in the more civilized 
 portions of Europe during his life. 3ut Mi*. Roscoe is parti'^ 
 cularly happy in the delineation of his hero, in the character 
 of an encourager of literature and the arts. The intimate 
 friendship which subsisted between Lorenzo and the most 
 eminent scholars of his time, gives occasion to the introduc- 
 tion of masterly criticisms on the labours of a variety of scho>#( 
 lars and artists of illustrious name. The purity of Mr. Ros- 
 COje's tjiste is evinced by the elegant sinaplicity of his style ;
 
 f 
 
 27s HISTORY. 
 
 and his occasional translations of the poetical pieces Nvith 
 which his work is interspersed, may be quoted as specimens 
 of highly finished versification. 
 
 The succeeding penod of general History is ably illustrated 
 by the same author in his Life of Leo X. When the subject 
 of a biographical memoir has acted a conspicuous part in 
 public life, his private history is so intermixed with the general 
 course of historical events, that a reference to the one is ab- 
 solutely necessary to the developement and explanation of the 
 other. Hence Mr. Roscoe was not only authorized, but in a 
 manner compelled, in the work in question, to enter at large 
 into the state of Italy and of Europe, which had so much 
 influence upon the fortune of Leo, and which was also in no 
 small degree modified by the actions of that pontiff. Even 
 when the power of the papal see had begun to decline, the 
 personal character of an individual pope had considerable 
 weight in political transactions ; and it is well known that 
 Leo X. in particular constantly interposed, and frequently with 
 decisive effect, in the contests which took place during his 
 pontificate, between the European powers. The causes and 
 the progress of these contests therefoie it was the duty of his 
 biographer to investigate; and this task Mr. Roscoe has 
 executed with a degree of diligence and impartiality which 
 entitles him to high encomium. In the life of Leo, as in the 
 life of his father Lorenzo, Mr. Roscoe has given a copious his- 
 tory of the progress of literature and the fine arts. 
 
 So extensive were the territories which feil by inheritance 
 to Charles V. of Spain, and to the dominion of which he was 
 called, by his election to the dignity of Emperor of Germany, 
 that his history occupies a vast space, in the general history of 
 Europe. In this subject the late Dr. Robertson found ample 
 scope for the display of his talents. His History of the Life 
 of the Emperor Charles V. is extended through four volumes ; 
 and comprehends a vast . variety of interesting transactions. 
 The first volume contains a view of the progress of society in 
 Europe, from the subversion of the Roman Empire, to the
 
 MODERN HISTORY. 279 
 
 beginning of the sixteenth century, embracing the several 
 heads of Government, Laws, and Manners Military esta- 
 blishments, and the political constitution of the principal states 
 in Europe, at the commencement of the sixteenth century. 
 By many critics this dissertation is regarded as the most valu- 
 able certainly it is the most elaborate part of Dr. Robertson's 
 work. It is illustrated and enriched by various notes, and by 
 numerous references to authentic documents. The history of 
 Charles V. comprehends the eventful period, which occur- 
 red between the years 1500 and 1559; and his biographer is 
 naturally led to relate the revolution by which the free con- 
 stitution of Spain was overturned the rivalship between 
 Charles and Francis I. king of France, on the subject of the 
 imperial crown the long and bloody wars which took place 
 between those monarchs, and which for a lengthened period 
 desolated the finest provinces of Italy and, lastly, the rise and 
 progress of the Reformation in Germany. A single glance at 
 these topics, will convince the historical student of the great 
 importance of this work, which is highly commendable as 
 evincing the candour of its author, his patience in research, 
 the luminousness of his arrangement, and the neatness and 
 perspicuity of his style. 
 
 Ih-. Robertson has also conferred a signal obligation on 
 those, who are interested in tracing the changes which take 
 place in human society and manners, by the account of the 
 grand revolution, which took place in the system of European 
 commerce, in consequence of the discoveries of Columbus, 
 de Gama, and other navigators, which is contained in his His- 
 tory of America. * 
 
 When Dr. Robertson dropped the thread of history, it was 
 taken up by Dr. Watson, Though it cannot be said that the 
 latter uthor follows his learned predecessor " passibus (BquiSf'\ 
 yet he has performed his task with no common ability; and- 
 his history of the Reign of Philip II. King of Spain, occupies, 
 a distinguished rank in the extensive collections of English 
 literature. It has been observed that those portions of time
 
 3S# HISTORY. 
 
 which have been adorned by virtues, present not any interestii^ 
 materials for the htbours of the historian. l( the converse of 
 this proposition be true if history most strongly arrests the 
 attention when it is the register of enormous crimes, Dr. 
 Watson has been fortunate in the period which he has chosen 
 for the subject of historic iUustration. It is truly " atrox 
 prccliis, opimum casibusJ" A large portion of the globe de- 
 pended for its happiness or misery upon the character and 
 conduct of Philip II. His connexion with this country, in 
 consequence of his marriage with Mary, will interest the 
 [English reader in his destiny. His unrelenting bigotry against 
 the Protestants, breaking out into acts of cruelty and oippres-> 
 sion, intermixes with his personal history that of the reformed 
 religion. The struggles of the inhabitants of the Netherlands 
 and the United Provinces, to throw off his detested yoke, 
 present a most awful and important crisis, and the reader is 
 gratified by the narrative of the rise of the Dutch republic, 
 whose constitution was cemented by the blood of its founders. 
 
 The History of Philip H. brings- the course of events dowq 
 to the year 1598. 
 
 The Life of Philip IH. begun by Dr. Watson, and after 
 his death finished by bis executor. Dr. Thompson, presents 
 us with an account of the fruitless efforts of the Spanish 
 monarch, to subdue the Northern Netherlands, now known 
 by the name of the United Provinces, and the establishment 
 of the independence of the Batavian republic. The ex- 
 pulsion of the Moors from Spain, and the account of their 
 manners and custom^, form an interesting subject of historic 
 narrative. It may be observed in general, that the political 
 alliances and the wars of Philip II. and Philip HI. involve 
 the interests of so many states, that their history displays the 
 general topics of the history of Europe, during ihe period of 
 the lives of those mouarchs, the latter of whom died in the 
 year 16-21. 
 
 Soon aftenthis period, the royal authority was established 
 m Fraoce,. on the ruios of the aristocracy, and of the party of
 
 MODERN HISTORY. 281 
 
 the Huguenots^ by the transcendent abilities of Cardinal Riche- 
 lieu. Jn consequence of this consolidation of domestic power, 
 the French monarchy attained to a very considerable degree of 
 influence in the transactions of Europe, and of course its 
 history begins to occupy a large portion of the attention of the 
 student. This history is narrated with his usual brilliancy and 
 spirit, by Voltaire in the 1 7^th and subsequent chapter of his 
 '' ssai snr les Moeurs et 1' Esprit des Nations" which may be 
 read with considerable profit, as well as with much amusement. 
 
 The origin and progress of the religious troubles which at 
 this epoch laid waste the provinces of Germany, are related 
 with more fidelity than elegance by Harte in his Life of 
 Gustavus Adolphus, A more popular narrative of these interes- 
 ting events is to be found in Schiller's history of the thirty 
 years' war. 
 
 Voltaire's Life of Louis XIV. will conduct the reader to 
 the period when, in consequence of the alliances formed by 
 the English nation, with various continental powers, the history 
 of the wt>rld is strictly connected with that of our native 
 land.* 
 
 It is indeed advisable' that during the whole course ofre^ding 
 as referring to Modern History, a steady eye should be directed 
 to the History of England. To this, as to a central point, 
 the historical enquiries of an English gentleman should habU 
 tually tend. " Nature" as Mr. Gibbon justly observes " has 
 implanted in our breasts a lively impulse to extend the narrow 
 span of our existence, by the knowledge of the events that 
 have happened on the soil which we inhabit, of the characters 
 
 In the foregoing detailed course of Modern History, such works have 
 been industriously selected, as may serve to exhibit besides the ordinary 
 transactions of states and chieftains, the progress of the human mind in 
 literature and the arts. Tliese topics are too often neglected by general 
 historians. TLey however claim tlie attention of him who would wish to 
 become well acquainted with our common fortune and the reader of 
 well discipline^ feelings will undoubtedly be pleased occasionally to retire 
 from the spectacle of fields of carnage, to the contemplation of the calm 
 ^nd tranquil pursuits of the poet or the philosopher.
 
 99t HISTORY. 
 
 and actions of those men, from whom our descent as individual! 
 or as a people is probably derived.* The same laudable emu- 
 lation will prompt us to review and to enrich our common trea- 
 sure of national glory : and those who are best entitled to the 
 esteem of posterity are the most inclined to celebrate the 
 merits of their ancestors." It would be presumptuous to 
 endeavour to give any additional weight to the suffrage of a 
 writer so eminently well quaKfied to appreciate the rela- 
 tive value of the different departments of historical study. The 
 following sketch of a course of English History, is therefore 
 introduced without any farther preliminary remarks. 
 
 It is somewhat singular that the most elaborate, and 
 perhaps the most faithful general History of England should 
 have been composed by a foreigner, Rapin de Thoyras, a 
 French refugee, who was obliged to quit his native country, in 
 consequence of the revocation of the edict of Nantz. His 
 voluminous work is of great authority on account of his per- 
 
 If it be true, as has been frequently remarked, that nature is uniform 
 in beroperations, tlie foregoing observation of Mr. Gibbon is more oratorical 
 than strictly correct. According to the testimony of the Missionary Pro- 
 yart, there has existed at least one nation, Uie inhabitants of which enter' 
 tained no will to " extend the narrow span of their exiatence" by a re- 
 ference to tiie transactions. Speaking of the natives of Loango, the good 
 fkther says, " They arc endowed Avith a bappy memory-.' The missionaries 
 saw some, who, within a month, have repeatedGod's commandments, which 
 tliey had heard only once recited in a public place. Tliey make no use, 
 however, of this faculty, for transmitting to future ages what passes 
 among them that is memorable, assuming as a principle, that they should 
 coii6ne themselves to what is strictly necessary, as well for knowledge as 
 for the wants of life ; they all live, with regard to historyj in that indif- 
 ference which characterizes the inhabitants of our country places, who 
 know no more of what passed in France under Lewis the Great, than 
 under Julius Casar. If you ask them why tJicy do not preserve the remem- 
 brance of what has been done by Uieir fathers, they answer, that it sig- 
 nifies little to know how Uie dead have lived ; the main point is, that the 
 living sboald be honest people. According to tlie same principle, they 
 keep DO accouat of their age : it wouM be, say they, loading one s memory 
 with an useless reckoning, since it does not hinder us from dying, and gives 
 OS no insig^ into the term of one's lift." Proywrt's UUt. ^ Loarg^ 
 Chap, viii.
 
 Ji MODERN HISTORY. 335 
 
 petual references to original documents, and the ample quo- 
 tations which he frequently makes from important state-papers, 
 confer upon it additional value. He has so copiously detailed 
 the matters which were agitated in the turbulent, but prudent 
 parliaments of Charles I. as to give a clear view of the rise of 
 those parties which to this day divide the people of England. 
 On the dark and horrible transactions of the reign of Charles 
 II. he perhaps throws as much light as it is now possible to 
 obtain. In reference to this important period, he has stated 
 historical difficulties with candour, and in discussing the merits 
 and demerits of parties, he has weighed evidence with laudable 
 scrupulosity. It may however be discerned that the bias 
 of his affections inclines to the Whigs. But such is the au- 
 thenticity of his materials, and so impartial are the general 
 conduct and results of his investigations, that his history to this - 
 day deservedly maintains a considerable degree of popularity. 
 
 The continuation of Rapin's history, which bears the name 
 of Tindal, his translator, but which it is now understood was 
 in reality written by Dr. Birch, is copious to prolixity ; but it 
 gives a clear view of the intrigues of party, and of the par- 
 liamentary manoeuvres which have in modern times taken place, 
 of the violent and mortal contests of the barons of old. 
 
 Hume's History of England affords a singular instance of a 
 literary production at first unjustly depreciated, and afterwards 
 gradually winning its way to a station of high eminence m 
 general estimation. On the appearance of that portion of his 
 work which he first submitted to the public inspection, viz. the 
 history of the House of Stuart, Mr. Hume was assailed, as 
 he himself informs us " by an universal cry of reproach and 
 disapprobation." 
 
 The leaders of the public opinion, were at that time 
 strenuous supporters of the Whig principles, which justified the 
 claim f King William HI. and consequently of the Hanover 
 family, to the throne of these realms, and they received witb. 
 indignation references to ancient authorities and coloured state-
 
 i284 . . filSTORY. 
 
 ments of facts, which tended to controvert many of their 
 favourite maxims. At the same time Mr. Hume's sceptical 
 notions on the subject of rehgion, were well known to the 
 literary public ; and his reputation was attacked by an union of 
 orthodox zeal and political enthusiasm. His constitutional 
 apathy, however, prevented him from being discouraged; and 
 he proceeded by degrees to enlarge his plan, till his History 
 was completed in its present form, embracing the period from 
 the Invasion of Julius Caesar, to the Revolution in lOSS. In 
 process of time, this history has been generally acknowledged 
 to be a standard work ; and its merits are certainly very con- 
 siderable. In his selection of topics, its author is judicious 
 in his investigation of facts, he is in the main accurate and 
 precise in his delineations of character, he evinces a deep 
 insight into human nature. Calm and dispassionate con- 
 sideration and impartial enquiry have, it has been observed, 
 tended to confirm rather than to controvert those views of 
 tlie progress of the British constitution, which for ^ time 
 rendered him so unpopular as an historian. It is now generally 
 agreed that the liberties of Englishmen are not to be staked 
 4jpon precedent we may therefore read with patience even 
 an industriously ample record of the despotic maxims which 
 regulated the conduct of certain of our ancient monarchs; 
 and while improvements in our civil polity can be peaceably 
 effected by the regular fonns prescribed by the constitution, 
 we may listen without vexation to the minutest detail of the 
 tyranny of the Tudors. The chief defect of Mr. Hume is 
 however a want of that feeling of sympathy with the general 
 body of the community, which fosters in the mind of man the 
 generous principles of freedom. He views with little or no 
 indignation, the violence and cruelty of despotism ; and records 
 with frigid apathy the glorious struggles of the assertors of 
 liberty. He can bestow a sigh upon the sufferings of men 
 exalted in rank and endued with power ; but for plebeian sor-i 
 rows he has no pity.
 
 MODERN HISTORY. 285 
 
 The continuations of Hume's history by SmoUet and Bel- 
 >ham, are rather the essence of gazettes and party pamphlets 
 than specimens of genuine historical composition. 
 
 If any tory poison lurk in that portion of Hume's History, 
 which treats of the dynasty of the house of Stuart, the antidote 
 is to be found, in " The History of England, from the accession 
 of James I. to the elevation of the House of Hanover, by 
 Catherine Macaulay." This work exhibits the view in which 
 the most interesting period of English history is contemplated 
 by the stern spirit of a female republican. Mrs. Macaulay 
 had studied with fixed attention the voluminous writings in 
 which the principles of civil and religious polity were freely 
 discussed by the industrious scholars, who dignified the annals 
 of English literature during the reign of James, and of the 
 first and second Charles. From these writers, she has imbibed 
 those maxims, which, in the course of her history, she has 
 steadily maintained as the standard of political excellence 
 An inspection of her references, and an examination of the 
 curious and interesting notes, which she has appended to her 
 narrative, will afford ample proof, that in the investigation of 
 facts, she has had recourse to the most genuine sources of in- 
 formation. ^ 
 
 When the student has, by the perusal of the works of 
 Rapin and Hume, obtained a clear notion of the general 
 course of events in the English History, he may read with ad- 
 vantage Henry's History, originally published in six volumes, 
 quarto. In this work, the several topics of historical informa- 
 tion, at certain defined periods, are discussed in separate chap- 
 ters. By this novel plan, the course of historical narrative is 
 necessarily interrupted ; but in the work in question, this fault 
 is compensated by the exhibition of a mass of minute and par- 
 ticular information, collected with great research, and which 
 throws a much clearer light upon the literature, arts, and man- 
 ners of the several periods bf our history, than is to be ob- 
 tained from the perusal of works, composed with the usual 
 arrangement.
 
 286 HISTORY. 
 
 The History of Great Britain, connected witK the Chrono- 
 logy of Europe, by James Petit Andrews, F.A.S., is also a 
 publication singular in its design, but of no inconsiderable uti- 
 lity. Of the plan of this work, the following account is given 
 in the preface. " The history of England is meant to be con- 
 cisely told, yet not so briefly as to have any material circum- 
 stances omitted. The corresponding page of general chrono- 
 logy, is extended on the same system to comprehend the an- 
 nals of every European state, and only wanders into the other 
 quarters of the globe, when tempted by circumstances closely 
 connected with the interests of Europe. The notes are in- 
 tended to contain events of an inferior class which although 
 not foreign to the text, are yet not necessary to be intruded on 
 diose, who read only for solid information. To each book 
 are added two Appendixes. The one tells such incidents as 
 could not properly be thrown into the notes ; relates the life 
 of every distinguished British writer ; includes a specimen of 
 his works, if poetical ; and thus becomes a chronicle of British 
 literature. The other presents an analysis of the times and 
 their manners, under the respective heads of Religion, Go- 
 vernment," &c. 
 
 In the two volumes, which he lived to publish, Mr. An- 
 drews executed with diligence and success what he thus 
 undertook to perform ; and it is to be lamented that his labours 
 were diverted to other objects, and at length prematurely 
 closed by his death, when he had arrived at the period of the 
 accession of Edward VI. 
 
 The early history of Scotland, like that of most other na- 
 tions, is obscured by fables, which are detailed with every 
 grace of style, in the History of Buchanan. But whoever 
 wishes to become acquainted with the more important periods 
 of the Scottish Annals, will do well to peruse with attention, 
 Robertson's History of Scotland, during the reigns of Queen 
 Mary, and King James VI. till his accession to the crown of 
 Ei^land ; smd Laing's History of Scotland, from the Union of 
 the Crowns, on the accession of James VI, to the throne o*"
 
 MODERN HISTORY. 28? 
 
 England, to the Union of the Kingdoms, under the reign of 
 Queen Anne. These are standard works, and are executed 
 in so able a manner, as at once to instruct the inquisitive mind, 
 and to gratify refined taste. 
 
 No work has hitherto superseded Leland's fjistory of Ire- 
 land, which traces in a masterly manner, the transaction^ 
 which took place in that country, from the Invasion of Henry 
 II, to die treaty of Limerick, in this reign of William 11. 
 
 In the History of Wales, by the Rev. Wm. Warrington, the 
 reader will find collected all the facts, which can throw light 
 upon the government, manners, and final subjugation of a 
 people, still strongly marked by distinctive characteristics and 
 peculiar customs. 
 
 It seems to be the consequence of the operation of a great 
 law of our nature, that the stream of History should become 
 more mixed and polluted^ in proportion as it Rows farther 
 from its source. Secondary historians are apt to view facts 
 through peculiar media ; and from various motives, to give an 
 erroneous representation of their nature and bearings. To 
 which it may be added, that events and circumstances, which 
 to one man appear of little or no moment, are regarded bj 
 another as extremely important. Hence the student of En- 
 ghsh history who has leisure, industry, and opportunity to en- 
 counter the laborious undertaking, will ascend to the original 
 writers of our annals, and diligently peruse the statements 
 which they have handed down to posterity. Of these writers, 
 a catalogue, accompanied with copious critical remarks, is 
 given in Nicholson's English historical Library, of which the 
 following abridgment, may at least serve to evince what co- 
 pious materials serve to throw light, on almost every period 
 of our annals. 
 
 The earliest document of English history, now known to be 
 extant, is Gildas's Epistola de Excidio Britanniae, or account 
 of the devastation of Britain, by the Caledonians and the 
 Saxons. 
 
 Next in order, occurs the Venerable Bede's Historiae Ec-
 
 288 HISTORY. 
 
 clesiasticse gentis Anglorum Libri tres, which, though profes- 
 sedly a history of the church, throws some Hght on the civil 
 affairs of the period of which it treats. 
 
 Nennius, a monk whq flourished in the year 830, composed 
 several works, of which the only one remaining, is his Histo- 
 ria Britonum. 
 
 The laws of Ilowel Dha, will convey to the philosophical 
 reader many suggestions, as" to the state of society and manners 
 in the tenth century, at which period thej were promulgated. 
 
 The romances of Geoffrey of Monmouth, and the unimpor- 
 tant annals of Caradocus, the monk of Lancarvan, will scarce- 
 ly repay the trouble of a perusal but the reader will derive 
 some interesting information, from the Saxon chronicle, and 
 the Life of Alfred, commenced by Asserius Menevensis, and 
 completed by some of his learned contemporaries. 
 
 Etbelward Patricius lived in the year IO90, and compiled a 
 chronicle of the Saxon kings to the time of Edgar. 
 
 Verstegan's Restitution of decayed Intelligence in Antiqui- 
 ties, though by no means devoid of error, treats somewhat at 
 large on the language, religion, manners, and government of 
 the Anglo-Saxons. 
 
 It is not less true than surprising, that light is thrown upon 
 the remote periods of English historj', from the twilight of 
 Iceland. Aras Erode in his history of that island, gives an 
 account of the affairs of Denmark, Norway, and England. 
 The Norwegian histories of Theodoric, and of Snorro Sturle- 
 sonius, are also said to touch upon the exploits of our Danish 
 
 Saxo Grammaticus, Sweno Agonis, and Olaus Wormius in 
 their respective works, take cursory notice of the History and 
 Antiquities of England. 
 
 After the Conquest, Ingulphus, Abbot of Croyland, wrote a 
 history of his convent, in which he incidentally narrates the 
 general occurrences, which took took place in Bngland, during 
 the period of which he treats, which commences A. D. 66, 
 and terminates A. D. 1089.
 
 MODERN HISTORY. 289 
 
 Marianus Scotus, a monk of Mentz, wrote a general 
 history of Europe, in which he traces tjie English History to 
 the year 1083. 
 
 Of the history of Marianus, much use was made by 
 Fiorentius Bravoniu;?, a monk of Worcester, who, how- 
 ever made considerable additions to his narrative of events. 
 The work of Fiorentius, which is carried to the year 
 1119, was continued fifty years faither by one of his brother 
 monks. ' 
 
 Eadmerus, a monk of Canterbur}', wrote the history of Wil- 
 ham I. and 1[. and of Henry I. with great judgment and im- 
 partiality. 
 
 High encomiums have been justly bestowed on the work 
 of Wiljiam of Malmesbury, De Gestis Anglorum, which con- 
 tains a view of the English history, from the first arrival of 
 the Saxons in this country, to the end of the reign of King 
 Stephen. 
 
 The historical works of Simeon Dunelmensis, of Ealred, 
 Abbot of Rievaulx, and of Henry, Archdeacon of Hunting- 
 don, though they throw some light on the annals of the 
 twelfth century, are but of minor importance. 
 
 Gervase, a monk of Canterbury, wrote much at large upon 
 the British History ; but the only portion of his work which 
 has survived to modern times, commences with the year 1112, 
 and ends with the death of Richard I. ^ 
 
 Roger de Hoveden, a contemporary with the two former 
 historians, has traced our history to the fourth year of the 
 reign of King John. 
 
 Ralph de Diceto, Dean of London, who is much praised 
 by the illustrious Selden, wrote two historical treatises, the lat- 
 ter of which terminates with the early years of the reign of 
 John. 
 
 Matthew Paris, a monk of St, Albans, was endued with a 
 degree of intellect and integrity, far superior to what might 
 have been expected from the age in which he lived, and the 
 VOL. I, u
 
 200 HISTORY. 
 
 profession to which he was devoted. His Historia Major, 
 as continued by Risclianger, contains the history of our kiugs, 
 from the beginning of the reign of William I. to the conclu- 
 sion of that of Henry HI. Though the Chronicle of the 
 same author purports to be merely an abridgment of the 
 above-mentioned work, it in point of fact contains several par- 
 ticulars, which are not therein mentioned. 
 
 The chronicle of Melross, which is brought down to the 
 year 1270, though it was compiled in Scotland, treats princi- 
 pally of the affairs of England. 
 
 The history of Thomas Wikes, canon regular of Osney, 
 near Oxford, begins at the conquest, and ends at the deati) of 
 Henry I. 
 
 The Polychronicon Temporum of Roger Ce|trieus, 
 traces our history from tlie time of the Romans to the year 
 1330. 
 
 From the chronicles of John Brompton, Walter Hem- 
 mingford, and Ralph Higden, some useful information may 
 be gleaned. 
 
 Matthew of Westminster, a monk of the Benedictine order, 
 compiled a history which ends at the year 1307, and was con- 
 tinued by Adam Merimuth to the year 1380. 
 
 The chronicle of Henry Knighton touches slightly on the 
 Saxon period of our history, but treats more at large of the 
 posterior events to the year 1395. 
 
 The most interesting, and at the same time the most accu- 
 rate account of the wars of Edward IH. and of the disorderly 
 reign of his successor, Richard H. is to be found in the chro- 
 nicles of Sir John Froissart. 
 
 Thomas Walsingham, a Benedictine monk of St. Albans, 
 took up the thread of our history where it was dropped by 
 Matthew Paris, and continued it to the reign of Henry V. 
 
 Of the disasters which befel the English in France, at the 
 commencement of the reign of Henry VI. a particular ac- 
 count is given in ths chronicles of Monstrelet.
 
 MODERN HISTOnv. 291' 
 
 William Caxton, who was a menial servant to Margaret, 
 Duchess of Burgundy, sister to Edward IV. wrote a history 
 entitled Fructus Temporum, in the latter portion of which he 
 narrates interesting transactions, the truth of which, from the 
 situation that he held in the family of the Duchess, he had 
 good means of ascertaining. 
 
 In the sixteenth century, Robert Fabian, a merchant of 
 London, wrote his Historiarum ConcordantitE, which is held 
 in particular esteem, on account of the minuteness with which 
 he gives the local history of the Metropolis. 
 
 Polydore Virgil's history supplies a chasm of almost 
 seventy years in our annals, including particularly the lives of 
 Edward IV. and Edward V. His work also contains the 
 view ta^en by a zealous Catholic of the transactions of the 
 Reformation. 
 
 The history of the wars of the houses of York and Lan- 
 caster, was written by Edward Hall, whose work is, however, 
 chiefly valued by such of our antiquaries as are curious con- 
 cerning the changes of costume, which took place in England, 
 in the times of which he treats. 
 
 The chronicle of Ralph Holinshed^ continued to the year 
 1586 by John Hooper, alias Vowel, is a work deservedly held 
 in high estimation. 
 
 John Stowe, who died A. D. l605, left behind him a 
 historical work, the fruit of forty years' research ; in the revising 
 and continuing of which, Edward Hows was employed for 
 thirty years more. The result of this industry is an excellent 
 arrangement of a. great variety of valuable materials. 
 
 ' In the opinion of Mr. Nicholson, the author of the English 
 Historical Library, the Chronicle of John Speed is the best 
 work of the kind now extant. It commences with the earliest 
 period of our history, and is continued to the union of the 
 two kingdoms under James I. 
 
 The chronicle of Richard Baker contains the history 
 of our kings, from the time of the Romans to the end of the 
 reign of James I. It was brought down to the Restoration 
 
 u 2
 
 292 HISTORY. 
 
 by Edward Philip. This work is not, however, regarded 
 as by any means equal, in interest and authority, with that 
 of Speed.* 
 
 From the period of the union of the crowns of England and 
 Scotland, original records of our history are to be found iu 
 abundance in the proceedings of parliament and of our courts 
 of law ; in royal proclamations, manifestoes, and charters ; 
 in voluminous collections of state-papers made by Rushworth, 
 Thurloe, Clarendon, Whitelocke, Dalrymple, and others, 
 which it does not fall within the province of this Essay to 
 enumerate. To this stock of documents, the curiosity of 
 inquirers and the liberality of our nobility and gentry, 
 are almost annually making important additions, so that 
 with regard to the later annals of the British history, the 
 student is rather in danger of being bewildered by the va- 
 riety, than of being left in the dark by the want of historical 
 materials. 
 
 Though nothing can be further renwved from a spirit of 
 strife and discord than the spirit of true religion, and those 
 principles of gerraine Christianity, the aim of which is to in- 
 culcate, above all things, the virtues of justice, benevolence, 
 and mutual forbearance, it has unfortunately happened that, 
 by the intermixture of human interests with matters purely 
 spiritual, our holy faith has been perverted into an occasion 
 of animosity ; and religious disputes have even influenced the 
 destiny of states and kingdoms. The struggles of the first 
 Christians against the power of paganism ; the rise and pro- 
 
 Most of our ancient historians will be fonnd in Sir Henry Saville's 
 Qoinqne Scriptores AnjjHaj Histurisp, printed in 1652 ; in tie Rerum Angli- 
 cananim Scriptores, published at Oxford in 1 684, and in two vols, of Dr. Gale, 
 the first containing five, and the second, fifteen historical writers. There 
 are separate editions of Marianus, of Florentins, of Eadmenis, of Matthew 
 Paris, of Trivet, of Matthew of Westminster, of Froissart, ofT. Walsing* 
 hatn, and of William Caxton. Of Froissart and of Monstrelet, Thomas 
 Johnes, Esq. of Hufod, in the county of Cardigan, lias favoured the pnblic 
 wiili tianslations, which will long snrvive as memorials of his industry, and 
 of bis ability.
 
 MODERN HISTORY. S93 
 
 gress of theological sects and opinions ; the gradual usurpa- 
 tions of the Bishops of Rome and the rapid decline of iheir 
 authority, at the period when the human mind was roused 
 from the long sleep of ignorance the various modifications of 
 religious establishments-^ the oppression exercised, in different 
 countries, by the professors of the dominant belief, and the 
 resistance made against that oppression by sectaries these 
 are topics which cannot be neglected by him who would fully 
 reap the best fruit of historical inquiries an acquaintance 
 with the progress of the human intellect. These topics, in- 
 deed, are so prominent in importance, that they conthiually 
 present themselves to view in the details of the civil history of 
 the world. But they well merit being considered as objects 
 of primary consideration ; and being thus considered, they 
 constitute the subject of Ecclesiastical History- This thorny 
 maze of inquhy has been explored by a multitude of writers, 
 with various degrees of industry and discretion. But the 
 views of the student of general history, will be most com- 
 pletely answered by the perusal of the work of Mosheim, 
 whose learning and whose patience in investigation, are only 
 to be equalled by his candour as a critic, and by his fidelity as 
 a narrator of facts. 
 
 The general history of our native country, will give abun- 
 dant proof of the good sense and vigour, from time to time 
 evinced by our Roman Catholic ancestors, in resisting the, ex- 
 travagant claims and pretensions of the pontifical court. But 
 the series of the events and transactions which finally liberated 
 the subjects of these realms from the yoke of popery, are 
 recorded witli due particularity and minuteness by Bishop 
 Burnet, in his History of the Reformation, In point of com- 
 position this work is not a model of elegance ; but its matter 
 i^ excellent, and the information which it contains is founded 
 on the most authentic documents. 
 
 Whosoever wishes to trace the ramifications of Sectarianism' 
 in England, may be referred to Neale's History of the Puri- 
 tans, a work of considerable merit, which, commencing at
 
 U04i HISTORY. 
 
 the rise of Non-conformity in the days of Elizabeth, traces 
 the varying circumstances of tlie English Protestant Dis- 
 senters, to the triumph of the principles of equity in the passing 
 of the Toleration Act, in the first year of the reign of William 
 and Mary. 
 
 A spirited account of the rise and early progress of the 
 Reformation in Scotland, is to be found in Pr. M'Crie's 
 Life of John Knox ; the favourable reception of which work 
 is a happy indication of the encouragement at this day afforded, 
 by the suffrage of the public, to industrious research, an honest 
 representation of facts, and a rational attachment to the prin- 
 ciples of religious liberty. 
 
 The subsequent annals of Scottish ecclesiastical affairs are 
 given in sufficient detail in the latter part of the fifth, and in 
 the sixth and seventh books of Spottiswood's History of the 
 Church of Scotland and it may be observed, that the 
 struggles against the introduction of Episcopacy, 'which, from 
 time to time, disturbed the tranquillity of Scotland, till by the 
 Act of Union, the Presbyterian form of Church Government 
 was firmly established in that country, are in no publication so 
 ably narrated as in Mr. Lalng's History, which has before 
 been mentioned with due applause. 
 
 To the books which have been recommended as worthy 
 of perusal in the foregoing course of History, it were an easy 
 task to make considerable additions. But in a sketch of this 
 nature, designed for the guidance of the young Academic, 
 selection is obviously more desirable than variety compact- 
 ness, than diffusion. Though, therefore, many works of in- 
 disputable merit are omitted in the foregoing list, it is hoped 
 that the series of v/hich it is composed, will be found tolerably 
 well connected, sufficiently complete, and, above all, selected 
 with impartiality. In the perusal of these, as indeed of anj 
 historical works, the student must not neglect the requisite 
 geographical investigations ; nor must he turn with disgust 
 from the dry arrangements of Chronology. It will, of course, 
 then be expedient that he should provide himself with the
 
 MODERN HISTORY. 295 
 
 best maps, both ancient and modern, and with 4he most 
 copious and accurate historical and chronological tables, 
 by frequent reference to which, his memory will be aided, 
 and a more vivid representation of past transactions will be im- 
 pressed upon his mind. But above all for the precept can- 
 not be too frequently or too anxiously inculcated let him make 
 historical facts the subjects of serious meditation. Let him 
 consider them as exhibiting a picture of human life, and as 
 tending to refine the moral sense, nd to correct the evil pas- 
 sions of men, by exhibiting, in striking points of view, the 
 dignity of virtue, and the deformity of vice. 
 
 H-*
 
 CHAP. XX. 
 
 GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 The importance of Geography to history Divisions of Geography An- 
 cient Geography The Gnomon Tbales Meton First geograpliical 
 observation Excellent Roman custom Roman Empire delineated 
 Ptolemy Dionysius Knowledge of the globe by the ancients Middle 
 ages Iceland, discovery of Columbus ^Discovery of America Vasco 
 de Gama Circamnavigatioiis of the globe Discoveries. 
 
 Geography, is, as its name imports, a description of 
 the terrestrial globe, and particularly of the known and habitable 
 part thereof, and hence we infer its great importance in con- 
 nexion with the study of history. Without a competent know- 
 ledge of the situation and relative magnitudes of the several 
 countries of the earth, no student of history can have clear and 
 distinct ideas of what he reads. As history is divided into 
 ancient and modem, so also must the science of geography be 
 considered. Those who have been more particular in their 
 descriptions, have considered history, and geography also, as 
 naturally admitting of three divisions. (1) The ancient or 
 classical) which describes the state of the earth, so far as it 
 was known from the remotest antiquity, to the decline of the 
 Roman empire. (2) That of the middle ages, which reaches 
 to the restoration of learning in the beginning of the fifteenth
 
 HISTORY OF GEOGRAPHY. 297 
 
 century, when the discoveries of the Portuguese began to lay 
 broader foundations Of the science ; and, (3) Modem geogra- 
 phy, which embraces all the recent discoveries. We shall 
 endeavour to trace the rise and progress of the science, and in 
 so doing we shall borrow freely from a work by Dr. John 
 Blair, that he pubhshed in 1784, to accompany and illus- 
 trate his excellent Chronological Tables, which will be de- 
 scribed hereafter. 
 
 The geography of ancient writers scarcely went beyond the 
 description o countries. Of this kind is that portion of it, 
 which we find in the books of Moses, written, perhaps, about 
 fourteen or fifteen hundred years before the birth of Christ. 
 Of this kind also is the geography of Homer, in his Iliad and 
 Odyssey, who flourished about nine centuries before the Cliris- 
 tian aera. The geographical knowledge that we derive from He- 
 rodotus, who lived five hundred years after the lime of Homer, 
 is partial, imperfect, and not at all to be depended on. It 
 relates chiefly to certain parts of Asia ; to the northern and 
 western parts of Europe, and also to part of Africa. 
 
 It should seem that those who made geography thgr pur- 
 suit in those early times, being destitute of mathematical 
 instruments, and of course unable to make any accurate astro- 
 nomical observations, began to determine the situation of 
 places according to climates, which they probably fixed on, 
 firom the form and colour of certain animals that were to be 
 found in the different countries. The appearance of negroes, 
 called, at that time, Ethiopians, and of the larger sized ani- 
 mals, as the rhinoceros and elephant, suggested the line of 
 division, where the limits of the torrid zone began towards the 
 north, and terminated towards the south. This manner of 
 dividing the surface of the earth into climates, must be consi- 
 dered as the earliest outline of geography in the first ages of 
 the world. 
 
 The Chaldeans and Egyptians, who were distinguished by 
 their skill in geometry and astronomy, were of course the first 
 persons who paid any particular attention to geography, and
 
 298 GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 it has been toid that the earliest map was made by order of 
 Sesostris I., who conquered Egypt. Tliis prince having tra- 
 versed a great part of the earth as it was then known, record- 
 ed his march in maps, and gave copies of those maps, not 
 only to 4he Egyptians, but to the inhabitants of Scythia, or 
 Tartaiy, to their great astonishment. The Jev^ hkewise 
 seem to have had geographers among them, and it has been 
 thought, by able commentators on the Scriptures, that they 
 possessed a map of Palestine, when they assigned different 
 portions to the seven tribes at Shiloh : " Go", said Joshua, 
 " and walk through the land, and describe it, and come again 
 to me, that I may here cast lots for you." See Joshua, chap, 
 xviii. and xix. In confirmation of this opinion, Josephus says, 
 that when Joshua sent out people from the different tribes to 
 measure the land, he gave them, as companions, persons well 
 skilled in geometry, whose knowledge would prevent them 
 from deviating far from the truth : hence it is inferred, and 
 wiih a great shew of reason, that a geometrical survey was 
 taken of the Holy Land. 
 
 Besides the method of dividing the surface of the globe by 
 climates, it is certain that the Egyptians and Babylonians 
 adopted another, which was that of determining the situation 
 of places, or their distance from the equator, by observing 
 the length of their longest and shortest days. This they per- 
 formed by means of a gnomon,* erected upon a horizontal 
 
 The simplicity of the gnomon for the pnrpose above alluded to, ren- 
 ders it very probable that it was the first instrument ever used for astrono- 
 mical purposes. All the knowledge that the ancients had of tlie solar 
 tbeory, seems to have been derived from the gnomon. The principle of 
 this instrument is readily described : if the heiglit of a vertical staff or pil- 
 lar, be compared with its shadow on a perfectly horizontal plane, the 
 altitude of the sn may be found by the most simple trigonometrical cal- 
 culation, because the height of the pillar will be to the length of the pro- 
 jected shadow, as the tangent to radius, or as the sine to the co-sine of the 
 altitude reqnired. [See our chapter on trigonometry, where this is more 
 fnlly explained.] 
 
 The ancient obeluks found in Egypt were probably, many of tUpm, at
 
 HISTORY OF GEOGRAPHY. 299 
 
 plane, by which they were enabled to measure the shortness 
 or length of the shadow in proportion to the height of the 
 sun. 
 
 Thales, a celebrated philosopiier, and one of the seven 
 sages of Greece, who flourished about 600 years before the 
 Christian aera, discovered the passage of the sun from tropic 
 
 least, instruments of this kind : this was their original purpose, and the 
 figure of an obelisk being rather pleasing to the sight, it was adopted as an 
 ornament to public places. As practical astronomy advanced towards per- 
 fection, the gnomon was discovered to be considerably defective. The 
 shadow is generally ill-defined, so that its length cannot be very accurately 
 measured, and to obviate this, the gnomon must be of greater height than 
 is easily practicable. In modern times, therefore, the original gnomon has 
 been abandoned, and a new one substituted in its place. The gnomons of 
 Italy are usually constnicted in large buildings, in tiie upper part of which 
 an aperture is made to allow a luminous circular image of the sun to be 
 formed on the pavement below, on which a meridian line is accurately traced^ 
 A plumb line is suspended from the aperture to the floor, so that the 
 height of the aperture, and the distance of the solar image, from the point 
 beneath it, is very accurately ascertained. There are on record some very 
 ancient observations made with gnomons, particularly of Pythias, who 
 observed the solstices at Marseilles, full three centuries before the birth of 
 Christ. One still older is mentioned by Pliny, as erected by Augustus, 
 which had been brought from Egypt, and was made originally by Sesostris 
 nearly a thousand years before the Christian aera. It was used by Manlius 
 for the same purpose for which it was originally destined, namely, to mea- 
 sure the height of the sun. The most famous gnomon of modern times, was 
 constructed in 1575, by Ignatius Dante, a Dominican friar, and afterwards 
 bishop of Alatri, in the church of St. Petronius at Bologna. It was origin- 
 ally only about seventy feet high, but was raised by Cassini in 1653, tathe 
 height of 90 feet ; and it was with this that he made his solar observations. 
 Almost all modern gnomons are accompanied by a meridian line, ornament- 
 ed with the names of the month and the signs of tlie zodiac, so as to serve 
 as a Calendar. One of great note is in the Cartliusian convent at Rome, 
 built on the Ancient Thermae of Dioclesian, by Bianchini. In the royal 
 observatory at Paris, there is one erected by the celebrated Picard ; and 
 another in St. Sulpice at Paris, begun by Sully, a watchmaker, in 1727, but 
 which has since been improved and highly ornamented. The reason why 
 none of these gnomons are to be found in this country, is, that we do not 
 regulate our clocks by solar, but by mean time; and another circumstance 
 may be, that our climate is very unfavourable for solar observations. We 
 shall have occasioD to refer again to this subject. 
 
 f
 
 300 GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 to tropic, uhich enabled him to ascertain the four particular 
 days when that body appeared to be in the equinoctial and sol- 
 sticial points in tlie heavens. He was led to the division of the 
 year into its four parts, and is said to have written treatises on 
 the tropics and solstices ; and, as we have no account of any 
 othe^ instrument being at that time known, by the use of 
 which the discovery could have been made, it has been con- 
 cluded, that Thales employed the gnomon in his observations, 
 the use of which he had probably learnt in his travels into 
 Egypt. It has been observed, as a proof of this, that calcu- 
 lations of the kind were familiar to him, that he first deter- 
 mined the height of the Egyptian pyramids by their shadows, 
 at the moment when the shadow of an object is equal to its 
 height, that is, when the sun is precisely 45 degrees above the 
 horizon. To Thales also has been ascribed the division of the 
 year into three hundred and sixty-five days ; this, however, 
 there is scarcely any doubt, he learnt at Egypt, and the disco- 
 very is, with great probability, traced to Trismegistus, who is 
 supposed to have been a contemporary of Moses. Pliny 
 asserts, that the addition of five days and a quarter added to 
 three hundred and sixty days, into which the year was first di- 
 vided, was made by observing when the shadow returned to 
 its marks, a proof that either the gnomon, or some similar 
 instrument was used ; and hence it has been inferred that the 
 Greeks derived their knowledge of the gnomon fi-om the 
 Egyptians, to whom it was known long before the dawu of 
 Greek learning. See Chronology. 
 
 From the time of Thales, and his immediate successors, 
 geography seems to have received very little improvement for 
 two hundred years, till the establishment of the famous school 
 of Alexandria; although Pythagoras and his disciples were 
 rightly informed with regard to the true system of the world, 
 being satisfied that the sun was in the centre, and that the 
 earth was globular, and had an annual motion round the sun, 
 and a diurnal motion on its own imaginary axis. 
 
 During this period, we have an astronomical observation of
 
 HISTORY OF GEOGRAPHY. SOl 
 
 considerable importance to geography, and the first that is 
 recorded, as made in Greece. It was taken by Meton and 
 Euctemon, who observed the summer solstice at Athens, on a 
 day that corresponded to our 27th of June, 432 B. C. This 
 observation was probably applied by the two philosophers to 
 the determining the latitude of Athens at the same time ; for, 
 as the length of the shadow of the gnomon was attentively 
 watched at the moment of the solstice, the proportion of that 
 to the gnomon's height was easily known, by which the sun's 
 altitude would be given. There is reason to believe that 
 Timotheus and Aristillus, who began to make observations 
 about three centuries before the birth of Christ, were the 
 first who introduced the manner of determining the position 
 of the stars, according to their longitudes and latitudes, with 
 respect to the equator. This is ascertained from the " Al- 
 magest" of Ptolemy : one of their observations gave rise to 
 the discovery of the precession of the equinoxes, which will 
 be explained in our chapter " On Astronomy." Hence Hip- 
 parchus was led to dispose the different parts of the earth ac- 
 cording to latitude and longitude, this being a new application 
 of that art which had been introduced in the arrangement of 
 the constellations, and therefore equally proper to be adopted 
 in tracing the meridians and parallels of the earth. Hippar- 
 chus, by thus uniting geography and astronomy, fixed the for- 
 mer on a solid and invariable foundation. 
 
 When the true principles of geography were thus pointed 
 out by the invention of longitude and latitude, maps began to 
 assume a new form of projection, essentially different from 
 those in use prior to this period. 
 
 It was an universal custom among the Romans, after they 
 had conquered and subdued any provinces, to have a map, or 
 painted representation of them, carried in triumph; and in 
 this way, those who were the conquerors, became the de- 
 hneators of the world, and thus rendered the horrors of war 
 subservient to the interests and extension of science. Everjr
 
 302 GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 new war produced a new survey and itinerary of the countries 
 where the scene of action occurred; thus the materials of 
 geography were accumulated by every additional conquest So 
 attentive were the Romans to the accumulation of this kind of 
 knowledge, that we find Julius Coesar ordered a general survey 
 to be made of the whole Roman empire, by a decree of the 
 senate, selecting, for the purpose, persons who had been well 
 instructed in every branch of science. The three surveyor* 
 were Zenodoxus, Theodotus, and Polyclitus, each of whom, 
 with proper assistants, was appointed to survey a different di- 
 vision of the empire ; and the survey is said to have occupied 
 more than twenty-five years. There are Roman itineraries 
 still extant, which shew with what accuracy their surveys were 
 made in every province. 
 
 To shew, however, that geography was not at this period a 
 new science in the world, we may observe, that before the 
 Romans engaged in the business of depicting countries, Neco, 
 king of Egypt, ordered the Phoenicians to make a survey of 
 the whole coast of Africa, which they accomplished in three 
 years. Darius procured the Ethiopic sea and the mouth of 
 the Indus to be surveyed. Other instances might be pro- 
 duced, but these are sufficient to shew how much geography, 
 as a science, was cultivated at the period of which we are 
 peaking. In the timQ of Socrates, it is evident, that maps of 
 some kind were not uncommon at Athens, for this philosopher 
 is represented as mortifying the pride of Alcibiades, by de- 
 siring him to point out his territories in Attica in a map ; and 
 Pliny relates, that Alexander, in his expedition into Asia, took 
 with him two geographers to measure and describe the roads, 
 and that, from their itineraries, the writers of the following 
 ages took many particulars. According to Slrabo, a copy of 
 Alexander's survey was given by Xenocles, his treasurer, to 
 Patrocles, his geographer, who was also commander of the 
 fleets of Seleucus and Antiochus. Patrocles was author of 
 work on geography, wliich is frequently quoted by Strabo and
 
 HISTORY OF GEOGRAPHY. 303 
 
 Pliny, and it appears that he furnished Eratosthenes with the 
 chief materials and authorities for constructing the oriental 
 part of his map of the known world. 
 
 From the aera of Alexander's expedition and conquest, Geo- 
 graphy began to assume a new form, and it went on improving 
 till the time of Ptolemy, in the second century of the Chris- 
 tian aera, who contributed greatly to the improvement of this 
 science, by a more accurate delineation of the terrestrial globe, 
 than any that had then been given of it. He availed himself 
 of all the observations of those who had gone before him, 
 corrected the mistakes of some, and supplied the many defects 
 of others ; and, by reducing the distances of places on the 
 earth to degrees and minutes, making use of the degrees of 
 latitude and longitude, and settling the situation of places by 
 astronomical observations, he reduced geography to a regular 
 system ; and, seventeen hundred years ago, actually laid a 
 foundation for those farther discoveries and improvements, 
 which resulted from the progressive, and, at present, advanced 
 state of geography. 
 
 Some time after Ptolemy, Dionysius, the African, flourished, 
 usually called the Periegetic, from the title of a work that he 
 composed in verse, containing a description of the world, 
 which is considered as one of the most correct systems of an- 
 cient geography. It was translated into Latin verse first by 
 Priscian, and afterwa<;ds by Arienus, the latter of whom also 
 wrote a description of the maritime coasts. 
 
 We come now to speak of the knowledge which the an-^ 
 cients possessed of the globe, and of which there have been 
 various opinions ; but, according to Montucia, whose autho- 
 rity may be safely depended on, they were well acquainted 
 with the greater part of Europe, at least, all that portion of it 
 which had been made subject to the Roman empire, as far as 
 the banks of the Danube and the Rhine. They were familiar 
 with Germany and Sarmatia, the latter including much of the 
 northern parts of Europe and Asia. They had some know- 
 liedge of the Baltic, as a fleet had been sent by Augustus,
 
 304 GEOGRAPHY. * 
 
 which sailed as far as die modern Jutland, which was the Cim* 
 brian Chersonesus of antiquity. Tliey had acquired a know- 
 ledge of the island of Britain, from the expeditions of Julius 
 Caesar and Claudius ; but the northern parts of the island, and 
 tlie whole of Ireland, were to them nations of rude, uncivilized 
 savages. The boundary of their knowledge of Europe to the 
 north, was Iceland, supposed to be the same with what they 
 denominated the " Ultima Thule." 
 
 With respect to Asia, they surveyed the country as far as 
 the river Ganges, and the immense tract comprehended be- 
 tween the Indus and Ganges, was called by them India 
 on this side the Ganges. Farther on, towards the north of 
 China, in the neighbourhood of the mountains, where these 
 rivers derive tlieir source, they placed several nations of 
 people ; and, beyond these, still more to the east, the Seres, 
 and upon the coast of the Gulf, which is now the bay of 
 Cochin China, called by Ptolemy, the Great Bay, were situ- 
 ated the Sinae. The Seres mentioned by the same geogra- 
 pher were probably the inhabitants of the northern parts of 
 China, and the Sinae those of the southern parts, who very 
 early occupied what we now denominate Cochin China, Ton- 
 quin, &c. countries which, in process of time, they entirely 
 subjugated. They maintained a commerce by land with the 
 Seres, and their route is pointed out in one of the maps of 
 Ptolemy. 
 
 The ancients, in their accounts, carried tlie eastern extre- 
 mity of Asia much farther to the east than it is found to ex- 
 tend by modem geographers; for, according to them, the 
 Seres and Sinas were situated about the longitude of 180", 
 while the meridian of Pekin reaches no farther than 134% 
 reckoning the longitude from the most distant of the Canary 
 islands, as was done by Ptolemy. To the north of the Indus, 
 the ancient geographers placed the Scythians and Hyperbo- 
 reans, that is, the Tartars and Samoides of modem date, and 
 some other nations to an indefinite extent, who were supposed 
 to form an insiu-mountable barrier, having behind them aa
 
 HISTORY OF GEOGRAPHY. ^05 
 
 ocean of ice, which was believed to communicate with the 
 Caspian Sea. The boundary of Asia, assigned by the ancients 
 to the south, was the Indian Ocean, and they were acquainted 
 with its communication with the Red Sea by means of a 
 strait, the figure of m hich is very ill expressed in their maps. 
 This is also the case with the Persian Gulf, with which they 
 were acquainted. 
 
 The situation of the island of Taprobana, referred to by 
 Ptolemy, and so celebrated among the ancients, has never 
 been ascertained ; some suppose it was no other than the pen- 
 insula of India ; others contend that it was the modern island 
 of Ceylon ; and there are some who refer it to Sumatra. The 
 ancients were acquainted with the peninsula of Malacca, 
 which they called the Golden Chersonesus, and they seem to 
 have examined the gulf formed by that land, which is now 
 kflown as the Gulf of Cochin China, or the Gulf of Tonquin. 
 There is no reason for supposing that they were acquainted 
 with Java, Borneo, and that numerous group of islands which 
 form, in that part of the globe, probably, the greatest Archi- 
 pelago in the world. It is not less surprizing that the Mal- 
 dives had escaped the observation of these navigators ; a cir- 
 cumstance that seems to prove they never ventured out into 
 the open sea. 
 
 The ancients were acquainted only with those parts of 
 Africa that lay along ^le coast, and to a very small distance 
 inland, if we except Egypt, which they had explored as far as 
 the cataracts of the Nile, and beyond them, to the island of 
 Meroe, about the Oth degree of north latitude. Their know- 
 ledge of the coasts of Africa, on the side of the Red Sea, ex- 
 tended no farther than the shores of that sea, excepting the 
 part which was dependent on Egypt; the interior of the 
 country being inhabited by a wild and ferocious people. Nor 
 were they at all acquainted with the countries which lay be- 
 yond the strait, and Ptolemy seems to have given no credit 
 to the navigators who were said to have sailed round that part 
 of the world, for he has left the continent of Africa imper- 
 
 VOL. I. X
 
 306 GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 feet towards the south. Strabo and Pomponius Mela were 
 better acquainted with the subject ; they decidedly asserted 
 that Africa was a peninsula, and that it was joined to tlie con- 
 tinent only by a neck of land, which is now called the isthmus 
 of Suez. 
 
 We may observe, that the coast of Africa, upon the Medi- 
 terranean, was once covered with towns, dependent upon the 
 Roman Empire, flourishing and highly poljshed, which, at 
 present, and for ages past, is, and has been, the harbour of pirates, 
 whom the foolish jealousy of the great commercial nations sup- 
 ports to their own prejudice and disgrace. Proceeding from the 
 straits of Cadiz or Gibraltar, they coasted along as far as a 
 cape, which they called " Hesperion-Keras," probably the 
 modern Cape de Verde. The Fortunate Islands, or Hespe- 
 rides, at present the Canaries, seem to have been the bound- 
 aries of ancient geography to the west, as the Seres and Sinae 
 already referred to, were to the east. 
 
 Patteson, in his Atlas, says, " there is little doubt concern- 
 ing the names by which most of the principal countries of 
 Europe were known to the ancients ; nor is there any difficulty 
 in disposing the chief nations which ancient writers have enu- 
 merated in the south-west of Asia, or on the African coast of 
 the Mediterranean ; but, of the north and north-east parts of 
 Europe, about two-thirds of Asia towards the same quarters, 
 and nearly the same proportion of ^frica to the south, they 
 appear to have been wholly ignorant. Of America, they did 
 not even suspect the existence; and if it ever happened, as 
 some writers have imagined, that Phoenician merchant-ships 
 were driven by storms across the Atlantic to the American 
 shores, it does not appear that any of them ever returned to 
 report the discovery. 
 
 " Tlie names of provinces, sub-divisions, and petty tribes, 
 mentioned by ancient authors, in those countries which were 
 the scenes of Roman, Grecian, or Israelitish transactions, are 
 almost as numerous as in a modem map of the same coun- 
 tries, and the situations of many of them can be very nearly
 
 HISTORY OF GEOGRAPHY. SO? 
 
 assigned ; but the limits of each, or indeed of the states and 
 nations to which they belonged, can, in very few instances, be 
 precisely fixed. Thus the southern boundaries of the Sar- 
 matse, in Europe, cannot be ascertained within' a degree; and, 
 in France, neither the limits of the people called the Belgae, 
 Celtae, and Aquitani ; nor those of the Roman divisions, viz. 
 Belgica, Lugdunensis, &c. can be laid down but by conjec- 
 ture. 
 
 During the middle ages, geography shared the fate of other 
 arts and sciences, and went backward rather than advanced. 
 The wcnkness of the Roman emperors, the relaxation of mili- 
 tary discipline, the passion for luxury, which banished every 
 desire of improvement, and every attempt at discovery, and' 
 the continual incursions of the barbarous nations, while they 
 contributed to hasten the fall of the western empire, accele- 
 rated the ruin of the arts, and enveloped the world in pro- 
 found and universal ignorance. The principal geographers, 
 during the dark ages, were Arabians, who applied themselves 
 chiefly to the study and translation of Ptolemy's works, and, as 
 is not uncommon in versions from one language to another, 
 increased, instead of diminishing, the number of his errors. 
 The principal attempt which they made towards the improve- 
 ment of geography was, that of measuring a degree of the 
 meridian on the plain of Shinar, near Babylon, in the begin- 
 ning of the ninth century ; but, so far wefe they from the 
 truth, that the result came out between fifty-six and fifty-seven 
 Arabian miles, which was equal to sixty-five English miles : 
 and the almost only geographical discovery, during the lapse 
 of twelve or fourteen centuries, from the decline of the Ro- 
 man empire, was that of Iceland. It was in 86 1 that a Nor- 
 wegian navigator, in a voyage to the Feroe Islands, was driven 
 upon the coast of an unknown country, to which he gave the 
 name of Snio-land, or Snow-land, as characteristic of the 
 mountains covered with snow. Another navigator from the 
 same country, passed a winter on the northern shores of this 
 island, and the immense shoals of ice that he met with, led 
 
 x2
 
 308 GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 Jiim to bestow upon it the appellation by which it has ever 
 since been known. 
 
 When the clouds of ignorance, which had overspread 
 Europe for so many centuries, began to disperse, and science 
 and commerce to assume their proper rank among the affairs 
 of men, geographical improvements attained an extension, and 
 a degree of correctness unknown to former ages. The dis- 
 covery of the properties of the loadstone, and of its applica- 
 tion, in the Mariner's Compass, to directing ships across the 
 ocean, gave an astonishing facility to geography, and led to 
 the most important results in every part of the globS, This 
 discovery was announced about the year 1302, and in 1360, 
 Nicholas Lynn, a friar and astronomer of Oxford, undertook 
 a voyage to the northern islands of Europe, in order to 
 prove the virtues of the magnet in the northern ocean. The 
 Portuguese were also among the maritime adventurers of this 
 period, and their discoveries towards the east began early in 
 the 15th century. TIjc island of Madeira was visited by 
 them in 1419, and its fertility, and the salubrity of its climate, 
 soon caused it to be colonized. Cape Bajador, on the western 
 coast of Africa, was first passed by them in 1433 : St. Mary, 
 one of the x\zores, having been visited hi the preceding 
 year. Cape de Verde and the islands opposite to it were 
 known and explored in the year 1446, and farther discoveries 
 were . likewise made in the Azores about the same time. It 
 was not till the year 147 1 that the equator was crossed, and 
 it was at or near this period that Bartholemew Diaz was sent 
 for the purpose of making discoveries towards the south-east, 
 when he descried the grand southern promontoi7 of Africa ; 
 but the season was so tempestuous that he was prevented from 
 passing it ; and hence for a time it was denominated Cabo 
 Tormentosa, or Cape of Tempests ; but it afterwards ob- 
 tained the appellation of the Cape of Good Hope. 
 
 While the Portuguese were thus pursuing their way to 
 glory and wealth in the east, Spain was influenced by the 
 vast projects of Cliristophcr Columbus. He imagined tliat
 
 DISCOVERIES. 309 
 
 the eastern limits of India could not be very distant from the 
 western shores of Spain, an error which probably induced 
 him to undertake the enterprize that led to the discovery of 
 the American continent. For a considerable time his plans 
 were treated with contempt by the sovereigns to whom he 
 proposed them. At length he obtained a patron in Isabella 
 of Spain, and with three small and ill equipped vessels set 
 sail for India, as he hoped ; but alter enduring many evils, 
 necessarily attendant upon such an attempt, he arrived at a 
 new world instead of the distant shores of the old one. He 
 sailed from Spain on the 3d of August, 1492, and on the 
 12th of the following October, fell in with an American 
 island, which he named San Salvador. Encouraged by this 
 success, he persuaded the court of Spain to allow him to 
 make three other voyages, in the course of which he discovered 
 the continent, and many other islands; and in the year 149^, 
 he fouiided a town at St. Domingo, which was the first 
 European settlement in the western world. It obtained the 
 name of America from Amerigo Vespucci, who published an 
 account of the discoveries made by Columbus. 
 
 We must not omit to observe that some modern writers 
 have claimed the honour of this most important discovery for 
 a German, Martin Behem, or Boehm, a native of Nuremberg 
 in Franconia. This person had, in early life, studied under 
 the illustrious Regiomontanus, and in 1459-60, he established a 
 colony at Fagal, one of the Azores, where he resided till J 484, 
 when, by the patronage of John II. of Portugal, he under- 
 took a voyage to the south-west, and discovered that part of 
 America that is now called Brazil, and sailed through the 
 {Straits of Magellan. This was eight years before the first voyage 
 of Columbus. The advocates for the fame of Behem main-?- 
 tain that Columbus would not have thought of his expedition, 
 had he not obtained some information on the subject from 
 their hero, while in the island of Madeira. It may, how- 
 ever, be remarked, that Dr. Robertson, whose character as an
 
 310 GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 historian deserves the highest respect, treats the history of 
 Behem as a fiction, and as such we should not have introduced 
 it iii our work, had not his claims been lately revived by M. 
 Otto in the Transactions of the American Society established 
 at Philadelphia. In point of fact, to the student of geography, 
 it is but of little moment to whom the honour of discovering 
 the continent of America is due; he is concerned only with 
 the fact of its existence, which he applies to the extensions of 
 his geographical knowledge ; and it will, to him, be matter, 
 hereafter, of curious research to examine the claims of dis- 
 coverers, or pretended discoverers, not only on this, but other 
 subjects. 
 
 The success obtained in the western hemisphere, acted as 
 a fresh stimulus to the same spirit in the east ; another ex- 
 pedition sailed from Portugal, under the command of Vasco 
 de Gama, who was more successful than Diaz had been, and 
 passed the Cape of Good Hope in November, 1497. At 
 first he employed himself in exploring the eastern shores , 
 
 of Africa, as far as Zanguebar, when he launched courage- | 
 
 ously to the East, and arrived in 149B at Calicut on the coast 
 of Malabar. Men of genius and talents applied the powers 
 of their mind to the improvement of geography, by other 
 means, than that of practical navigation ; in the retirement of 
 the closet, they devised methods of aiding those who were 
 capable of bringing their theories to the test of experiment. 
 
 Duration and space, however different in nature, it was 
 soon found, might be applied, in an astronomical or geogra- 
 phical sense, to the measure of each other, with great precision. 
 For as one hour in time, corresponds to 15 degrees of lon- 
 gitude on the earth, or in other words, as a space on the 
 earth, equal to 15 degrees, requires one hour to pass by a 
 given point, longitude may be expressed by time, or space^ 
 with equal accuracy and clearness : thus we may say, a 
 place is 15 or 30 degrees east or west longitude from London, 
 or that it is one hour or two hours earlier or later time than
 
 DISCOVERIES. 311 
 
 that city; and we know on what meridian to look for it, 
 hence it was inferred, that accurate and well going time-pieces 
 would afford a method of ascertaining longitude. 
 
 Notwithstanding the vast additions that had been made to 
 the previous stock of geographical knowledge, by the dis- 
 coveries in both hemispheres, it is not certain that little more 
 than a third of the earth's surface was as yet known. Although 
 more than half the globe, from east to west, had been 
 traversed, the northern and southern parts were still unexplored. 
 The limits of Asia on the east, and of America on the west ; 
 and whether the two continents were joined, and thus, in fact 
 formed only one, or whether they were separate were matters 
 of mere conjecture; even the spherical figure of the earth 
 rested almost entirely upon reasoning and theory, which, how- 
 ever, was confirmed pretty strongly by the curved line formed 
 by the shadow on the sun and moon in solar and lunar 
 eclipses. By many theorists at this period, and for three cen- 
 turies after, it was believed there must be a southern continent 
 somewhere as a balance to those chiefly in the northern hemis- 
 phere. Accordingly the hopes of interest and honour impelled 
 individuals and nations, to fit out expeditions for the purpose 
 of still further discovery. Hence arose the circumnavigation 
 of the globe, which constitutes a memorable epocha in the 
 history of geography, and by which the globular form of the 
 earth was experimentally proved ; and at length the idea of 
 another continent has been completely banished from the 
 mind. 
 
 Ferdinand Magellan, a Portuguese, was the first who 
 bravely undertook the circumnavigation of the globe. He 
 sailed from Seville, a port in Spain, on the 10th of August, 
 1519; and, on the 6th of November following, entered the 
 strait which has ever since gone by the name, though the ad- 
 vocates for Behem give the honour to him. This strait, 
 which is near the southern extremity of America, he navigated, 
 and after a tedious voyage, found himself in the South-Sea. 
 He then directed his course towards the north west, on that
 
 312 GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 hitherto unknown ocean called from its tranquillity, the Pacific, 
 for four months, without meeting with any thing of importance. 
 He still proceeded on his voyage, and in March, 1521, dis- 
 covered the Ladrojie islands, from thence he went to others, 
 probably the Philippines, on one of which he was unfortu- 
 nately killed in a skirmish with the natives. After this, the 
 ship, entrusted to the care of Jean Sebastian del Cano, 
 passed by Borneo to the ^Moluccas, which had been visited 
 before by the Portuguese. From these it proceeded to, and 
 passed the Siimatran group of islands and the Cape of Good 
 Hope, and returned to Seville, the port from whence it started, 
 in September, 1522, after a voyage of three years and a 
 month.* 
 
 We shall set down in this note a brief account of the other most re- 
 markable voyages that have been made round the globe, in a chronological 
 order, beginning with our conntryman, 
 
 Sir Francis Drake, a native of Tavistock, in Devonshire, who sailed 
 from Plymouth on the 13th of December, 1577, fell in with the coast of 
 Barbary on tije 25lli, and with Cape de Verde on tlie 29th ; on the 13th of 
 March, he passed the equinoctial ; on the 5th of April, he made the coast 
 of Brazil, at the 30th degree of South Latitude, and entered the river La 
 Plata ; on the 29th of May he entered the port of St. Juliens, and on the 
 20th of August, be entered the straits of Magellan, and passed through 
 them on the 25th of September. On the 25th of November, he came to 
 Macao, in the latitude of 30 degrees ; thence he coasted along Chili and 
 Pern, to the heii^ht of 48'' N. Lat. here he landed and railed the country 
 Ifew Albion, taking possession of it for Queen Elizabeth ; from thence he 
 sailed to tlie Moluccas, which he reached early in November: he next 
 proceeded to the Celibes,'1kird then to Java, from which island he came to 
 the Cape of Good Hope on the 15th of June; and on the 12th of July, he 
 passed the line, reached the coast of Guinea on the 16th. On the 11th of 
 September, he made the island of Tercera, and entered the harbour of 
 Plymouth. See Stockdale's edition of Campbell's Admirals, Vol. I. 
 
 Sir Thumas Cavendish sailed from Plymouth, having two small ships, 
 trader his command ; on the 1st of August, 1536, he passed through the 
 struts of Magellan, took many rich prizes along the coasts of Chili and 
 Pern, and completely circumnavigated the globe, returning by the Cape of 
 Good Hope on the 9th of September, 1588, having been ont little more 
 than two years and a monili. 
 
 Simon Cordes and James Mahu, Dntcbmen, sailed ronnd the globe ; the 
 former finishing his voyage in 158,at the time the latter set out. Pre-
 
 DISCOVERIES. 313 
 
 Most of the American islands had heeu discovered, and the 
 western and eastern shores of the continent explored, by Co- 
 lumbus, Cortes, the two Cabots, and others, in the latter end 
 of the preceding century ; but the Bermudas or Sommer's 
 
 viously to these, a native of Utrecht, viz. Oliver De Noort, had sailed 
 round the earth in little more than three years. 
 
 George Spillenberger, a Fleming, set sail from the Texel the 6tb of 
 *Angust, 1614, and having circumnavigated the globe, landed in Zealand the 
 first of June, 1616. Le Maire and William Schouter, to whom we have re- 
 ferred in the text, made a successful voyage round the earth in two years 
 and eighteen days, having left the Texel on the 14th of June, i 615, and re- 
 turned to the same place on the 1st of July, 1617. James, the Hermit, 
 sailed round the globe, during the years i6'23, 4, 5, and 6. 
 
 Our countryman, Lord Anson, set sail in Sept. 1740, doubled Cape Horn, 
 crossed the great Pacific Ocean, and returned by the Cape of Good Hope, 
 in 1744. Commodore Byron sailed from the Downs, on the 2l3t of June, 
 1764, to make discoveries in the South Seas : he passed through the straits 
 of Magellan, crossed the South Sea, and returned on the 9tU of May, 1766 j 
 he first discovered and conversed with the Patagonians, a gigantic race of 
 men in South America. In his course, he met with, and explored to a 
 certain extant, Disappointment island, King George's island. Prince of 
 Wales's island, Duke of York's island, and Byron's island. Captain Wallis 
 made a like voyage in twenty-one months ; but Captain Carteret, who set 
 out with him, was uufortrtnately separated from his friend by adverse weather, 
 and did not reachhome till March, 1769. Wallis was the first who fell in with 
 Whitsun island. Queen Ciiarlotte's island, Egmont island, Glocester island, 
 Prince William Henry's island, and Osnaburgh island. He also discovered 
 Otabeite, Howe island, and many others. Carteret added Sandwich island, 
 the Admiralty islands and Stephens island, to the stock of former discoveries. 
 
 Bougainville, a Frenchman, set sail from Nantz in November, 1766, and 
 returned by the Cape of Good Hope to tha port of St. Maloes in March, 
 1769. He discovered the Great Cyclades and the New Hebrides of 
 Cook. 
 
 '< The immortal Cook, to whom geography, and every science connected 
 with it, is so much indebted, sailed in the ship Endeavour, from Plymouth, 
 August 26th, 1763, and after a most satisfactory voyage, returned on the 12th 
 of June, 1771. We have not room to enumerate the great discoveries made 
 in this and his two other voyages. After having circumnavigated the globe, 
 and explored the utmost navigable limits of the ocean, he was cut off by the 
 savage natives of Owhyhee, oue of the Sandwich islands, Jan. 14, 1779. 
 
 M. J, F. G. de la Perouse went, in 1785, on a voyage of discovery, by 
 order of Louis XVI, of France : he bent his course to the north-western 
 coasts of America, which he explored from nearly 60 North Latitude to
 
 314 GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 island was not known till John Bermudas, a Spanish captadn, 
 arrived atit, in 1527. In 1528, Papua, or New Guinea^ was 
 discovered by a Spaniard, whom Cortes had sent from Ame- 
 rica, to explore the Spice islands. The hope of finding a 
 shorter course to the East Indies has occasioned the most pe- 
 rilous voyages to be undertaken. In 1553, Sir Hugh Wil- 
 loughby sailed from England to the nortli-east of Europe, in 
 search of this passage. He entered the White Sea, and 
 opened a commercial intercourse with Russia and Archangel, 
 but being prevented from prosecuting his voyage by the ice, he 
 attempted to winter in Lapland, where both he and most of 
 those who were with him, perished by the intensity of the 
 frost. Solomon's island was discovered by a Spanish captain, 
 Mendana, who sailed from Lima towards the west, in the 
 year 1575. 
 
 Martin Frobisher, who sailed from England in 1578, with 
 the view of obtaining a north-west passage to China, fell in 
 with West Greenland. To the same cause, we are indebted 
 for the knowledge of Davis' straits, Hudson's Bay, and Baf- 
 fin's-bay, which were discovered by captains whose names they 
 bear, in the years 1585, l6lO, and 1662. The Falkland islands, 
 * at the southern extremity of America, were discovered by 
 Sir Richard Hawkins, in 1594. In crossing the Pacific ocean, 
 Mendana de Neyra, a Spanish captain, fell in with the Mar- 
 quesas, Santa Cruz, and St. Bernardo. In l6l0, Le Maire 
 and Schouten sailed fromj the Texel, in search of the ideal 
 
 Montery-Bay in California, in about 37 N. L. From California Le pro- 
 ceeded to Macao, in China, to Manilla, and thence, throngh the si>a of 
 Japan, and alung the north-eastern coast of Tartary, and the islands in the 
 sea of Jcsso, to the harbour of St. Peter and St. Paul, in Kanitschatka. Of 
 these and other places he remitted at different times accounts to his goveni- 
 ment After this, the commander, his two ships, the Boiissole and the As- 
 trolabe, and all their crews, were unfortunately lost, but how or where has 
 never been discovered. 
 
 Captain George Vancouver's voyage of discovery to the North Pacific 
 Ocean, and round the ^lobe, was undertaken and performed in the years 
 1790, 1, 2, S, 4, and 5, in the Discovery, a sloop of war.
 
 DISCOVERIES. 315 
 
 southern continent^ and explored the strait, since called 
 Maire's strait, between the southern coast of Terra del Fuego 
 and Staten island ; and after the death of Maire, which hap- 
 pened very soon after they had passed the strait, his friend and 
 companion, Schouten, made many other discoveries, and return- 
 ed to Holland in l6l7. Batavia, New Holland, and the 
 Southern part of Van Diemen's Land, were discovered in 
 the year l6l6, by Dutch navigators. In 1642, the cele- 
 brated Abel Jansen Tasman, a Dutchman, sailed from Bata- 
 via, and during an absence of a year and ten months, he dis- 
 covered among other islands. New Zealand, and the Friendly 
 isles, and demonstrated that New Holland and New Zea- 
 land to be insular. The Carolines were first found out by the 
 Spaniards ; and New Britain and New Ireland, by our country- 
 man, Dampier. 
 
 Easter-island, and several others of less note in the Pacific 
 ocean, were discovered by Roggewin, a Dutch navigator, in 
 his course round the globe, in 1722. 
 
 The Pelew islands first excited the attention of the English 
 by the shipwreck of Captain Wilson on the coast, in 1783; 
 but they had been discovered long before by the Spaniards, by 
 whom they had been denominated the Pales islands, from the 
 abundance of tall palm-trees. 
 
 ,j%,,
 
 CHAP. XXI. 
 
 ON GEOGRAPHY, 
 
 Continued. 
 
 Lines and Circles on the globe Zones Longitude and Latitude Divi* 
 
 sious of tlie Globe Division of land of water. Europe Asia Africa 
 
 America Australasia Polynesia. 
 
 In studying geography, the pupil should have before him an 
 artificial globe, or good maps. On these he will observe 
 several lines and circles, of which the principal are as follow. 
 
 The Equator, which divides the earth equally into two 
 parts, north and south. This line is likewise called the 
 Equinoctial, because on the two days in each year, viz. in 
 March and September, on which the sun is in the Equator, the 
 length of tlie day and night is equal in all parts of the world. 
 
 The Ecliptic is thoxircle in the heavens, in which the sun 
 appears to move, and it is marked on the terrestrial globe, and 
 on maps, for the convenience of working problems. 
 
 The tropics are two lines drawn parallel to the equator, at 
 the points where the Ecliptic is at the greatest distance, north 
 and south, from the Equator, that is, at 23^ from that circle. 
 
 They derive their name from a Greek word, signifying to 
 turn, because when the sun by its apparent motion, has as 
 cended thus high in the heavens, he appears to turn back and 
 to descend. It must be observed, that the ascent and descent 
 refer to his meridian height, that is, to the height every day at
 
 CIRCLES OF THE GLOBE. SI? 
 
 twelve at noon. The sun is in the tropics on the 2 1st of Jutie 
 and the 22nd of December : on the former, he attains to his 
 greatest meridian height ; and will be found, if his progress be 
 vvatclied at intervals of two or three weeks, at the same hour 
 in the day, to be lower and lower in the heavens, till the 21st 
 of December, when it will again ascend. 
 
 The Polar circles are drawn at the distance of 23'i from 
 the poles. 
 
 Besides these circles, the surface of the earth has, by Geo- 
 graphers, been divided into five spaces, called zones, contained 
 between the circles which we have described. Thus between 
 the poles and polar circles, are the two frigid zones : between 
 these and the tropics, are two temperate zones ; and the space 
 included between the two tropics is called the torrid zone. 
 These all derive their names from the temperature experi- 
 enced in them. Formerly it was believed, that the temperate 
 zones were the only inhabitable parts of the globe ; but the 
 contrary has been long ascertained. Large nations, for in- 
 stance, are found to exist in the torrid zone, in the continents 
 of Africa, Asia, and America, independently of those who in- 
 habit the almost innumerable islands in the Indian, Pacific, 
 and Atlantic oceans, that are included in the torrid zone. 
 Some parts of the north frigid zone, are likewise- known to 
 be inhabited, as Spitzbergen, Greenland, &c. 
 
 Longitude and Latitude are terms perpetually occurring in 
 the science of Geography, and should be well understood. 
 Longitude is the distance of any place from a given spot, ge- 
 nerally the capital of the country, measured east or west from 
 that capital, thus we say Lisbon 9^ 4' W. L. that is, nine de- 
 grees, four minutes west of London, and Pekin, in China, is 
 116 22' east of London. Bu^ Paris being 2 25' east of 
 London, the Geographers of that city would say, the longi- 
 tude of Lisbon was 11 29" vvest, and that of Pekin, 113 57' 
 cast J and so of any other places. 
 
 Latitude is the distance north or south from the Equator : 
 thus London is 51 31' north latitude, and the island of
 
 318 GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 St. Helena is 15' 15' south latitude; The line from which 
 the latitude of places is measured being invariable, geographers 
 of all nations refer to the same place, when speaking of any 
 given degree of latitude, but the degrees of longitude will vary 
 according to the place fixed on, as a boundary from which tlie 
 measures commence. 
 
 Tlie terms Longitude and Latitude are of ancient origin, 
 meaning length and breadth ; the former was probably so de- 
 nominated and applied to the direction east and west, because 
 more of the earth was known from the Straits of Gibraltar, 
 to the Euphrates or Indus, than from the coast of Barbary to 
 the Baltic sea, that is, from the south to the north. Even 
 now the term length is usually applied to the greater, and 
 breadth to the smaller dimension of a body or space. The 
 ancients measured their longitude from Ferro, one of the 
 Canary islands, west of the coast of Africa, and which is 1 8 6' 
 west longitude of London. This meridian, or circle of longi- 
 tude, is even now referred to in some works of science, as that 
 from which the degrees are reckoned. 
 
 The map of the world, whether in piano or on a globe, is 
 divided into two hemispheres, the one, or eastern hemisphere, 
 contains the continents of Europe, Asia, and Africa, called 
 also the .Old World, as having been partially known to the 
 ancients : the other, or western hemisphere, contains the two 
 continents of North and South America, denominated the 
 New World, having been discovered by Columbus, about the 
 year 1493. 
 
 Till within a very few years, it has been customary to deno- 
 minate Europe, Asia, Africa, and the two Americas as the 
 four quarters of the world. This division was not more ab- 
 surd than disproportionate, tlie relative extent of these quarters 
 as they have been called, bemg nearly as the numbers 1 , 4, 5, 
 and 7 : that is, Asia is about four times larger than Europe, 
 Africa five times, and America seven times. 
 
 Modem geographers, among whom is Mr. Pinkerton, in- 
 clude the land of our globe under six great divisions, viz. Eu-
 
 OF THE OCEAN. 319 
 
 rope, Asia, Africa, and America, with the two recent deno- 
 minations of Australasia and Polynesia : of the latter terms, 
 the first is applied to New Holland and the adjacent isles ; 
 the second includes the numerous islands situated in the Paci- 
 fic ocean, between Australasia and America. 
 
 The waters of the ocean occupy at least two thirds of the 
 earth's surface. The depth of the ocean, is in many parts too 
 great to be ascertained by any means that have been devised 
 for the purpose, but the mean depth of the whole has been 
 calculated at about 220 fathoms. The facts, however, on 
 which this estimate has been made, are not sufficiently nume- 
 rous to justify us in speaking upon the subject with any de- 
 gree of certainty. Various ingenious hypotheses have been 
 invented, to account for the saltness of the ocean, but the true 
 theory is probably still enveloped in darkness. The greatest 
 degree of saltness is in the waters between the tropics, and it 
 gradually diminishes towards the poles. 
 
 The ocean is divided by geographers into various parts, 
 which are limited by real or imaginary boundaries. Of these, 
 the largest is (1.) the Pacific ocean, sometimes called the 
 Great South Sea, which is situated between the eastern coasts 
 of Asia, and the western borders of America. It contains a 
 vast multitude of islands, which appear like the summits of 
 immense mountains emerging from the deep : this ocean is 
 divided by the Equator, into the North and South Pacific : and 
 (2.) the Atlantic ocean, which separates Europe and Africa 
 from America, and it derives its name from the mountains of 
 Atlas, situated in the north-west of Africa. The northern, or 
 frozen ocean surrounds the north pole, and is bounded to- 
 wards the south by the northern limits of Europe, Asia, and 
 America, with the Atlantic Ocean and Beering's Strait, by 
 which last a communication is formed between it and the 
 Pacific Ocean. The South Polar Sea encompasses the south 
 pole in a similar manner, and is a continuation of the Atlan- 
 tic, Pacific, and Indian oceans. The Indian Ocean washes 
 
 m-
 
 320 GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 the eastern coasts of Africa, the southern shores of Asia, and 
 forms the western boundary of Ne>v Holland. 
 
 Tliere is no doubt, from the experience of past ages, as 
 recorded in well-authenticated histories, that the waters are 
 constantly encroaching upon the land in some places, and re- 
 ceding from it in others, A considerable part of the eastern 
 coast of Great Britain appears, at some remote period, to 
 have been under the sea ; and, in the reign of Henry I. the 
 estates of the Earl Goodwin were overflowed by the sea, and 
 formed what are now denominated the Goodwin Sands. It 
 is not improbable that the island of Sicily was once united to 
 Italy, and our island, with France. 
 
 EUROPE. 
 
 Europe is bounded on the north by the Frozen Ocean, 
 on the west by the Atlantic, on the south by the Mediterra- 
 nean, and on the east it is divided from Asia by an imaginary 
 line drawn through the Archipelago, the Black Sea, the Sea of 
 Azoph, continued along the rivers Don and Wolga, and thence 
 to the UraHan mountains, from which it proceeds to the north 
 sea under Nova Zembla. Within these limits are several 
 kingdoms, as Norway, Sweden, Denmark, and Russia, in the 
 north ; then follow Prussia, Germany, Austria, and Turkey in 
 Europe, Italy, and Switzerland ; on the westerly side there are 
 Holland, France, Portugal, and Spain. Between Switzerland 
 and Italy, is the city of Geneva. The lower part of Italy is 
 called the kingdom of Naples. At the top, to the west, is 
 Genoa, above this, is Piedmont, in which is Turin, formerly 
 the capital of the king of Sardinia's dominions. At the top 
 of Italy, on the east, is Venice, from which the gulf of Ve- 
 nice, that separates Italy from Turkey in Europe, takes its 
 Dame. Above the gulf of Venice is the Tyrol, Cariuthia, 
 Istria, and Cumiola ; and above Turkey in Europe are the do- 
 minions of the emperor of Austria, Hungary, and Bohemia. 
 The lower part of Turkey in Europe is called Romclia ; this
 
 Was anciently the celebrated Greece, of which the lowest 
 part, called the Morea, was the Peloponnesus. To the east 
 of Germany, above Hungary, was formerly situated the king* 
 dom of Poland, which the then sovereigns of Russia and Ger- 
 many, with the king of Prussia, seized, and wickedly divided 
 among themselves. That part of Russia which is contained 
 between the Black Sea and the Sea of Azoph, is called the 
 Crimea, or Little Tartary. To the north of Norway, Sweden, 
 and Russia, is Lapland, divided into Danish, Swedish, and 
 Russian Lapland, and between the gulfs of Bothnia and Fin- 
 land, is that large tract of country denominated Finland. 
 Norway has long been subject to the crown of Denmark ; 
 but, by a late treaty, it is to pass under the government of 
 Sweden. Between the island of Zealand and the coast of 
 Sweden, is the Sound, where a toll is claimed by the king of 
 Denmark, from all ships which pass through it. 
 
 The chief of the European islands are Great Britain and 
 Ireland, whose decided pre-eminence among the .nations of 
 the world, was never so signally displayed as within the last 
 five or six years. Above these islands is Iceland ; and, about 
 midway between Europe and America, off the coast of Por- 
 tugal, are the Azores, the most remote of the European 
 islands. In the Mediterranean, off the coast of Spain, are 
 Yvica, Majorca, and Minorca. Under Genoa are Corsica 
 and Sardinia. At the foot of Sicily is the celebrated island 
 of Malta. To these may be added to the east, Candia and Cy 
 prus. Zealand is the principal island in the Baltic, in which 
 is Copenhagen, the capital of Denmark. 
 
 ASIA. 
 
 Asia is bounded on the north by the Arctic ocean, on the 
 east by the Pacific, on the south by the Indian ocean, and on 
 the west by Europe, the Mediterranean and Red Sea : by 
 the latter it is separated from Africa. 
 
 Asiatic Turkey comprizes several states which have obtain- 
 ed conspicuous places in the ancient history of the world 5 
 
 VOL. 1. * Y *
 
 322 GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 among these are Asia Minor, Syria, Mesopotamia, Armenia, 
 Mingrelia. It is now divided into provinces, Natolia, or An- 
 atolia, occupies the western part of Lesser Asia, and is fol- 
 lowed on the south-east by Caramania. East of this is Roum, 
 extending from the north-east shore of the Mediterranean to 
 tlie southern coast of the Black Sea. Syria is the name still 
 applied to a district on the eastern limits of the Mediterranean 
 Sea ; and Armenia, on the south-east extremity of the Black 
 Sea, retains its ancient appellation. Algezira borders on the 
 Arabian desert, and occupies the greatest part of the ancient 
 Mesopotamia, situated between the Euphrates and Tigris. 
 
 To the south of Asiatic Turkey, and between the Arabian 
 or Red Sea, and Persian Gqlph, is Arabia, and on the East is 
 Persia, below which is Hindostan, the ancient empire of the 
 Great Mogul, lying between the rivers Indus and Ganges. 
 In this part of Asia are the principal British and European 
 settlements. On the west of Hindostan is the British settle- 
 ment of Bombay, an island a little below the gulph of Cam- 
 bay. Lower down on the western side is the coast of Mala- 
 bar, and on the eastern, is the coast of Coromandel. On 
 the coast of Malabar is the Mysore, and on the opposite is 
 the Camatic. The southern point of Hindostan, is called 
 Cape Comorin. On the Coromandel coast is Pondicherry, 
 long famous as the capital of the French settlements in the 
 East Indies, but now possessed by the British, who are, in 
 fact, the masters of India Proper. Above Pondicherry is 
 Madras, and, at the mouth of the river Gauges is Bengal, of 
 which the capital is Calcutta, the principal of the British set- 
 tlements in India. South of Bengal is Orissa, and, to the 
 north-west of it, is Bahar. Above Bahar is Oude, and to the 
 north of Oude is Delhi ; below Delhi is Agra. Eastward of 
 the Ganges is the kingdom of Pegu, which, with Ava, consti- 
 tutes the Birman empire. To the south of Pegu is Siam, 
 and on the west of tlie gulph of Siam is Malaya, and on the 
 east of the same gulph is Cambodia. On the north-east of 
 this is Cochin-China, and more north is Tonquio. China
 
 AFRICA. 323 
 
 extends from the gulph of Tonquiu to the Yelled Sea. West 
 of Cl)ina is Thibet. North and north-west of China, is the 
 region of Chinese, or Mogul Tartary. Still westward, to- 
 wards the Caspian, is Calmuc and Usbec Tartary, and the 
 space between the Black and Caspian Seas, is Russian Tar- 
 tary. The whole of the upper part of Asia, beyond the pro- 
 vinces already described, is Siberia. Quite in the north-east, 
 is Kamtschatka. 
 
 The principal Asiatic islands, are, Ceylon, to the south- 
 east of Cape Comorin. Off the promontory of Malacca, 
 are the Sunnatran or Sunda Isles. East of Sumatra, and 
 above Java, is the large island of Borneo, and north of Bor- 
 neo, are the Philippines, called also the Manillas. East of 
 Borneo, are the Celebezian Isles ; north-east of the Celebes, 
 are the Molucca or Banda Isles. East of these is New Gui- 
 nea. Off the coast of China, lies the island of Hainan : to 
 the east of Canton, is the island of Formosa ; and, north of the 
 coast of China, are the islands of Japan. 
 
 AFRICA. 
 
 Africa is an immense peninsula, connected with Asia by 
 the isthmus of Suez, bounded on the north by the Mediterra- 
 nean, which separates it from Europe, on the East by the 
 above named isthmus, the Red Sea, and the Indian ocean, 
 by which it is divided from Asia: its southern part runs into the 
 Southern ocean, and the Atlantic flows on its western shores. 
 It is probably more than thrice as large as Europe, but in the 
 estimation of the politician and philosopher it is of vastly less 
 importance than any of the other three grand divisions of the 
 globe, nevertheless, if its relative situation be examined, it is 
 better adapted to commerce than any other quarter of the 
 globe. Its north coast, for a thousand miles, being opposite 
 to, and at no great distance from Europe. From Asia it is 
 separated only by the Red or Arabian Sea : and its western 
 coast, for two thousand miles, lies opposite to America, l^he 
 people, however, are ignorant, and where there is little or no 
 
 y O '
 
 SH GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 knowledge, the great spring to action is wanting, and from 
 such a country, nothing good can be expected or hoped for. 
 
 In Africa, the first kingdom on the western side below the 
 straits of Gibraltar, is Fez; proceeding eastward is Algiers, 
 then Tunis, and Tripoli, beyond which is Barca, and still 
 more eastward is Egypt. The coast from Fez to Tripoli in- 
 clusive, is called the Barbary coast, of which the governments 
 are military, under a governor called a Dey or Bey, who is 
 said to be subject to the Grand Signior; but who, in fact, is 
 really independent, except on his own troops. 
 
 South of the Barbary coast is the Sahara, an immense and 
 unexplored Desert ; and below this, reaching from a little 
 above Cape de Verde to the coast of Guinea, is the coast of 
 Senegambia. On the south of this is the settlement of Sierra 
 Leone, below which is the coast of Guinea, divided into the 
 Grain, the Ivory, and Gold coasts. Below Guinea are the 
 Portuguese settlements of Congo, Loango, and Angola. The 
 southern point of Africa is called the Cape of Good Hope. 
 Here is Caffraria, the country of the Hottentots. Ascending 
 from the Cape along the eastern side of Africa, are the coasts 
 of Natal, Sabia, Sofala, Mozambique, Querimba, Zanguebar, 
 Azania, and Ajan. On the north point of Ajan, is Cape 
 Guardana, west of which are the straits of Babelniandel, 
 which lead into the Red or Arabian Sea. West of this sea lu 
 the kingdom of Abyssinia, above which is Nubja, comprizing 
 Sennaar and Dongola, and, still higher up, is the long and far- 
 famed Egypt. The remainder of Africa is but little known, 
 notwithstanding the attempts that have been made to explore 
 the country. 
 
 The islands to be enumerated with this quarter of the globe 
 are the Madeiras. The Canaries, or Fortunate Islands, of 
 which seven are inhabited. The chief of these is Tenerifte, 
 celebrated for its mountain called the Peak of Teneriffe, an 
 extinct volcano, twelve thousand feet above the level of iUc 
 sea. South of the Canaries, are the ten Cape de Verde islands, 
 f which St. Jago is the chief. In the gulph of Guinea, are
 
 AMERICA. 325 
 
 Prince's and St. Thomas's Islands. South of the latter is tlie 
 island Annabon, far to the west of which are St. Matthew 
 and Ascension islands; and, much to the south of St. Matthew, 
 is the island of St. Helena. Off the coast of Mozambique is 
 the island of Madagascar, one of the largest in the world, 
 to the East of which are the islands of St. Mauritius and 
 Bourbon. 
 
 AMERICA. 
 
 Amebica, though usually denominated a quarter of the 
 world, is, more properly speaking, a hemisphere, discovered 
 as we have seen, by the immortal Columbus. On the 1 1 th 
 of October, 1492, this great man perceived a light in one of 
 the Bahama islands, on which he landed the following morn- 
 ing, and gave it the name of San Salvador, though by the 
 natives it was called Guanahani. Soon after, he landed at 
 Cuba, and on the 6th of December, he arrived at the island of 
 Hispaniola, since called St. Domingo. It was not till some 
 years after, that he discovered the main land of South America ; 
 previously to which, North America had been visited by Gio- 
 vanni Cabot, a Venetian, employed by Henry VII. of Eng- 
 land. 
 
 Among the followers of Columbus, was Amerigo Vespucci, 
 a Florentine, who, on his return, wrote a narrative of his ad- 
 venturesr, with so much art as to make it appear, that he had 
 the glory of having first discovered the continent of the New 
 World. Amerigo's account was drawn up with elegance : it 
 contained an amusing history of the voyage, and as it was the 
 first description that was published, it circulated with amazing 
 rapidity, and was read with admiration. The country of 
 which Amerigo was supposed to be the discoverer, came 
 gradually to be called by his name, and time has perpetuated 
 the error. Notwithstanding attempts have been made to sub- 
 stitute the name of Columbia for that of America, the 
 latter is almost universally adopted as the designation of this 
 newly discovered hemisphere. Thus the bold pretensions of
 
 3'26 GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 a fortunate adventurer and impostor, have robbed the disco- 
 verer of tlie New World, of a distinction that belonged to 
 him. The name of Amerigo has supplanted that of Colum- 
 bus, and mankind may in vain regret an act of injustice, 
 which, having received the sanction of ages, it is now too late 
 to redress. 
 
 North America, with which we shall begin, is bounded on 
 the east by the Atlantic, on the west by the great Pacific 
 ocean, on the south by the isthmus of Panama, on the* north, 
 above Hudson's Bay, its boundaries are unknown. Travellers 
 have, however, penetrated far into the Arctic circle. Davis's 
 Strait, which leads into Baffin's Bay, may be said to separate 
 North America from Greenland, which has been divided into 
 West or New Greenland, and East or Old Greenland. A 
 north-west passage, in these high latitudes, has been frequently 
 attempted, but without success, and the project seems now 
 to be completely abandoned. 
 
 The British possessions in North America, lie above lakes 
 Ontario, Erie, Huron, Michigan, and Superior, which dis- 
 charge themselves, through the river St. Lawrence, into the 
 Atlantic ocean. At the mouth of St. Lawrence, and on the 
 eastern side, is New Brunswick, and still farther east is Nova 
 Scotia, almost surrounded by the Atlantic, but the part which 
 separates this peninsula from New Brunswick, is called Fundy 
 Bay, remarkable for its high and rapid tides, which frequently 
 rise fifty or sixty feet in height. 
 
 The country, lying north-east of St. Lawrence, is called 
 Lower Canada, that which is to the north of the lakes just enu- 
 merated, is Upper Canada. Labrador, or New Britain, is a 
 very extensive tract of coimtry north of Lower Canada, be- 
 tween Hudson's Bay and Davis's Straits. On the southern 
 coast of Hudson's Bay, is New South Wales, and on the 
 west, is New North Wales. The British territories are the 
 two Canadas, Labrador, New Brunswick and Nova Scptia, 
 besides the islands of Newfoundland, Cape Bveton and St. 
 Johu. The metropolis of the British American possessions
 
 AMERICA. 327 
 
 is Quebec, situated on the river St. Lawrence : next to this is 
 Montreal in the Lower, and York, the seat of government 
 of the Upper Canada. 
 
 South of the iiver St. Lawrence and the lakes, are the 
 United States of America, formerly provinces of Great Britain, 
 but which, in 1782, after a seven years' war, obtained their 
 independence. There were at first only thirteen of these con- 
 federated provinces, but they are now divided into seventeen ; 
 besides seven territorial governments. In books of Geography 
 they are frequently arranged according to their situation, as 
 the northern and southern, and the middle between the other 
 two ; but if they are enumerated according to their population, 
 the following will be the order, as given in the late census : 
 
 Provinces. Population. 
 
 Virginia 965,079 
 
 New York 959,220 
 
 Pennsylvania 810,163 
 Massachusets ) 
 
 and the Main 5 "^00,745 
 
 North Carolina 563,526 
 
 South Carolina 414,935 
 
 Kentucky 406,511 
 
 Maryland 380,546 
 
 The territorial governments are, 
 
 Orleans 76,556 
 
 Mississippi 40,352 
 
 Indiana 24,520 
 
 Columbia - 24,023 
 
 It should be noticed that Louisiana is a subject still in dis- 
 pute between Spain and America. The remainder of North 
 America belongs to Spain, consisting of East and West Flo- 
 rida, New Mexico, and, still more westward, California. To 
 the south of these is Mexico, or New Spain, divided into va- 
 rious provinces, at the lower part of which is Honduras, ce- 
 lebrated for its logwood, and, still more southward, if Panama, 
 giving name to the isthmus which separates Nortli from South 
 
 Provinces. 
 
 PopitUaion. 
 
 Connecticut 
 
 261,942 
 
 Tennassee 
 
 261,727 
 
 Georgia 
 
 252,433 
 
 New Jersey 
 
 245,562 
 
 Ohio 
 
 230,760 
 
 Vermont 
 
 217,913 
 
 New Hampshire 
 
 214,412 
 
 Rhode Island 
 
 76,931 
 
 Delaware 
 
 72,674 
 
 Louisiana 
 
 20,845 
 
 Illinois 
 
 12,282 
 
 Michigan 
 
 4,762
 
 328 GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 America. The western parts of North America are but little 
 
 known. 
 
 We have already noticed the large and important island of 
 Newfoundland : in the mid-way between thb and the West 
 Indies, are the Bermudas or Sommer's Islands. Off the 
 coast of East Florida lie the Bahamas, and below are Cuba, 
 Hispaniola, and Jamaica. Porto-Rico is east of Hispaniola, 
 and to. the south-west of this, are llie Caribbee Islands, of 
 which the chief are BarbaBoes, Martinique, and Guadaloupe. 
 Of the Caiibbees, those south of 15 N. Lat. are called 
 Windward islands: those more northerly, are denominated 
 Leeward islands. 
 
 South America requires a very short description. The 
 more northerly part is called the Spanish Main : east of the 
 isthmus of Panama is the goN'ernment of the Carraccas, to 
 the east of which is Guiana, divided among the Spaniards, 
 French, and Portuguese : on the west is New Granada. 
 South-east of these is the immense province of Brasil, belong- 
 ing to the Portuguese, at the back of which is Paraquay, at- 
 tached to Spain. Below is Buenos Ayres, and below this, 
 in the central parts of Soutli America, are the Pampas, or 
 immense plains between the Eastern coast and the Andes. 
 At the most southern parts of the continent is Patagonia, on 
 the western side above this is Chili. Above this is Peru, 
 and above this is Granada, reaching up to the Isthmus of 
 Darien. 
 
 Tlie islands of South America, in the Pacific ocean, are 
 the Gallipagoes, through which the Equator runs. Off" the 
 coast of Chili, is the island of Juan Fernandez. At the bot- 
 tom of Chili, is the island of Chiloe. At the extremity of 
 South America is a collection of small islands, called Terra 
 del Fuego, or land of fire, from the volcanoes there. The 
 extreme southern point of these is called Cape Hofn. Terra 
 del Fuego is separated from South America, by the straits of 
 Magellaiift North-east of these are the Falkland isles. 
 
 Australasia, is a name employed by some modem geo-
 
 POLYNESIA. 329 
 
 graphers of eminence, to denote the territory of New Hol- 
 land, and some other lai^e islands situated on the south-east of 
 the great Asiatic continent. This part of the globe includes, 
 (1.) New Holland and the adjacent isles. (2.) Van Die- 
 men's Land. (3.) Papua, or New Guinea. (4.) New Bri- 
 tain, New Ireland, and Solomon's Isles. (5.) New Caledo- 
 nia, and tl>e New Hebrides, and (d.) New Zealand. 
 
 Polynesia. The islands said to be included in this geo- 
 graphical division, are (1.) The Pelew Isles. (2.) The La- 
 drones. (3.) The Carolines. (4) The Sandwich Isles. (5.) 
 The Marquesas. (6.) The Society Isles. (7.) The Friendly 
 Isles,
 
 CHAP. XXII. 
 
 GEOGRAPHY, 
 
 Continued. 
 
 Ancient Geography Europe Asia Africa. Directions for stadying 
 Geography. 
 
 We shall now give a brief sketch of ancient geography, 
 which will be useful, as well in reading the classics, as to 
 those who study ancient history. This will connect the mo- 
 dem with the ancient state of the world, and the ready will 
 find his advantage in having before him a modern atlas, with 
 D'Anville's maps of Ancient Geography, or a work entitled 
 " Atlas Classica," published several years since, by Wilkinson 
 of London. We shall et out with the southern part of 
 
 EUROPE. 
 HisPANiA, which answers to our Spain and Portugal, 
 was divided into Citerior and Ulterior. The citerior, or 
 nearer, was afterwards called Tarraconensb, and extended 
 from the Pyrenees to the mouth of the Douro, comprehending 
 all the north of Spain, together with the south, as far as a 
 line drawn below Carthago Nova, or Carthagena, and con- 
 tinued obhquely to the Douro, above Salmantica, now Sala- 
 manca. Hispania Ulterior was divided into Boetica, situated
 
 ANCIENT GEOGRAPHY. 331 
 
 between the river Anas, or Guadiana, and Hispania Citerior ; 
 and Lusitania, which corresponds nearly to our Portugal. 
 
 Hispania was sometimes denominated Iberia, from the 
 river Iberus, Ebro ; and Hesperia, from its westerly situation. 
 At the ancient Fretum Herculeum stood Calpe, or Gibraltar, 
 one of the pillars of Hercules ; the other was at Abila, on 
 the African coast. These pillars were supposed to have been 
 erected by Hercules, as the boundaries of the western world. 
 The name Gibraltar, is derived from Gebel Tarik, the 
 mountain of Tarik, a Moorish General, who first led the 
 Moors into Spain. The Junonis promontorium on the At- 
 lantic side of the straits, is the modern Trafalgar, which is 
 Gades, now Cadiz. The modern Cape St. Vincent was 
 denominated the Sacrum promontorium, because the aucients 
 thought that this was the place, at which the Sun plunged his 
 chariot into the sea. The isles of Majorca and Minorca, 
 were the insulae Baleares of the Romans, and the GymnesiaB 
 of the Greeks. 
 
 Gallia was much more extensive than modern France, 
 as it included parts of the United Provinces, the Netherlands, 
 Switzerland, and Italy to the west of the Alps. It was 
 originally divided among three great nations, viz. the Celtae, 
 the Belgae, and the Aquitani. The Celtae extended from the 
 Sequana or Seine to the Garumna or Garonne : the Belgae 
 lay above the Celtae, between the Seine and the Lower Rhine ; 
 and were intermixed with several of the Germanic tribes: 
 the Aquitanse lay between the Garonne and the Pyrenees, 
 and were intermixed with the Spanish tribes. 
 
 About 126 years B.C. the Romans, at the request of the 
 people of Marseilles, entered Gallia, and obtained possession 
 of a district called Provincia, anciently called Gallia Brac- 
 cata, from the braccae, or breeches, worn by the inhabitants, 
 hence the second division of Gallia consisted of Belgica, 
 "Celtica, Aquitania, and Provincia. In the year 27, B.C. 
 Augustus made a new distribution of Gallia into the provinces, 
 Aquitania, Belgica, Lugdunensis atid Narbonensis.
 
 332 GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 Britannia included England, Scotland, the Orkney, 
 Shetland and Hebrides islands; also the isles of Man, An- 
 glesea, Wight, and Thanet. But Britannia and Albion, 
 were often especially applied to England and Scotland. Hi- 
 BERNiA, sometimes denominated Britannia Minor, Scotia 
 and Irne, was the modern Ireland. Vectis was the isle of 
 Wight, and the modern Scilly islands were denominated the 
 Cassiterides ; Mona Taciti was the isle of Anglesea, and Mona 
 Caesaris, the isle of Man. 
 
 Germania included part of the United Provinces, Den- 
 mark, or the Cimbrica Chersonesus of the ancients, Ger- 
 many as far South as the Danube, including Bohemia, part 
 of Prussia, Poland, to the West of the Vistula, and that part 
 of Hungary contained between the Danube, the Morava, and 
 the Gran. The remainder of Europe, East of Germania, and 
 North of the Danube, went under the generic name of Sarmatia, 
 the inhabitants being called Sarmatas and Sauromatse. In the 
 same manner, the North of Asia, beyond the Euxine and Cas- 
 pian seas, was known by the generic name of Scythia. In ancient 
 Germany was an immense forest, called Hercynia Sylva, the 
 whole extent of which was unknown ; Caesar was nine days in 
 crossing it, and a longitudinal journey of sixty days, had been 
 made without coming to its boundary. It contained part of 
 Switzerland and Transylvania. 
 
 Scandinavia included Norway, Sweden, and Lapland. 
 
 Rhcetia included the country of the Grisons, part of 
 the circle of Swabia, the greatest portion of Bavaria, and 
 part of the circle of Austria. 
 
 NoRicuM included that portion of the circle of Bavaria, 
 which is east of the right branch of the Inn, and that part of 
 tbe circle of Austria, which is south of the Danube, west of 
 Vienna, north of the Save, and to the east of Wessenfels situate 
 on the Save, near it* source. Noricum once an independent 
 government was reduced, during the reign of Augustus, tfc 
 the subjection of the Romans. 
 
 *annoniA; situated to the east of NoricuiD; cousisted of
 
 ANCIENT GEOGRAPHY. 335 
 
 llie territory included within the Drave and Danube, till 
 their junction near Essek, and part of Croatia, Sclavonia, a 
 small portion of Bosnia and Servia, and the eastern part of 
 the circle of Austria. Pannonia was first reduced to a Roman 
 province by Tiberius, after which it was divided into Supe- 
 rior and Inferior, the former occupying part of Hungary, the 
 latter, Sclavonia. I Pannonia Superior was Vindebona, now 
 Vienna ; Acincum, now Buda, opposite to which was Pest. 
 In Pannonia Inferior, between the Save and Drave, was 
 Sirmium. 
 
 Illyricum included the south-eastern part of the circle 
 of Austria, part of Croatia, Dalmatia, the greater part of 
 Bosnia, and Albanio north of Alesse. This country became 
 a Roman province in the reign of Augustus, and the divisions 
 were denominated Liburnia and Dalmatia. 
 
 Italia, so called from Italus, a prince of the country, 
 included the whole extent of modern Italy, excepting that part 
 of it which is included within the Alps, and which made one 
 of the eastern boundaries of Gallia. This country was also 
 called Hesperia by the Greeks, as being west of Greece; 
 Ausonia, from a people of the country ; CEnotria, from a 
 prince named CEnotrus, the son of Lycaon ; and it was called 
 Saturnia, from its being supposed the residence of Saturn, 
 after his expulsion from heaven by Jupiter. It was anciently 
 divided into Gallia, Cisalpina, or Gaul on this side the Alps, 
 and Gallia Propria ; after this the southern part of Italia was 
 denominated Graecia Magna, from the Grecian colonies which 
 it contained, viz. Apulia, Calabria, Lucania, Brutium, &c. 
 
 SiciLiA, Corsica and Sardinia, islands in the Medi- 
 terranean sea, attached to Italia, retain their ancient names. 
 
 GRECiAis that part of Turkey in Europe, which is bound- 
 ed on the west by the Gulf of Venice [and the Grecian Sea ; 
 on the south by the Mediterranean, and on the east by the 
 Archipelago. It was divided into Macedonia on the north, 
 Graecia in the middle, and Peloponnesus, or island of Pelops, 
 on the south. The modern name for the Peloponnesus is
 
 534 GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 Morea, from the mulberry trees that grow there, having been 
 
 introduced for supplying silkworms with food. 
 
 Thracia included that part of Turkey in Europe, between 
 the Black Sea, and the mountains Haeini and Rhodopes. 
 This country was conquered by the Romans during the reign 
 of Claudius, and toward the end of the third century of the 
 Christian aera, Thracia was divided into four provinces ; 
 Europa, Haemimontus, Rhodope and Thracia. 
 
 Mo ESI A comprehended that part of Turkey, which in- 
 cluded Bulgaria and Servia, deducting that part of it which 
 belongs to Pannouia, and part of Romania. The extent of 
 Moesia along the Ister, was divided into Moesia Superior and 
 Inferior. 
 
 Da CI A included the district of Bessarabia, Moldavia, 
 Wallachia, Transylvania, Upper Hungary, and part of Lower 
 Hungary. 
 
 Sarmatia Europ^a, comprehended Prussia and Po- 
 land, to the east of the Vistula ; Courland, Lithuania, Crimaca, 
 and Russia in Europe. 
 
 ASLV. 
 
 Asia Minor, a term never used by the ancients, com- 
 prizes the provinces between the Euxinc and Mediterranean 
 seas, and is now called Anatolia. Along the shores of the 
 Euxine and the Propontis, is Bithynia, next to which is 
 Paphlagonia, and on the east of this is Pontus. South of the 
 Propontis is Mysia, and, still more southerly, are Lydia, Caria, 
 and Lycia. South of the Hellespont, which leads from the 
 Propontb to the Archipelago, is Troja or Troas, the scene of 
 Homer's Iliad. North-east of Lycia is Pamphylia, Pisidia, 
 and Phrygia, and east of Phrygia is Cappadocia. Cilicia and 
 Isauria are on the south, the latter bordering on the Medi- 
 terranean. 
 
 Syria is below Cilicia, not far from the eastern coast of 
 the Mediterranean ; the coast itself is called Phoenicia, south 
 of which is Palestioa^ or th<; Holy Ltand, The northern part of
 
 # 
 
 ANCIENT GEOGRAPHY. 335' 
 
 Palestiiia was Galilaea, the middle, Samaria, and the lower or 
 southern part, Judsea. Below Judaea, at the top of the Sinus 
 Arabicus was Arabia Petraea, or Stony Arabia, lower down 
 was Arabia Felix, or the Fruitful, and the rest of the plain be- 
 tween the Arabian and Persian gulphs was Arabia Deserta. 
 East of Arabia, near the mouth of the Euphrates, at the top 
 of the Persian gulph, is Chaldea, and, above it, Babylonia. 
 Mesopotamia is situated between the rivers Euphrates and 
 Tigris : on the east of the Tigris is Assyria, and still more 
 easterly is Media, to the south of which is Persia. North of 
 Mesopotamia is Armenia, above which, on the eastern coast of 
 the Euxine, was Colchis, between this and the Caspian, were 
 Iberia and Albania. Above was Sarmatia Asiatica. East of 
 Persia was Caramania, and south of this latter was Gedrosia, 
 which reaches almost to the Indus. The country between the 
 Indus and the Ganges, was India intra Gangem, and that 
 east of the Ganges, was India extra Gangem : south-east of 
 which were tlie Sjnae, Cochin China. East of Media was 
 Aria and Bactriana : north of Media at the southern extre- 
 mity of the Caspian, were Hircania and Parthia, and north of 
 Hircania were the Chorasmii, to the north-east of whom were 
 the Massagetae. All the country to the North was called 
 Scythia, divided into Scythia intra Imaum, or Scythia within 
 the mountain Imaus, and Scythia extra Imaum. North-east 
 was Serica, which a|^roached to the north-west of China. 
 
 AFRICA. 
 
 Africa was called Libya by the Greek and Roman poets, 
 the name which moderns give to the whole continent being 
 generally confined to a particular province now denominated 
 Tunis. Little was known of this quarter of the globe except- 
 ing the parts adjacent to the coast of the Mediterranean. 
 The first province of Africa on the western side below the 
 Fretum Gaditanum, was Mauritania, now Morocco and Fez : 
 east of it was Numidia, now Algiers, and east of Numidia was 
 Africa Propria, nQvr denomioated Tunis, between this and
 
 S36 GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 Tripolis were the Syrtes, minor aiid major, two dangerous 
 quicksands. East of the Syrtis major, was Cyrenaica, now 
 Barca. Proceeding still eastward, we come to the mouths of 
 the Nile and Egypt, divided into the Inferior and Superior/ 
 the former or Lower Egypt, on the coast, the latter or Upper 
 Egypt in the interior of the continent. Below Cyrenaica was 
 Libya properly so called ; below Eg}pt was Ethiopia. 
 
 As a course of general study in the science of Geography, 
 we have no hesitation in saying, that the pupil should begin 
 with Modem Geography ; and, if he is not satisfied with the 
 sketch given in the preceding chapters, and wish to treasure 
 up in his mind the leading facts necessary to be known, he 
 may commit them to memory by means of Goldsmith's 
 " Easy Grammar of Geography." The maps and questions 
 for examinations will afford him much aid ; but he should, by 
 all means, if the price is not an object to him, obtain maps on 
 a larger scale, and which may have higher claims to ac- 
 curacy than can be expected in a work of that form. " Geo- 
 graphy for Children" has been much used ; and in tlie later 
 editions, the facts may be depended on. Its chief merit is, 
 that it is adapted to save trouble to the teacher, who will 
 have nothing more to do in using the work, than to ask his 
 pupils the questions, and the answers regularly follow. To a 
 person who performs the duty of a selijiinstructor, this plan 
 does not seem so good as that of the work before-mentioned. 
 
 Turner's Geography has gone through many editions : it is 
 a small volume, consisting of a series of letters, written with 
 neatness, accuracy, and spirit. These will, by many persons, 
 be preferred to works drawn up in a didactic style. The 
 letters include a considerable portion of historical knowledge, 
 well adapted to learners ; and the questions formed upon each 
 letter, and also on the maps, render the work of much value 
 as an introduction to geography. The maps are, however, too, 
 small for the purpose ; but the questions will apply to otiier 
 on a larger scale, and which pos^iess a higher authority'.
 
 METHOD OF STUDYING GEOGRAPHY. 33? 
 From these, or any of them, or of others of the same kind, 
 the student may proceed to Pinkerton^s Modern Geography, 
 in three volumes, 4to. of which the plan is as follows : the 
 author Jirst gives the historical, or progressive geography of 
 each country : secondly, its political state, including most of 
 the topics which are commonly denominated sta,tistic : thirdly , 
 the civil geography, comprising objects not so immediately 
 connected with the government, as an account of the chief 
 cities, towns, 8cc. ; 2LX\d,fou7'thlyy the natural geography of the 
 countries described. Mr. Pinkerton has arranged the coun- 
 tries according to their comparative importance, it being, he 
 observes, proper, that the objects which deserve most atten- 
 tion, should be treated of at the greatest length, and claim the 
 earliest attention of the student. An abridgment of this work, 
 in a very large and closely printed octavo volume, was drawn 
 up by Mr. Arthur Aikin, and an Introduction to it has been 
 published by Mr. Williams, with outline maps, to be filled in 
 by the learner, a plan which will be found of eminent service 
 in fixing upon the learner's mind, a strong and correct impres- 
 sion of the relative situations of the countries with respect to 
 the whole globe ; and of the cities, towns, rivers, mountains, 
 &c. with respect to each kingdom, country, or state. 
 
 We would not willingly pass over " A Compendious System 
 of Modern Geography, Historical, Physical, Political, and 
 Descriptive, by Thomas Myers," because it is a work of 
 much merit, drawn up with great care, and, as far as we haye 
 been able to examine it, the details are accurate and highly 
 interesting. 
 
 Of Geographical Grammars* on a large scale, one of the 
 most considerable is that by Salmon ; and there is another by 
 Guthrie; the latter has, in a great measure, Superseded its 
 predecessor, and contains a vast body of" information ; but the 
 historical department has been enlarged beyond due bounds, 
 for a work professedly devoted to geography. 
 
 There are several gazetteers which may be recommended 
 as highly useful in historical and geographical studies. The 
 VOL. I. z
 
 338 GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 one by Brookes is a work of much merit ; this, and also one 
 by the Rev. Clement Crutwell, profess to notice all the places 
 in the known world ; and, perhaps, in the last edition of 
 Crutwell's Gazetteer, there are but few material omissions. It 
 is extended to four large and closely printed octavo volumes, 
 and contains, in an alphabetical arrangement, a description of 
 all the empires, kingdoms, states, provinces, cities, towns, forts, 
 seas, harbours, rivers, lakes, mountains, and capes, in the world ; 
 with accounts of the government, customs, manners, and reli- 
 gion, of the inhabitants. As a vade mecum, the " Compen- 
 dious Dictionary, containing a Concise Description of the most 
 remarkable places, ancient and modern, in Europe, Asia, Africa, 
 and America," Scc. may be recommended. This small volume 
 has been several ^imes reprinted, and in the second and sub- 
 sequent editions, there is added a large chronological table. 
 
 In addition to the works already enumerated, as connected 
 Mtith teaching and illustrating modern geography, we may no- 
 tice Goldsmith's larger work, entitled, " Geography on a 
 Popular Plan," and Dr. Aikin's " Geographical Delinea- 
 tions ;" the former was intended to follow the " Grammar" 
 before referred to. In this, every country is treated of sepa* 
 rately, and at the head of each article is an account of the 
 situation, boundaries, latitude and longitude, of the country 
 treated on, with other useful particulars. Tlien follow more 
 minute accounts of the inhabitants, their dispositions, amuse- 
 ments, and ciistoms ; of thefr festivities, the climate of their 
 country, the religion which they profess, and of their educa- 
 tion. Ilie volume concludes with a descrij)tion of the cu- 
 riosities of nature, a view of the universe, and instructions for 
 projecting and drawing maps. 
 
 Dr. Aikin's " Delineations," in two volumes, differ mate- 
 rially as to their object, both from the elementary treatises, 
 and the more complete systems of this branch of knowledge, 
 and they may be considered as occupying a station whence 
 young persons of both sexes may review the extent and bear- 
 ing of their former studies. In arranging and proportioning 
 the various informaUQU concerning each country, the author
 
 METHOD OF STUDYING GEOGRAPHY. 339 
 has adopted for his two leading considerations, the characters 
 that are impressed upon it by nature, and those which it de- 
 rives from its inhabitants. 
 
 Such may be mentioned as among the leading works in 
 modern geography, many others of real merit might, no doubt, 
 have been added, but we choose to refer to those concerning 
 which we can speak from our own knowledge, rather than de- 
 pend upon the authority of other persons. 
 
 To connect ancient with modern literature, Dr. Butler's 
 *' Sketch of Modern and Ancient Geography" may be recom- 
 mended to the attention of young persons, as containing much 
 information in a small compass, and put in a striking light ; to 
 this, and to a much smaller work by Mr. Richard Perkins, 
 we have been indebted for assistance in the former part of 
 the present chapter. 
 
 ** Cellarii Geographia," in two volumes, quarto, is a work 
 of considerable authority ; as a school-book, there is a very 
 useful abridgment of it. D'Anville's maps of modern and 
 ancient geography, with his compendium of ancient geogra- 
 phy, to which we have already referred, will be a valuable ac- 
 quisition to the student. So also will Kennel's Geography, 
 of Herodotus, aud his memoir of a map of Hindostan, and 
 of the Peninsula of India.. Chauchard's General Map of 
 Germany, Holland, the Netherlands, Scc. with a descriptive 
 volume, in 4to. will be a very desirable addition to the Geo- 
 graphical library. The comparative view of ancient and mo- 
 dern geography in " Tytler's Elements of General History," 
 will be very useful in the way of reference. The Geography 
 of the New World will be best learnt from Dr. Morse's 
 " American Geography." 
 
 In connexion with these, or any of them, recourse should 
 be had to the facts and discoveries collected and related by 
 modern travellers. These may be had separately, or in col- 
 lections ; of the latter, the work of Mr. Pinkerton, in seveor 
 teen volumes, 4to. is one of the last published ; but there is 
 a very good collection in twenty-six volumes, crowp 8vo. 
 
 z a
 
 CHAP. XXIIL 
 
 ON CHRONOLOGY. 
 
 Importance; and principles of Chronology Sir Isaac Newton's method, by 
 generations by the precession of the equinoxes by eclipses. Divisions 
 of time into days months years. Cycles Lunar cycle Julian year 
 Gregorian year, and new style SoUu- cycle Cycle of Roman indic- 
 tion Julian period. 
 
 CiHRONOLOGY is the art of measuring time, distinguish- 
 ing its several constituent parts, such as years, months, weeks, 
 days, hours, &c. by appropriate marks ; and of adjusting these 
 parts to past transactions, by means of aras, epochs, and 
 cycles, to the illustration of hhtory. 
 
 The utility and importance of the knowledge of chronology, 
 as it comprehends the distribution of time into its subordinate 
 parts, and the arrangement of historical events, by means of 
 these several divisions, in the order according to which they 
 occurred, so that their respective dates may be accurately 
 fixed, will be universally acknowledged. We can form but 
 very confused notions of the intervals of time, of the rise and 
 fall of empires, and of the successive establishment of states, 
 without some general comprehension of the whole current of 
 time, as may enable us to trace out distinctly the dependence 
 of events, and distribute them into such periods and divisions, 
 as shall 4ay the whole chain of past transactions in a just and 
 orderly manner before us. This b what the science of clu'o-
 
 SIR ISAAC NEWTON*S METHOD. 341 
 
 uology undertakes to teach, or, at least, to afford us very im- 
 portant aid in the attainment of. 
 
 Chronology derives much assistance from several other 
 branches of knowledge, such as astronomy, geography, geo- 
 metry, .and arithmetic ; and also from the observation of 
 eclipses, from the testimony of credible authors, and from 
 ancient medals, coins, and monuments. 
 
 Many ages undoubtedly elapsed before the mode of com- 
 puting time, or of giving dates to important events, was 
 brought into established use. The most ancient philosophers 
 and historians, as we have seen, wrote in verse, and were un- 
 acquainted with chronology. Fronj the works of Homer, it 
 appears that there existed, at that early period of the world, 
 no formal calendar of time, nor any well-authenticated register 
 of events. Time was then measured by the revolutions of 
 the sun and moon, by the changing seasons, or the succes- 
 sive returns of labour and rest There was then, nor for ^ges 
 afterwards, no political distribution of time into such parts a? 
 months, weeks, or hours, serving the purpose as guides to 
 history, or as registers of facts ; nor is there any reference to 
 clocks, dials, clepsydrae, or other instruments, by which the 
 perpetual flow of time was broken into parts. Several centu- 
 ries intervened between the Olympic aera, and the first histo- 
 rians, and several more elapsed before the period in which 
 the first chronologers appeared. 
 
 Sir Isaac Newton, to whose " Chronology of Ancient 
 Kingdoms," we shall have occasion to refer, has shewn that 
 all nations, before they began to keep exact accounts of time, 
 have been prone to advance their antiquity. The priests of 
 Egypt reckoned one period of their history, viz. from Menes 
 to Sethon, at more than eleven thousand years. The Chal- 
 deans boasted a still greater antiquity than even the Egyptians 
 pretended to ; and there were others, who made the kingdoms 
 of Assyria, Media, and Damascus, much older than the truth. 
 
 According to the account of the illustrious Newton, the 
 Greeks called the times before the reign of Ogyges, unknown,
 
 342 CHRONOLOGY. 
 
 because they had no history of them : those between his flood 
 and the beginning of the Olympiads, they denominated fahu' 
 lous, because their history was very much blended with poetical 
 fables ; and those after the beginning of the Olympiads, his- 
 torical, because their history was free from such fables. The 
 fabulous age, however, was destitute of a chronology, so also 
 was the historical, during the first sixty or seventy Olympiads. 
 Hence it should seem, that the chronology of ancient king- 
 doms was involved in the greatest uncertainty ; and it has 
 been shewn, that the Europeans in particular had no chrono- 
 logy before the Persian empire, which began five hundred and 
 thirty-eight years before Christ ; and that the dates of events, 
 which they now have of more ancient times, have been given 
 as the result of reasoning and conjecture. After this time, 
 several of the Greek historians introduced the computation by 
 generations. 
 
 The chronology of the Latins was still more uncertain ; 
 their old records being burnt by the Gauls one hundred and 
 twenty years after the expulsion of their kings, and about the 
 year 388, B. C. 
 
 The chronologers of Gaul, Spain, Germany, Scythia, Swe- 
 den, Britain, and Ireland, are of a still later date. For Scy- 
 thia, beyond the Danube, had no letters, till Ulphilas, their 
 bishop, formed them, about the year 27G of the Christian 
 aera. Germany had none, till it received them from the west- 
 ern empire of .the Latins, about the year 400. The Huns had 
 none in the days of Procopius, about the year 526, and 
 Sweden and Norway were still later. 
 
 After a general account of the obscurity of the ancient 
 chronology, Sir Isaac Newton observes, that, though many of 
 the ancients computed by generations and successions, yet 
 the Egyptians, Greeks, and Latins, reckoned the reigns of 
 kings equal to generations of men, and three of these to a 
 hundred, or a hundred and twenty years, M'hich was the foun- 
 dation of their technical chronology. He then proceeds to 
 shew, from the ordinary course of nature, and a detail of
 
 SIR ISAAC NEWTON'S METHOD. 343 
 
 historical facts, the difference between reigns and generations ; 
 and that, though the latter, from father to son, may, at an 
 average, be reckoned at about thirty-three years, yet, when 
 they are taken by the eldest sons, three of them cannot be 
 computed at more than seventy-five or eighty years ; and the 
 reigns of kings are still shorter, so that eighteen or twenty 
 years may be allowed as a just medium. He tl;en fixes on four 
 remarkable periods, viz. the return of the Heraclidaj into Pe- 
 loponnesus, the taking of Troy, the Argonautic expedition, 
 and the return of Sesostris into Egypt, after the wars in 
 Thrace ; and settles the epocha of each by the true value of a 
 generation. 
 
 Our object in this place is, to give a view, by means of a 
 single example, of the method which this illustrious philoso- 
 pher makes use of in tracing the real dates of the most im- 
 portant events in history, from which, of course, others of 
 minor importance, but more interesting to general readers, are 
 settled on a sure foundation. 
 
 We take as our example, the Argonautic expedition, an 
 event which is the grand hinge on which all the chronology of 
 ancient Greece turns. Having fixed the return of the Hera- 
 clidae to about the one hundred and fifty-ninth year after the 
 death of Solomon, and the destruction of Troy to the seventy- 
 sixth after the same epoch. Sir Isaac observes, that Hercules, 
 the Argonaut, was the father of Hyllus, the father of Cleodus, 
 the father of Aristoraachus, the father of Temenus, Cresphon- 
 tes, and Aristodemus^ who led the HeracJida^ into Pelopon- 
 nesus: hence their return was four generations later than the 
 Argonautic expedition, and these generations were short ones, 
 being by the chief of the family. Counting, therefore, eighty 
 years backward from the return of the HeraclidjE to the 
 Trojan war, and the taking of Troy, will be about seventy-six 
 years after the death of Solomon, as has been observed above; 
 and the Argonautic expedition, which was one generation 
 earlier, will be forty-three years after it. From the taking of 
 Troy to the return of the Heraclidse, our author observesj
 
 344 ^ CHRONOLOGY. 
 
 *' cou'd scarcely be more ihan eighty years, because Orestes, 
 the son of Agamemnon, was a youth at the taking of Troy, 
 and his sons lived till the return of the Heraclidae." 
 
 Another method used by Sir Isaac Newton fof fixing the 
 date of the Argonautic expedition is purely astronomical, but 
 nevertheless intelligible to those who have made but a small 
 progress in the science. The sphere, it is known, was formed 
 by Chiron and Musaeus at the time, and for the use of the 
 Argonautic expedition, and they placed the solsticial and equi- 
 noctial points in the loth degree of the constellations Cancer, 
 Xibra, Capricorn, and Aries. Now Meton, in the year of 
 Nabonassar, 3l6, or 431, B. C. observed that tlie summer sol- 
 stice had then gone back seven degrees, and as it goes back one 
 degree in seventy-two- years, it must have taken five hundred 
 and four years to have gone back seven degrees, but five hun- 
 dred and four years added to the four hundred and thirty-one, 
 B. C. just mentioned, gives nine hundred and thirtyrfive years, 
 B. C. ; and forty-three years added to this as found above, 
 brings us to the period of the death of Solomon, or about the 
 nine hundred and seventy-eighth y^r before the Christian ara. 
 See Sir Isaac Newton's Short Chronicle. 
 
 The same author ascertains this, and several other capital 
 events in the Grecian history, by the above, and many other 
 independent arguments drawn from similar sources, which are 
 so agreeable to the present course of nature, that there seems 
 no reason why we should not place the. fullest confidence in 
 the facts drawn from them. 
 
 But the time of past events is likewise ascertained by means 
 of celestial appearances, from which, on account of the regu- 
 larity and constancy of the revolutions of the heavenly bodies, 
 and because the laws of their motions are so exactly known 
 to us, the most clear and undeniable conclusions may be 
 drawn. In this respect, modern chronologers and historians 
 are greatly indebted to the superstition with which the ancients 
 regarded unusual appearances hi the heavens. It was their 
 supposed portentous nature that drew upon them the attention
 
 ECLIPSES ATTRIBUTED TO CHRONOLOGY. 345 
 of mankind, who dreaded their unicnown influences and ef- 
 fects ; and, on this account only, they engaged the notice of 
 historians. Fortunately for the historians and chronologers of 
 modern times, the catalogue of ancient eclipses, not observed 
 by philosophers, but gazed at by the superstitious vulgar, is 
 pretty full. . 
 
 With the history of many remarkable revolutions and cri- 
 tical situations in the history of states, the eclipses which pre- 
 ceded or accompanied tliem, are faithfully transmitted to us ; 
 and in cases where the time, the place, and the quantity of an 
 eclipse are mentioned, though not with astronomical exact- 
 ness, it is not difficult, by certain rules of calculation, to fix 
 the very year, and often day, when the event happened. For, 
 considering the great variety which the three circumstances of 
 time, place, and quantity, occasion in the appearance of 
 eclipses, there is no room to suspect that any two, happening 
 within a moderate distance of one another, can be in the least 
 danger of being confounded. 
 
 Dr. Playfair, Ferguson, and others, have given long lists of 
 eclipses that occurred before the Christian aera, observed by 
 astronomers, or recorded by historians: likewise of all the 
 eclipses that have occurred, and that will happen between the 
 birth of Christ, and the end of the present century, and have 
 shewn how they may be applied to the verification of dates in 
 history. The following example will point out in what man- 
 ner this kind of knowledge is to be appreciated ; and how the 
 date of the events is ascertained by its help. 
 
 In Thucydides' history, an eclipse of the moon is thus re- 
 corded : " Upon the arrival of Gylippus to the assistance of 
 the Syracusans, the Athenians, finding that they were no 
 match for the united force of their enemies, repented that 
 they had not quitted their situation before, and immediately 
 came to the resolution to sail out of the harbour as secretly 
 as possible. But when every thing was ready for sailing, the 
 moon was eclipsed, for it was then full moou. Upon this, 
 most of the Athenians; alarmed at the omen, desiied their
 
 346 CHRONOLOGY. 
 
 coinmnndcrs to proceed no farther ; aud Nicias, being him- 
 self a superstitious observer of such prodigies, declared that 
 he would not come to any final resolution about quitting the 
 place till they had staid three days longer, according to the 
 advice of the soothsayers. This occasioned the Athenians to 
 remain in the place, which tliey had never after an opportunity 
 of leaving, and in which they almost to a man perished." This 
 event is placed by historians in the year 413, B.C. To ascertain 
 the truth of this fact, we refer to the astronomical tables, 
 from which it appears that the moon was full about midnight 
 at London, on the 27 th of August* in that year, when the 
 sun wais so near the nodes, as to be within the limits of Lunar 
 eclipses, and when of course there must have been a total 
 eclipse of the moon, which would be visible, from beginning 
 to end, to the Athenians, and may therefore reasonably be 
 supposed to have produced the effect ascribed to it by the 
 historian, 
 
 A history, which contains an account of a sufficient number 
 of these phenomena, furnishes the surest test of its authenticity. 
 It may be farther observed, that the truth of the Scripture 
 history being unquestionable, and relating to times prior to 
 the age, in which history began to be written by any other 
 people than the Jews, it is the best guide to the kno^^ledge 
 of prophane antiquity. It was in pursuing this plan, that 
 Sir Isaac Newton was led to correct the ancient chronology 
 of the Greeks, by itself. The principles on which he reduces 
 their accounts are, as we have seen, founded on nature, and 
 "independent of any arguments drawn from Scripture. But 
 it is probable that believing (see his Chronology, p. 66-79.) 
 Sesostris to have been the vame person witli Sesac, or 
 Shisak, of whom an account is given in the history of Reho- 
 boam, in the second book of Chronicles, he first fixed the 
 date of tliat expedition according to the Scriptures ; and after- 
 
 In Playfaifs tables, the date of the year is 423, which is evidently a 
 mistake of the printer, who inserted the 2 iustcad of 1.
 
 DIVISIONS OF TIME. 347 
 
 wards from considering the subject in various points of light, 
 he was led to the other arguments that have been referred to, 
 by which he was able to confirm the Scriptural date of that 
 event, and also the dates of the principal facts in the history 
 of Greece connected with it, in a manner independent of the 
 authorities on which he originally founded his opinion. Then, 
 having by the joint assistance of Scripture and reason, recti- 
 fied the chronology of the Greeks, he made use of it to ad- 
 just the contemporary affairs of the Egyptians, Assyrians, 
 Babylonians, Medes and Persians, which are the subjects of. 
 the several chapters contained in his " Chronology of Ancient 
 Kingdoms amended," 8cc; 
 
 Having briefly shewn in what way the astronomy of 
 eclipses, and of the precession of the equinoxes; and the 
 use of observations on the intervals between the generations 
 of men, and succession of kings, are apphed to ascertain the 
 dates of past events, as recorded on the page of history, ' we 
 shall proceed to notice and explain the several artificial divi- 
 sions of time, which are of great importance to the student in 
 history. 
 
 The divisions of time which are considered in chronology, 
 relate either to the different methods of computing days, 
 mouths and years, or the remarkable aeras or epochas from 
 which any year receives its name, and by means of which the 
 date of any event is fixed. 
 
 The divisions of time which probably first attracted the 
 notice of mankind, were those marked by the revolutions of 
 the heavenly bodies, as days, lunar months, and years ; and if 
 these had exactly corresponded with each other, so that every 
 lunation had consisted unifbrmly of the same number of days, 
 and each year of a regular number of lunations, the business 
 of chronology would have been comparatively easy. But as 
 this is not the case, the embarrassments and difficulties atten- 
 ding the subject, have been owing to the methods that have 
 been adopted to accommodate the three methods of com-
 
 348 CHRONOLOGY. 
 
 pitting time, viz. by days, months, and years, to one another, 
 
 so as to make use of tliem all at the same time. 
 
 Besides these three natural divisions of time, there is 
 another into weeks of seven days ; which division, however, 
 though used by Jews, Christians and Mahometans, and by 
 almost all the people of Asia and Africa, was not observed 
 by the ancient Greeks and Romans. We shall now proceed 
 to give an account of the above named divisions of time, and 
 point out the methods, as briefly as we can, of accommodating 
 them to one another. 
 
 Of^ the day. It must be observed that days have been very 
 differently begun, and divided by different people, in different 
 ages : thus the ancient Babylonians, Persians and other eastern 
 nations, began their day with the sun's rising. The ancient 
 Athenians, Jews, and many German nations, the modern 
 Italians, and Chinese, reckon from the sun's setting : the 
 Arabians, &c. with modern astronomers, reckon from noon ; and 
 the Egyptians and Romans, with the modern English, French, 
 Dutch, Germans, Spaniards, and Portuguese, from midnight. 
 
 The Jews, Romans, and most other ancient nations divided 
 their day into twelve hours, and the night into watches. But 
 the custom now generally prevails in the western part of the 
 world, to divide the day into 24 equal portions : with a few 
 of the nations, as the Italians, the Poles, and Bohemians, 
 the twenty-four hours are counted on without interruption, 
 but in general they are divided into twice twelve, to which 
 our time-pieces are accommodated. 
 
 Of the month. There is scarcely any doubt, but that the 
 division of time into months was originally suggested by the 
 phases, or periodical changes of the moon, and that in 
 ancient computations, the months were lunar. As a complete 
 lunation consists of about 29^ days, and the changes of the 
 moon are very visible, there was no great difficulty in accom- 
 modating them to each other, or in fixing what number of 
 days should be allowed to a month. In general the ancients
 
 DIVISIONS OE TIME. 349 
 
 jnade them consist of 29 and 30 days alternately. When 
 months came to be reckoned not by lunations, but were con- 
 sidered as the twelfth, part of a year consisting of about 365^ 
 days, it became necessary to allow sometimes SO and some- 
 times 31 days to a month, as in the Roman Calendar.* 
 Whenever months are mentioned as divided into days in the 
 Scriptures, they are supposed to consist of 30 days each, and 
 in these cases 12 months, or 360 days, are reckoned in the year. 
 
 Of the year. Different nations have made their years 
 begin at different times, and have used a variety of methods 
 to give names to them, and distinguish them from each other. 
 The Jews, for instance, began the year for civil purposes in 
 the month called Tizriy which answers to our September ; but, 
 for ecclesiastical purposes, they began with Nizafi, which 
 answers to our April, at which time they kept the passover. 
 The people of Athens began the year with the month which com- 
 menced with the first new moon after the summer solstice. 
 The early Romans had only ten months in their year, but 
 Numa Pompilius added two others, viz. January and February. 
 
 In modern Rome, there are two modes of reckoning : one 
 begins the year at Christmas, on account of the nativity of 
 our Saviour : this the notaries and public men make use of, 
 by prefixing to their deeds a nativitate: by the other, the 
 commencement is in March, which refers to the incarnation 
 of Christ, hence the pope's bulls are dated, anno incarnationis. 
 
 In England, we had, till the year 1752, two beginnings of 
 the year, one in January, and the other on the 25 th March ; 
 but by act of Parliament, at the period alluded to, the first 
 of January was appointed to be the beginning of the year for 
 all purposes. 
 
 The eastern nations generally distinguish the year by the 
 reigns of their princes. The Greeks named their years from 
 the magistrates who presided over them, as in Athens^ 
 
 This Calendar, as it existed in the days of Julius Caesar, may b* 
 fbund in Danet's Classical Dictionary 4to. 1700: it was copied into a 
 very entertaining periodical work, entitled " Time's Telescope, for 1814."
 
 350 GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 from the Archons. The Romans likewise named the year by 
 the consuls, and it was a long time before names were assigned 
 to years, from any particular a^ra or lemarkable event. At 
 length the Greeks reckoned from the institution of tlie Olympic 
 games, and the Romans from the building of their city. It 
 was not till about the year 360, that Christians began to 
 reckon from the birth of Christ, and hence the difficulty of 
 ascertaining with precision, the true time of that important 
 event. 
 
 Cycles. The chief difficulty in chronology, has been to 
 accommodate the two methods of computing time, viz. by the 
 course of the moon, and that of the sun, to each other; the nearest 
 division of the year by months, being twelve, but twelve lunar 
 months falling eleven days short of a complete year. This 
 gave birth to many cycles in use among the ancients. 
 
 Cycles are fixed intervals of times, composed of the suc- 
 cessive revolutions of a certain number of years. The Greeks 
 for instance reckoned by Olympiads, or periods of Jour years : 
 and the Romans by hustra, or periods of five years. These, 
 strictly speaking, may be denominated cycles, though the 
 term is usually appropriated to larger intervals, connected with 
 the periodical return of certain appearances. 
 
 As the twelve Lunar months did not agree with the number 
 of days in a year, the Greeks were accustomed to add, or as 
 it is technically called, intercalate, a month every other year, 
 this was eight days too much, and was lio doubt rectified by 
 omitting the addition, when it was observed, by comparing the 
 seasons with their annual festivals, that they ought so to do. 
 This method would therefore never have deviated far from the 
 truth, had not other circumstances occurred of a political 
 nature, which baffled all regular computation. When, for 
 instance, it was the interest of the chief magistrate to lengthen 
 or shorten a year, for purposes of ambition, all other con- 
 siderations were often sacrificed to it, and the greatest con- 
 fusion was introduced. Hence they found themselves under 
 the necessity of having some certain rule to compute by, and
 
 DIVISIONS OF TIME. 351 
 
 at first they added, or intercalated one mouth in every four 
 years, but as four times 1 1 is 44, the error would be still 14 
 days in that cycle or period of time. They then intercalated 
 three months or 90 days in 8 years, in this, there was an ex- 
 cess of about 2 days, which error being but trifling, the cycle 
 continued in use a considerable time. 
 
 Lunar cycle. Melon, an Athenian Astronomer, invented 
 the cycle of 19 years, in which 7 months were intercalated. 
 This, which was called from the inventor, the Metonic cycle, 
 brought the two methods to so near an agreement, that after 
 the expiration of the period, the new and full moons return on 
 the same days of the year, on which they were nineteen years be- 
 fore, hence it is called the Lunar cycle. This cycle, somewhat 
 improved, was adopted by the Christians, A. D, 325, at the 
 council of Nice, for the purpose of settling the time for 
 Easter, and the other feasts, which depend upon it. This 
 period, however, falling short of 19 years, almost an hour 
 and half, the new and full moons in the heavens have 
 anticipated the new and full moons in the calendar of the 
 Common-Prayer book, at this time, 1815, by 117 hours, or 
 nearly 5 days.* These last are called Calendar new moons, 
 to distinguish them from the real new moons. 
 
 From the great utility of this cycle to the purposes above- 
 mentioned, the council of Nice caused the numbers df it to 
 be written in golden characters, whence it obtained the name 
 of the golden number. If the lunar cycle had been made, 
 or supposed to commence with the Christian aera, the golden 
 number for any year would have been the remainder found by 
 dividing the given year by 19. But this consideration was ne- 
 glected, and in reckoning back, it was found that the first year 
 of our aera corresponded to the second year of the cycle of 
 19 years. Therefore the golden number is found for any 
 year by adding 1 to the given year, and dividing by 19; and 
 the remainder left after division is the number sought : thus 
 
 * 1815325=1490 and this multiplied by l| and divided by 19, gives 
 117 hours.
 
 352 CHRONOLOGY. 
 
 for the year 1815, we say 1^=95 and 11 over, therefore 
 the Golden number for the year is 1 1 ; if there be no remain- 
 der, then the Golden number is IQ. 
 
 Julian year. Before we come to the Solar cycle, we must 
 give some account of the method of adjusting the number of 
 days to a year, in which there was considerable difficulty, 
 inasmuch as the period that the earth takes in going round the 
 sun, which is the length of the year, does not consist of any 
 even number of days, but of 365 days 5 hours and 49 minutes. 
 
 The Egyptians, Chaldeans and Assyrians, reckoned at tirst 
 360 days to the year, and aftenvards 365. The consequence 
 of this was, that the beginning of their year, would go back 
 through all the seasons, though slowly, viz. at the rate of 5 
 hours and 49 minutes every year. Of this form were the 
 years which took their date from the reign of Nabonassar of 
 Babylon, Yesdigerd of Persia, and the Seleucidae of Syria, 
 of which we shall soon have occasion to speak. 
 
 The inconvenience attending the form of the year above 
 noticed was remedied by Julius Czesar, who added one day 
 to every foiu-th year, which, from its place of insertion, viz. 
 the sixth of the calends of March, was called bissextile, or 
 the sixth repeated, answers to our leap year. This form is, 
 from its inventor, called the Julian year. 
 
 Gregorian year. The true length of the year being 11 
 minutes short of 365 days 6 hours. Pope Gregory XIII. in- 
 troduced another amendment in the year 1582, by ordering a 
 day to be taken out of the calendar once in 133 years, or 
 what amounted to the same thing, that three days should be 
 taken out of 400 years, in the following manner: vizv from and 
 after the"year 1600, every hundredth year, which according to 
 the Julian form, should be bissextile, or leap year, was to be 
 reckoned common, but every four hundredth year was to con- 
 tinue bissextile, as in the Julian account. When this pope 
 undertook to rectify the calendar, the error which had crept 
 in by the former method amounted to ten days ; he, therefore, 
 commanded the ten days between tlie 4th and 15th of Octo-
 
 CYCLES. S53 
 
 her, in thtit year, to be suppressed, so that the 3th was called 
 the 1 3th. Tins alteration took place, at the same time, through 
 the greater part of Europe, and the year was afterwards called 
 the Gregorian year, or New Style, which was not admitted 
 into our calendar till 1752, when the error amounted to eleven 
 days, which were taken from the month of September, by 
 calling the 3d of that month the 14th. By act of parliament 
 at the same time. New Year's day was changed from the 25th 
 of March to the 1st of January. Of course the following 
 months of January, February, and March, up to the 24th, 
 inclusive, which would, by the old method, have been reck- 
 oned part of the year 1752, were accounted as die first three 
 months of the year 1753. Hence in many books printed after 
 that period, we read of such dates as 20th February, 1774,5, 
 that is, by old style it would be 1 774, but by the new it was 
 1775. 
 
 Solar Cycle. It has been of consequence to Christians to 
 adjust the days of the week to the days of the month, and of 
 the year, in order to get a rule for finding Sunday. Had there 
 been no bissextile, as the year consists of fifty-two weeks and one 
 day, all the varieties that could have happened, would have been 
 comprised in seven years. But the bissextile returning every 
 fourth year, the series is interrupted, and does not return in 
 order, until after four times seven, or twenty-eight years, 
 which is, therefore, called the solar cycle, serving as a rule to 
 find Sunday, and of course the other days of the week. At the 
 expiration of this period of twenty-eight years, the sun returns 
 to the sign and degree of the ecliptic, which he had occupied 
 at the conclusion of the preceding period, and the days of the 
 week correspond to the same days of the month as at that time. 
 
 In finding what year of the solar cycle corresponds to any 
 given year of the Christian aera, it must be remembered, that 
 the first year of the Christian aera is supposed to correspond 
 to the tenth of the solar cycle, and the rule is as follows : 
 
 To any given year add nine, and divide the sum by 28, 
 the quotient gives the number of the revolutions of the cycle 
 
 VOL. I. 2 a
 
 
 114 CHRONOLOGY. 
 
 since its commencement, and the remainder will be the year of 
 
 the cycle. If there be no remainder, the year of the cycle is 
 
 called 28. ITie year of the solar cycle for the present year, 1815, 
 
 1815+9 1824 J , . , . , 
 
 * ^ =-^ =65 and the remainder, 4, is the number of the 
 
 solar cycle. 
 
 In our calendars the days of the week are distinguished by 
 the first seven letters in the alphabet. A, B, C, D, E, F, G. 
 The letter A is always put for the first day of the year, B, for 
 the second, and so on in succession to the seventh. If, for 
 example, the first of January fall on a Sunday, the dominical, 
 or Sunday letter, will be A, Monday, B, 8cc. ; and as the 
 number of letters is the same as that of the days of the week, 
 A, will fall on every Sunday, B, on every Monday, C, on 
 every Tuesday, &,c., throughout the year. Had the year 
 consisted of 364 days, making an exact number of weeks. A, 
 would have been a perpetual Sunday letter, but as it contains 
 one more, the dominical letter for the following year will be 
 G, because, Sunday, being the first day of the preceding year, 
 will also be the last, the first Sunday will fall on the seventh 
 day, and will be marked by the seventh letter, or G. This 
 retrocession of the letters will, from the same cause, con- 
 tinue every year, sp as to make F, the dominical letter of the 
 third year, E, of the fourth, and so on. In leap-years, for 
 obvious reasons, the Sunday letter will, after the 28th of Fe- 
 bruary, be thrown back two letters. Thus, in the year 1814, 
 the dominical letter was B, in the present year it is thrown 
 back a letter, and is A, and in January and February, 18 IG, 
 it will be G, but in the other ten months, as a day is added 
 to Februajy, the Sunday letter will be F. If a table be con- 
 structed for the years of one of these solar cycles, it will 
 answer for the corresponding years in every successive cycle. 
 
 Ci/cle of' Roman Indiction. Besides the above mentioned 
 periods of years, there is one called the cycle of Roman In- 
 diction, a period of fifteen years, at the end of which, a cer- 
 tain tribute was paid by the provinces of the Roman empire, 
 and by which the Roman Emperors ordered their public acts
 
 CYCLES. 355 
 
 to be dated. The current year of thetiRoman Indiction is 
 found by adding 3, and dividing by 15, the remainder, 3, is 
 
 - , , , 1815 + 3 1818 
 
 the number of the year sought, thus j^ -jr-:=:\Q,i and 3 
 over. 
 
 Julian period. Tliis, which has been called the most re- 
 markable of all tlie periods in chronology, was invented by 
 Joseph Scaliger, it takes its name from the yeai*s of which it 
 consists being Julian years. The object of the inventor was 
 to reduce to a certainty, the different methods of computing 
 time, and fixing the dates of events by different chronologers. 
 For this purpose, nothing wSs necessary but a series of years, 
 some term of which was tixed, comprehending the whole ex- 
 tent of time. Since if al^ chronologers would apply that com- 
 mon measure to their several schemes, they would understand 
 one another. 
 
 ?To attain this object, the author combined the three periods 
 of the sun, the moon, and indiction, together, that is, multi- 
 plying the numbers 28, 19, and 15, into one another, which 
 produces 7980; after which, all the three cycles will return in 
 the same order, every year, being distinguished by the same 
 number of each. To fix the beginning of this period, he 
 took tBe cycles as he then foimd them settled in the Latin 
 church, and tracing them back through their several combina- 
 tions, he found that the year in which they would all begin 
 together was the year before the Creation, 714, and that Uie 
 first year of the Christian aera would be 47 1 4 of this period. 
 The year of the Julian period corresponding with any given year, 
 before or since the commencement of the Christian aera, may be 
 found by the following rule. If the year required be since the 
 commencement of I he Christian aera, add to it 4713, and the 
 sum will be the year required. If it be before the Christian sera, 
 then subtract the year B. C. from 4714, and the difference 
 will be the result. 
 
 Christian &ra. The period just mentioned is now seldom 
 used, notwithstanding the high estimation in which it wag for- 
 merly held, because, in truth, the very general adoption of 
 
 2 A 2
 
 356 CHRONOLOGY. 
 
 tlie Ciiristian asra, supersedes the want of any otlier standard 
 of time tliaii that. It is true there may be a difference of 
 opiuion respecting the time when Christ was born, but this is 
 no inconvenience, since all chronologers agree in calling the 
 present, and of course every other year, by the same name, 
 and, therefore, they have the same idea of the interval be- 
 tween the present year, and any other year in the system. 
 The real time of the birth of Christ cannot affect the use of 
 this system, since, using the same system of dates, they may 
 say Christ was born in tlie third, fourth, fifth, sixth, or seventh, 
 or any other year before the Christian aera. Whenever, there- 
 fore, chronologers ceased to date events from the Creation, 
 tbey had no occasion to have recourse to any such period as 
 the Julian, since another, capable of answering the same pur- 
 poses, was already in common use, supplying them with a 
 lai^uage which they all equally understood. 
 
 i 
 
 CK^ 
 
 ' ' ...^ /i/ ^ 
 
 M.
 
 CHAP. XXIV. 
 
 CHRONOLOGY, 
 
 nw Continued. 
 
 Epochas and ^ras Creation of the World Deluge Argonautic expe-- 
 dition Destruction of Troy Olympic Games Rbman yEra; yEra of 
 Nabonassar ^ra of the* Selencidae Spanish ^ra Christian ^ra 
 Mohammedan vEra Memoria Technica. 
 
 W E shall now give some account of the Epochas and ffiras 
 which are most known in history, and which are of frequent 
 recurrence, as well in chronology as in history. An Epocha 
 or Epoch, relates to a certain point of time, which is generally 
 determined by some remarkable event, from which subsequent 
 events are reckoned, and the years reckoned from that period 
 are denominated an JBra : thus the birth of Christ is consi- 
 dered as an epocha ; but the series of years flowing from and 
 after that event, are called the years of the Christian aera : 
 bence we date the present year. Anno Domini, 1815. 
 
 In sacred chronology, the first and most remarkable epocha 
 is that of the Creation of the world, but as learned men could 
 not agree, as to the time when this event took place, they 
 have long since ceased to reckon from it. Archbishop Usher, 
 whose Scripture-chronology is adopted in our translation of the
 
 358 CHRONOLOGY. * 
 
 Bible, fixes this event in the year 4004 before the birth of 
 Christ ; Dr. Playfair places it in the year B. C 4007 : but 
 according to the Septuagint version, it is placed 5872, B. C. 
 and by the Samaritan version, it is fixed to the year 4700. 
 
 The Universal Deluge forms another epoch, which, accord- 
 ing to the reckoning of Usher, is placed in the year 2348, 
 B. C. The two other chief epochas, founded on the Old 
 Testament, are, the call of Abraham, in the year 1921 ; 
 and the departure of the Israelites from Egypt, in 149', B. C 
 
 Tl^e aera of the Seleucidae, or year of the Contracts, is 
 reckoned from the establishment' of Seleucus, one of Alex- 
 ander's generals, after the death of his master, in the empire 
 of Babylon, and is reckoned from the year B. C. 3 1 2. 
 
 The Greeks, as we have seen, for a long time had no 
 epocha from which they reckoned, but afterwards they assum- 
 ed the commencemeift of the Olympic Games as the found- 
 ation of their first aera, which were instituted in honour of 
 JupiterJ and celebrated once in four years. The Olympic 
 aera begins with the year 77^, B. C. The chief epocha among 
 the Romans, and to which there is a perpetual reference in 
 their histories, is the building of the city, assumed to have 
 taken pljice in the year 763, B. C. 
 
 The aera of Nabonassar is reckoned from the commence- 
 ment of the reign of Nabonassar, the founder of the Baby- 
 lonish monarchy, which is placed in the year 747, B. C. 
 The year in this aera consisted of 12 months of 30 days each, 
 and five intercalary years. 
 
 In profane history, the epocha of the Argonautic expedition 
 is much celebrated, and has been, as we have observed, that 
 which Sir Isaac Newton has adopted as the foundation of his 
 system of chronology. This has been referred to the year 
 1225, B. C, but writers are not at all agreed as to the date. 
 The destruction of Troy forms another remarkable epocha, 
 and though uiucli uncertainty urevails as to the exact time 
 when this event actually took place, yet it is generally fixed by 
 chronologers and by Dr. Playfair at 1183, B. C.
 
 The Spanish aera, reckoned from the year 38, B. C. is 
 founded on a division of the Roman provinces among the 
 Triumviri, and was pretty general in Spain and Africa, and 
 adopted in the dates of the principal councils and synods held 
 in those countries. This gave way to 
 
 The Christian sera, which was invented about the year 526, 
 by Dionysius Exiguus, a Roman Abbot, who reckoned the 
 first year of it to correspond with the 4714 of the Julian 
 period. Learned men differ very materially with regard to 
 the exact time of the birth of Christ, from which this period 
 is dated, and this uncertainty arises from the sera not having 
 been adopted until the sixth century, so that it was impossible 
 at that time to fix the date with accuracy. Dr. Playfair 
 makes the 
 
 4008th year of the World. 
 
 First year of 
 the Christian 
 aera corres- ^ 
 pond with 
 the - - - 
 
 1st 
 
 754th 
 
 749th 
 
 313th 
 
 46th 
 
 Sgth 
 
 10th 
 
 18th 
 
 2d 
 
 4th 
 
 nth 
 
 B as the Dominical letter. 
 
 195th Olympiad. 
 
 Building of Rome. 
 
 Nabonassarean aera. 
 
 Seleucidas. 
 
 Julius Caesar. 
 
 Spanish aera. 
 
 Solar cycle. 
 
 Cycle of the moon. 
 
 Paschal cycle. 
 
 Roman Indiction. 
 
 Epact 
 
 Previously to the establishment and adoption of the Chris- 
 tian aera, the Christians, (who had formerly computed from 
 the building of Rome) had made use of the Dioclesian aara, 
 which took its rise from the persecution by Dioclesian, in the 
 year 284, after the birth of Christ. 
 
 The Hegira, or Mohammedan aera, is founded upon the flight 
 of Mohammed from Mecca to Medina, to escape the perse-
 
 3i0 CHRONOLOGY. 
 
 cutlon of his enemies, which is agreed by his follo\<'ers to have 
 been A. D. 622. It must be observed, with respect to all those 
 methods of denominating time, that great care will be required 
 that the year be reckoned according to the method of com- 
 putation followed by the people who use it. Thus, in reckon- 
 ing from the Hegira, or in accommodating any year of this 
 aera, to one of the Christian aera, a person would be lead to a 
 mistake, who should make tliose years correspond to Julian 
 years, because the Mohammedans make their year consist of 
 lunar montlis, without adapting it to the course of the Kun ; 
 so that with them the beginning of each year goes backward, 
 oomputed with true time, at the rate of eleven days every year. 
 He must, therefore, deduct eleven days from every year, 
 which has elapsed since the coimnencement of it. ThiUy 
 though the first year of this aera corresponded to the year 622 
 of Christ, and began on the l6th of July; the year 331 of 
 the Hegira, does not correspond with A. D. 953, but with 
 942, and it began Sept. 15th, and the beginning of the year 
 1231, of the Hegira, answers to Dec. 2d. of the present year 
 1815. 
 
 By the following table, the year of the" Hegira may always 
 be readily reduced to its corresponding year of the Christian 
 eera: 
 
 33 1 
 66 2 
 99 3 
 131 4 
 165 5 
 198 6 
 231 7 
 aSi 8 
 297 9 
 33010 
 36311 
 S96 12 
 
 42913 
 46214 
 49515 
 52816 
 56117 
 59418 
 62719 
 66020 
 69321 
 72622 
 75923 
 79224 
 
 82525 
 
 85826 
 
 89127 
 
 924^28 
 
 95729 
 
 99030 
 
 102331 
 
 105632 
 
 108933 
 
 112234 
 
 1 15535 
 
 118836 
 
 122137 
 1254 38 
 128739 
 1320^0 
 135341 
 138642 
 141943 
 1452 44 
 1485 45 
 151846
 
 In the use of this table, it must be remembered that 33 
 Arabic years, are shorter than the same number of Christian 
 years by one year, 66 by 2 years, &c. 
 
 To reduce a year of the Hegira to a year of Christ, add 
 621, the Christian date of the commencement of the Hegira, 
 to the given year, and then look for th^ date of the Hegira 
 in the preceding table. If you do not find it, take the next 
 lowest dale, and subtract the number corresponding with it 
 from the sum already obtained, and you have remaining the 
 exact vear of the Christian %ra. 
 
 
 Example 1 . To reduce the year 757 of the Hegira to its 
 corresponding year in the Christian sera. 
 
 757 
 
 621 
 
 1378 
 
 J^ok for the next number, not exceeding the date of the 
 Hegira in the table, which will be found to be 726, the cor- 
 responding number of which is 22. 
 
 Therefore from 1378 
 Subtract 22 
 
 and you have 1356 the year sought. 
 
 Example 2. To reduce the year 1231 of the Hegira, to 
 the year of Christ, which answers to it. 
 
 1231 
 621 
 
 1852 
 37 
 
 1815 the year sought.
 
 362 CHRONOLOGY. 
 
 Another method of finding what Julian year corresponds to 
 a given year of the Hegira, is " to multiply the number of 
 the given year by 354, and divide the product by 36o : to the 
 quotient add 622. Thus the year answering to i231 of tlie 
 
 Hegira, is ^~|^V622=1815. 
 
 Tliis compendiuhi of chronology will, it is presumed, be 
 sufficient for almost all the purposes of reading history. It 
 remains, therefore, that we now gjve some account of what 
 we esteem the best method of retaining the dates connected 
 with facts recorded in history, which is that described by Dr. 
 Grey, in his 
 
 MMOSlt>A> TCHNICA. 
 
 Of all things, there is tne greatest difficulty in retaining 
 numbers. They have been compared to grains of sand, which 
 will not cohere in the order in which we place them ; but, by 
 transmuting figures into letters, which easily cohere, in every 
 combination, we fix and retain numbers in the mind with the 
 same ease and certainty with which we remember words. As 
 this method is so easily learned, an^ may be of so much use in 
 recollecting dates, when other methods are not at hand, par- 
 ticularly in conversation upon the subject of history, whep 
 dates are often wanted, Dr. Priestley sa^s, *' I think all 
 persons of a liberal education inexcusable, who will not take 
 the small pains that is necessary to make themselves masters of 
 it, or who think any thing mean, or unworthy of their notice, 
 which is so useful and convenient." We shall therefore ex- 
 plain Dr. Grey's method, and give, as an exemplification, two 
 or three of the examples which will be found most useful to 
 the student in history and chronology, and which will enable 
 hiln to form others, ad lihitunif for himself, in the course of 
 his reading. 
 
 To remember any fact in history, a word is /ormed, the 
 beginning of which being the first syllable or syllables of the 
 thing sought, will, by frequent repetition, draw after it the 
 latter part, which is so contrived as to give the answer. Thus,
 
 MEMORIA TECHNICA. 363 
 
 in history, the Deluge happened in the year before Christ 
 2348, which date is to remembered by the word Deietok, 
 Del standing for Deluge, and etokf as will be now shewn, for 
 the date, 2348. 
 
 In this art, letters stand for numbers; thus, the five vowels, 
 a e i u, stand for 1 , 2, 3, 4, 5 ; these combined, make diph- 
 thongs, as a It, o i, o u, which represent the numbers 6, 7, 
 and 9 : ei, as the first letters of the word, stand for eight. 
 
 Consonants being required as well as vowels, we have b, d, 
 standing for 1 and 2, as th first two consonants ; t, f, s, n, 
 for three, four, six, and nine ; I stands for Jivey p for seven, 
 k for eight, and i/ and z for a cypher, or 0. 
 
 The whole method is explained in the following table : 
 
 a 
 
 e 
 
 1 
 
 o 
 
 u 
 
 au 
 
 Ol 
 
 ei 
 
 ou 
 
 y 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 S 
 
 4 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 7 
 
 8 
 
 9 
 
 
 
 b 
 
 d 
 
 t 
 
 f 
 
 1 
 
 s 
 
 P 
 
 k 
 
 n 
 
 z. 
 
 Here it is evidentthat a and b stand for 1 ; e and ? for 2; 
 i and ^ for 3 ; o and y for 4 ; u and / for 5 ; and so on. -vj' 
 
 Although the letters are arbitrarily assigned, we may ob- 
 serve, that a u stand naturally for 6, because a stands for one, 
 and u for five, and 1 + 5 r: 6 ; for a similar reason, o i 
 stand for 7 ; and o w for 9 ; I stands for 5, being, as Dr. 
 Grey observes, the Roman letter for 50, p stands for 7, as 
 being the en)phatic letter in the word septem, seven ; and, for 
 a similar reason, k stands for 8, okIu, the Greek for eight. 
 
 The foregoing table being committed to memory, with the 
 explanations, the next thing to be done by the learner is, to 
 obtain the habit of forming technical wordil , to jpy cpwbjga^- 
 
 tions of figures. 
 
 
 Examples. 
 
 I < M ; 
 
 ' T'' ' ' 
 
 10 325 
 
 399 
 
 1921 6491 
 
 680 
 
 1810 
 
 az tel 
 
 toun 
 
 aneb aufna 
 
 seiz 
 
 akby.* 
 
 * The y is pronounced broad to distinguish it from the i, and where 
 it can be done conveniently, it is pronounced like the w, as syd^ is pro- 
 nounced swid, typ, twjp, &.C.
 
 364 CHRONOLOGY. 
 
 Suppose I wish to remember the date of the death of our 
 great Milton, and know that it happened in the year 1 674 ; I 
 will make use of the first four letters of the name, and add to 
 them the technical syllable asoif for the year, a being 1, s 6, 
 oi 7, and y 4 ; thus the word is MWtasoif. 
 
 Where many cyphers come together, as 1000, 1,000,000, 
 ^ stands for 100; th for 1000; m for 1,000,000; thus u g 
 stands for 500; eith 8000; um 5,000,000, five million; 
 au gm six hundred million. 
 
 The same date or number may be expressed by different 
 MTords, according as vowels or consonants are used to represent 
 the figures, or begin the words, thus : 
 
 tel 
 
 buf alf 
 
 ni ola 
 
 325 
 
 154, or 154; 
 
 93,451. 
 
 idu 
 
 bio alo 
 
 out olb. 
 
 This variety gives scope for choice in the formation of 
 words; so that such terminations and combinations may be 
 made use of, as by their singularity will be best. remembered, 
 or which may be most adapted to the thing by any accidental 
 relation or allusion, 
 
 TABLE L 
 
 General Epochas and JEras, Ecclesiastical and Civil, 
 
 Bef. Christ 
 
 THE CReationofthe WorldCCrofA/*] - - . 4004 
 
 The universal DELuge [D6le^oA; - - . , - 2348 
 
 The Call of Asraham [Ab flnei] - - _ - 192I 
 
 EXodus of the /srae/iVes [Ex o/fia] - - - - 149 1 
 
 The Foundation of Solomon's TEMple [T6m by be] - 1012 
 
 Cybus, or the End of the Captivity [Cyr uts] - - 536 
 
 The Destruction of Tboy [Troy a6ej7] - - - 1183 
 
 The First OLVMpiad [Olym;>0M] ----- 776 
 
 The Building of Rome [Rom ;)M/] - - - - 753
 
 MEMORIA TECHNICA. 365 
 
 Bef. Chmt. 
 iERa of NABONAssar [iEuabonas^Jop] - , . 74^ 
 The PHiLippick iEra, or the Death of Alexander 
 
 {VhWidol 324 
 
 The ^ra of CoNTRActs, or of the Seleucida, called 
 in the Book of Maccabees, the iEra of the Kingdom 
 of the GreeAs [Contriic ^a^] - - - - - 313 
 
 A.D. 
 
 The DiocLEsian ^ra, or the ^ra of Martyrs [Dio- 
 des e/co] -------.- 284 
 
 The ^ra of the Hegira, or Flight of MAHOMet 
 
 [Mihom audd] -------- 622 
 
 The ^ra of Yfizdegird, or the Persian iEra [Y6z sid'] 632 
 
 The Memorial Lines. 
 
 Cr othf Del etok Ab aneb Ex afna T6m bi/be Cyr uts. 
 T^roy abeit 0\ym pois Kom put & ^nabonispop. 
 Phih'rfo Contrac^ac? 4- D'lodks eko M.ihom audd Y^z sid. 
 
 TABLE II. 
 
 The Regal Table of England since the Conquest, and some 
 of the most remarkable Princes before it. 
 
 Bef. Christ. 
 CASiBELanus chosen chief Commander by the Bri- 
 tains against the Invasion of Julius Casar [Casi- 
 bel W] ---------- 52 
 
 Aft. Christ 
 Queen Bo a oicea, the British Heroine, being abused 
 by the Romans, raises an' Army, and kills 7000 
 [B6adfl2//)] --------- 67 
 
 VoRTiGern, who invited the Saxons to the Assistance 
 of the Britains agabst the Scots and Picts [Vor- 
 Ugfos'] ---------- 446
 
 see 
 
 chronology: 
 
 Aft. Christ. 
 HENoist, the Saxon, who erected the Kingdom of 
 
 Kent, .the first of the Heptarch}' [Heiig^w/] - - 455 
 King Art Hur, famous for his powerful Resistance and 
 
 Victories over the Saxons [ Arth lqf\ - - - 514 
 EcBErt, who reduced the Heptarchy, and was first 
 crowned sole Monarch of England [Egbe kek] - 828 
 ALFREd, who founded the University of Oxford 
 
 [Alfr^Aye] *_ _ _ _ 872 
 
 CANUte, the Dfl we [Can 6aii] _ - _ _ . I0l6 
 Edward, the CoNFESsor [Conf6s/e] - - . _ 1042 
 
 WiLliam the Co Nq. [Wil-con saw] - - Oc^ 14, 1066 
 
 William RoFus [Ruf^oiJ - - - - Sept. 9. 1087 
 
 HENRy I. [Henrflg] Jug.Q,. 1100 
 
 SxEPHen [Steph6j7J - - - - - Dec. 2. 1135 
 
 HfiNry the SECond [Hensec6i{/'] - - Oc^ 25. 1154 
 
 Richard I. [Riciem] July 6. 1189 
 
 John[Jfff/w] ------- April 6. 1199 
 
 Hnnry the Tuird [Hetht/fls] - - - Oc^ 19- 1216 
 
 Eoward I. [Ed c?oiWJ A'or. IG. 1272 
 
 Envardus sEcundus [Edsef^/?] - - - Julyl. 1307 
 
 EDvardus TERtius [Edter^es] . - - - Jan. 15. 1326 
 
 Richardus sEcundus [Rise^y//)] - - - Jmwc 21. 1377 
 
 HEnry the Fourth [Hefo^oww] - - - Sept. 0.0. 1399 
 HEnry the Fifth [Hefi/aff] - - March 20. 1412 
 
 HENry the sixth [Hensi/ecTj - - - Jug. 31. 1422 
 
 EDvardus QUARtus [Edquaryai/z] - - March 4. 1460 
 
 Edward the Fifth "^ C Jpril 9- 1483 
 
 Richard III. I Lfc-h-KoAf] - - ^ J,,;,e 22. 1483 
 
 HENricus SEPtimus [Hensepy^V] - - -^tig. 22. 1485 
 HENricus octav. [Henoc/yn] * - - - Jpril 22. 1509 
 EDvardus sExtus [Edsex/os] - _ - Jan. 28. 1546 
 Mary [Mary /i/(] ----- July 0. 1553 
 
 ELisabeth[ElsM] Not;. 17. 1558 
 
 jAMes I. [Jamsyrf] - - . - March ii. 1602
 
 MEMORIA TECHNICA. S67 
 CaroIus primus [Caroprim se/] March 27. 1625 
 
 CaroIus sEcundus [Carsec soA;] - - Jan. 30. 1648 
 
 Jamcs II. [Jam.se jf] ----- Feb. 6, 1684 
 
 WiLliam and Mary [WilsefA:] - - - Feb. 13. 1688 
 
 ANne [An pi/b] __---- March 8. 1701 
 
 Gfiorge I. [G'eobo] . . - - - -^ug. 1. 1714 
 
 GEorge 11. [G'iosec dot] - - - - Jwne 11. 1727 
 
 GEorge III. [Geoter sy] - - - - Oc^ 25. 1760 
 
 The Memorial Lines. 
 
 Casibe lud Boadawp Vortigybs Uengful & Arlhlqf. 
 Egbe At/c Alfre kpe Can 6aM Conf6sye Wilcon sai^. 
 
 RufA-oi & Hcurag. 
 
 Steph bil & Heus6c Z>/^ Ric bein J aw Heth das & Ed- 
 
 Edse(yp Edtef^e* Hise toip Hefo #omw .HefiyoJque. ,. 
 Hensiye^ F,dqueiTfauz Esi-RoA:f Hens^p feil Henoc/yn. 
 Edsex /os Mary lut Eh luk Jam si/d Oaroprim se/. 
 Carsec sok Jam seif Wilseik An pi/b Geo bo-doi-sy. 
 
 N. B. After Canute inclusive, One Thousand is to be 
 added to each. It was thought unnecessary to express it, it 
 being a thing in which it is impossible that any one should 
 mistake. 
 
 TABLE III. 
 
 Chronologieal Miscellanies since the Conquest. 
 
 ' Aft. Christ. 
 
 Jerusalem regained from the Turks, and Goofrey of 
 
 BuLloigne made King of it [Godbulwow] - - 1099 
 The iNQUTsition first erected against the Albibigenses 
 
 [Inquisffed] ]222 
 
 The Confirmation of Magna CnARxa by King Henry 
 
 III. [Chart eell 1225
 
 368 CHRONOLOGY. 
 
 Aft. Chrint. 
 Wat TvLer's Rebellion suppressed [Tyh7:o] - - 1381 
 Jack Cadk's Rebellion suppressed [Cade^^] - - 1450 
 The Mariner's Com pass found out [Compaf z] - 1302 
 GuNPOwder invented in Germany by a Monk 
 
 [Gnp^{/b] 1344 
 
 The Invention of Pr IN ting [Prin/y/bw] - - - 1449 
 Christopher CoLUMbus, a Native oi Genoa, discovers 
 
 Cuba and Hispanio/a [Colum bonf} _ _ - 1493 
 
 MARtin LuTHer begins to preach in Gerwzfl;/y against 
 Indulgencies, and other Errors of the Church of 
 
 Rome [MarAuih lap] 1517 
 
 The Name of PROxestants first began on Occasion of 
 the Protestation the Lutherans made against a De- 
 cree of the Chamber of Spire against them [Prot- 
 
 alen'] - _ - . 1509 
 
 The SMALCALdan League, or Agreement made be- 
 tween the Protestants of Germany for their mutual 
 Defence at Smalcdid [Smalcal/oz] - - - - 1540 
 The Council of TrenI began Dec. 13. [Tren-dec- 
 
 at-alfu] 1545 
 
 The MASsacre of Protestants at PARis [Maspar aloid'\ 1 572 
 The UNited provinces, under the Protection of WU- 
 lUm, Prince of Orange, throw off the Spanish 
 Yoke [Un-p /om] -------- 1579 
 
 The Spanish In vasion [Sp-invwAX] - - - . 1588 
 The GunpowDer Treason [Powdsy/] - - - i605 
 
 The famous Rebellion at Naples, on Occasion of the 
 grievous Excises, headed by MassanelIo [Masa< 
 nelsop] ---------- 1647 
 
 Oliver CROMwell usurps the Government of England, 
 
 under the name of Protector [Crom sli] - - - 1653 
 The Island jAMAica in America, taken by the Eng- 
 lish [Jamaica^//] .------ 1655 
 
 CHOMWelli Mors [Crom-mor sw/c] - -. - - 1658 
 GiBRAltar taken by the English [Gibrapro] - - 1704
 
 MEMORIA TECHNICA. 569 
 
 The Memorial Lines. 
 God-hu\ nou Chart ee^ ln(\uis ded Tylika Cade^y. 
 Comp atze Gunp atfo Prin afon atque Coluni bont. 
 Mar-luth lap Prot alen Smalcal loz Tren-dec at-alfu. 
 Mas-par a /oic? Un-p/dm Sp-in/e^Vl: Powd sy/ Masanelso^. 
 Croms/i Jamaica?/// Crom-mor smA: capta Gibra J9Z0. 
 N. B. A Thousand is to be added, as above, where it is not expressed. 
 
 TABLE IV. 
 
 Grecian Lawgivers, Philosophers, and principal Poets, 
 
 Bef. Christ. 
 
 Lvcurgus born [Lycwes] -___. qqQ 
 
 Draco [Dra sflfo] -------- 624 
 
 Solou died [So Imi] - - - - - - - 559 
 
 PYTHAGoras died, aged 80 [Pyth^g/^5] - - - 506 
 
 EucLid the Geomet. fl. [Euchiatt] - - - _ 306 
 
 SocRates died [Socrinw] -__-__ ggg 
 
 Xenophoh died [Xenophf/ow] ----- 359 
 
 PLAto died [Pla^o/c] ------- 348 
 
 Diogenes died, aged 90 [Dio^ef] - _ . _ 323 
 
 ARistotle died, aged 63 [Aris^et/] - - - - 322 
 
 Epicurus died, aged 72 [Epicudpa] - - - - 271 
 
 ARCHimedes died [Archi(/arf] - - - - - 212 
 
 Linus and Orpheus [TJinadka'] - - - - -1281 
 
 Ho Mer died [Horn wflrf] - - - - - - 912 
 
 Archilochus [Archilochu sAam] - - _ - QqQ 
 
 Sappho [Sapphs^rf] - - - - _ . _ 602 
 
 ANAcreon [Andc/oMC?] ------- 592 
 
 ^sCHylus born [^schie/] - - - - - - 525 
 
 PiNDar died, aged 80 [Piud/oz] ----- 440 
 
 SoPHOCLQ^ boru [Sophoclozoi] - - - - - 407 
 
 The Memorial Lines. 
 Lycnes "Diksdo Solun Pythag /^s Eucl wm Socreww. 
 Xenoph ihu Pla tok Dio tet Aris ted Epicu dpa. 
 Archi dad Linadka Homnad & Archilochu 5A;aM. 
 Sapphsyci 8c Auic loud Msch lei P'vaAfoz Sophoclo^of, 
 vol. I. 2 b
 
 K-'. 
 
 CHAP. XXV. 
 
 CHRONOLOGY, 
 
 Continued, 
 
 Clironologiral Tables Playfair's Blair's Tytlert Lenglct du Fresnuy 
 Importance of Mcdallic Scieuce to history Antiquities. 
 
 One of the most obvious contrivances to reduce History 
 into a short compass, and to make an entire coin-se of it easy 
 of apprehension, and at the same time to observe a proper 
 distinction between the parts of it, has been by Chronological 
 Tables. These would indeed be of great use, if they con- 
 sisted of nothing more than an enumeration of the capital 
 events in history, brought together promiscuously, as it were, 
 without any distinction of kingdoms, regard being only had to 
 the order of time in which the events happened, because wc 
 thereby see the principal things that history exhibits, and from 
 the dates annexed to each article, can readily form an idea of 
 the interval of time between each of them. Sucli is the Chronicle 
 prefixed to Sir Isaac Newton's Chronology ; and such also is the 
 large table, or series of remarkable events in Dr. Plajfair's 
 Chronology. This table, which extends from the Creation of 
 the world to the year 17B2 inclusive, is by no means the most 
 valuable part of the volume, which as a whole may b 
 considered as a treasury of chronological knowledge, more 
 ample and judicious than any that has even yet appeared. It
 
 CHRONOLOGICAL TABLES. 371 
 
 Unites the advantages of many diflferent systems, and selects 
 from them what is most valuable, while at the same time it 
 combines them with so nmch skill, as justly to claim the praise 
 of originality. The author is various without being perplexed, 
 extensive without being superficial, and accurate without 
 being tedious. 
 
 To return to chronological tables : besides a distinct view 
 of the succession of events in diflferent histories, it is an 
 advantage to have in separate columns, an account of great 
 men in arts, or arms, which each age has produced : and 
 likewise in other columns, a variety of dates corresponding to 
 the most important aeras, to save the reader the trouble of re- 
 ducing the different methods of computation to one another. 
 These advantages are combined in Dr. John Blair's tables, 
 which, however, diflFer according to the period of which they 
 treat: to take, as an example, the fi^fth century before Christ: 
 the first four columns give the corresponding years of the Julian 
 period, the aeras of Nabonassar, the Olympiads, the 
 building of Rome, and of the years before Christ: the next five 
 columns point out the reigning kings of Persia, Macedon, and 
 Lacedemon, and High Priests of the Jews : then follow co- 
 lumns containing the names and descriptions of illustrious 
 men : remarkable events and the names of Statesmen, 
 Warriors, &c. 
 
 Dr. Blair, in speaking of his own work, says, " The ancient 
 Chronology has been digested in the tables, according to the 
 Hebrew text, and agreeably to the system of Archbishop 
 Usher ; though it is proper to observe, that we do not assume 
 the earlier dates of years, as if they could be demonstrated 
 mathematically. For as we only prefer them, from their being 
 more generally received than any other, amidst a vast uncer- 
 tainty of no less than three hundred diflferent opinions, about the 
 exact year of the creation, we therefore choose to decline any 
 controversy upon points, where tKe data are so few, and the 
 range of hypothesis is so unlimited. And we may be the easier 
 satisfied on this head, if we consider, that neither religion nor 
 
 2 B 2
 
 372 CHRONOLOGY. 
 
 history, are fundamentally concerned, in precisely fixing the 
 times of such remote antiquity. 
 
 The tables of Dr. Blair reach to 1753 inclusive, and 
 blank spaces are left, that the student may continue them to 
 the beginning of the present century, and by the aid of another 
 leaf, properly ruled, he may, and the exercise will be highly 
 useful, bring them down to the present eventful period. The 
 author has given three indices, one of the Emperors, Kings, 
 High Priests, Caliphs, Popes, Men of Learning, Statesmen, 
 Warriors, See. in an alphabetical order, with references to the 
 preceding plates : the other two are alphabetical indices to the 
 remarkable events before and after the Christian aera, witli 
 constant references likewise to the plates. 
 
 As however the Chronology of Playfair, and the Tables of 
 Blair, are scarce and expensive works, we can recommend as 
 a succedaneum, the chronological table attached to the second 
 volume of Ty tier's Elements of General History. The plan 
 of this table is as follows. In order to give a distinct view of 
 the succession of princes in the chief empires or kingdoms, 
 without employing different columns, the series of the sove- 
 reigns of the several nations is distmguished by their being 
 printed in different typographical characters. 
 
 To the foregoing works in Chronology we may add a work 
 which, in the course of our reading, we have found extremely 
 useful, viz. " Tablettes Chronologiques de I'Histoire Univer- 
 selle, &c. 8cc. Par M. L'Abbe Lenglet du Fresnoy," in two 
 volumes; the first contains Ancient, and the second, Modem 
 history. The edition which we have been accustomed to 
 make use of, was corrected and revised by J. L. Barbeau de 
 la Bruyere, in 177^. To the first volume are prefixed, (1) A 
 preliminary discourse on the method of studying History (2) 
 A long list of books, necessary in the study of history, accom- 
 panied with judicious observations (3) A sketch of Chro- 
 nology and of the different modes of reckoning (4) A chro- 
 nological series of the eclipses mentioned by ancient authors. 
 
 Of Coins and Medals. There are few studies of more
 
 COINS AND MEDALS. 373 
 
 importance to tlie study of history, than that of medals. The 
 sole evidence we can have of the veracity of an historian, de- 
 pends on such collateral documents as are evident to every bo- 
 dy, and cannot be falsified. In modern \imes, these are 
 found in public memoirs, instructions to ambassadors, and 
 state papers, to which we have already referred in Chap. xvii. 
 Such kind of memorials, are however, subject to various acci- 
 dents, and being attached to the countries in which they were 
 first published, cannot give to the world at large that perfect 
 and entire satisfaction, which ought to be the result of genuine 
 history, so that more durable and widely diffused monuments, 
 are still to be wished for. Such in fact, are coins and me- 
 dals : they are portable and infallible documents of the truth, 
 capable of being diffused over all countries in the world, and 
 of remaining through the latest ages. The materials of both 
 are similar, and the events they record are single and remark- 
 able. The small size of a coin does not admit of its being so 
 circumstantial as a monument, and it is more liable to be lost ; 
 but on the other hand, it is more capable of being concealed, 
 and is not exposed to the injuries of the weather; and as 
 numbers are struck at the same time, they stand a fairer 
 chance of being seen by posterity. Though we may be more 
 liable to be imposed upon by pretended antiques, this does not 
 affect the historian ; for if the new ones be exact copies of an- 
 cient coins, they corrupt no history, and it cannot be worth a 
 person's while to coin a piece, whose known existence has not 
 acquired a considerable degree of reputation. 
 
 The original and primary use of coins, is not to be men- 
 tioned among the direct methods of recording events ; for all 
 the ^cient coins, which have now obtained the denomination 
 of medals, were nothing more than the stamped coins of ai;- 
 cient nations. The monumental use, however, of such portable 
 pieces of metal, struck by the direction of the state, were so 
 very obvious, as to lead, at an early period, to the double use of 
 them. Of the impressions of the Crasi, so called from Croe- 
 sus, the first prince whose money is mentioned by historians,
 
 374 CHRONOLOGY. 
 
 we know little"; but the Latins coined their first money with 
 the head of Saturn on one side, and the figure of a ship on the 
 other, in memory of his coming to Italy by sea ; and upon 
 every new and remarkable event, and upon the accession of a 
 new magistrate in the Roman empire, the dies of their coins 
 were changed, to take proper notice of that new circumstance. 
 
 So great a number of events have been recorded by ancient 
 medals, and so great has been the attention and care of mo- 
 derns, in collecting and preserving them, that they now give 
 great light to history, in confirming such passages, as are true 
 in old authors, in ascertaining what was before doubtful, and 
 in recording such as were omitted. 
 
 It must be observed, that the Greek coins do not shew the 
 dates of events, though they illustrate the chronology of the 
 reigns. This defect is supplied by those of Rome, which 
 commonly mark the date, giving on the reverse, the represen- 
 tation of some grand event. Medals therefore may be said 
 to afiford the most authentic documents of the Roman history, 
 in particular, that could have been invented by man. The 
 histories of Nerva and Trajan are much better elucidated by 
 medals than by authors ; for the history of Suetonius ends 
 with Domitian, and the " Historiae Augustas Scriptores" be- 
 gin with the reign of Adrian, so that the reigns of the two 
 emperors just mentioned, are almost unknown. 
 
 The study of medals may therefore be regarded as of the 
 greatest importance in the study of History. In some instan- 
 ces, as we have remarked, they furnish the principal pr^of of 
 hbtoric truth. Their evidence reaches to the most remote 
 ages, and the most remote countries. It is remarkable, that 
 history scarcely makes any mention of Balbec, or Palmyra, 
 >Vhose ruins are so famous, and we have little knowledge of 
 them, but what is supplied by inscriptions. It is by this 
 means that M. Vaillant has disentangled a history, that was 
 lost to the world before his time. In his learned work, 
 printed at Paris in 1681, he has fixed the dates, and arranged 
 the order of events in ancient historians, by means of these in*
 
 COINS ANT) MEDALS. 375 
 
 fallible vouchera. Thus he was enabled to ascertain to a very 
 great degree of accuracy, the chronology and progress of 
 events of three of the most important kingdoms in the ancient 
 world, viz. those of Egypt, Syria, and Parthia. Father 
 Hardouin, Norris, and Bayer, have pursued the same plan, t 
 which might be added many others. 
 
 All the principal events of the reign of Lewis XIV. have 
 been recorded in a set of medals, avowedly struck for that pur- 
 pose. But the inconvenience attending modem medals is, 
 that not being used as the current coin of any state, and being 
 made of costly materials, they are confined to the cabinets of a 
 ew persons. 
 
 Besides its service to history, the science of medals is of 
 considerable use to geography and natural history, to the illus- 
 tration of ancient writers, to architecture, and to the knowledge 
 of ancient monuments, busts, statues, ceremonies, &c. in all 
 which views its utility is well illustrated, by examples in Mr. 
 Pinkerton's '* Essay on Medals, or Introduction to the Know- 
 ledge of Ancient and Modern Coins and Medals." This au- 
 thor has also shewn the connexion of the study of medals with 
 the fine arts of poetry, painting, sculpture, and architecture. 
 But these are subjects not connected with this part of our 
 work. It is sufficient therefore that we recommend the reader, 
 if he wish to become acquainted with the science of medals ge- 
 Berally, to study with care, the essay just referred to, in which 
 he will either find every thing that he can require, or be di- 
 rected to all the best works on the subject which are extant. 
 To the mere English student, Clarke's " Connexion of the 
 Roman, Saxon, and English coins," will be extremely useful. 
 To which may be added, Snelling's " Views of English Money," 
 and Folke's '* Table of English Silver Coins, from the Con- 
 quest," &c. Ducarel's " Letters on Anglo-Gallic Coins" are 
 interesting to all who are concerned in the ancient glory of this 
 country. On the Scottish coins, the only books are those of 
 Anderson and Suelling, and the Irish are described by Simon, 
 in his " Historical Essay on Irish Coins," published at Dubliu
 
 ^ 376 CHRONOLOGY. 
 
 # in 1749, to which, in 1767, a supplement was added by another 
 hand. 
 
 Antiquities. Tliis term implies all testimonies, or authei^-' 
 tic accomits, that have come down to us, which illustrate either 
 the particular or universal history of ancient nations. Accord- 
 
 H^ ' ing to Lord Bacon, antiquities may be considered as the 
 wrecks of history, collected from the various sources to which 
 we have already referred, and in this view of the subject, the 
 study of antiquities is not only closely allied to the study of 
 history, but naturally leads one to ascertain the commencement 
 and early epochas of all natiuus, whether ancient or modern. 
 Many writers have thought it sufficient to inquire into, and in- 
 vestigate the ancient remains of Greece and Rome, but others 
 have included in this department of science, the antiquities of 
 
 * the Jews, Egyptians, Phoenicians, Carthaginians, and other 
 
 nations, mentioned in ancient histoiy. We shall give an out- 
 line of the subject, taken chiefly from an article, compiled by 
 the present writer some years ago, for another work. Tlie 
 ^ most that can be aimed at in this place, is to excite the curio- 
 
 sity of young persons, and direct them to objects that may en- 
 gage their attention, and to authors most likely to furnish in- 
 formation, under the several heads of inquiry and research. 
 
 The history and antiquities of nations and societies, have 
 been objects of inquiry, as they enable the mind to separate 
 truth from falsehood, and tradition from evidence, to establish 
 what had probability for its basis, or to explode what rested 
 only either in the vanity or prejudices of the inventors and 
 propagators : of this we have a striking instance in the Chal- 
 deans, who pretended to astronomical observations of 500,000 
 years standing. They mention the king who reigned over 
 them at the time of the deluge, to whom they attribute 
 several things which we ascribe to Noah ; from whence it is 
 assumed that the fundamental facts in their history, and in 
 that of the Jews, are the same. 
 
 Moreover, the Chaldaic antiquities of Berosus are lost, ex- 
 cept the fragments that have been collected by Joseph Sca- 
 
 i^:
 
 ANTIQUITIES. 377 f 
 
 liger, and Fabricius. To supply the chasm, Annius Viterbo, ^ 
 
 a Dominican monk, towards the close of the fifteenth century, 
 forged the work of Berosus, which he published at Rome, in 
 1 498. He was not satisfied with the first forgery, but pro- 
 duced a supplement to Berosus, supposed to have been writ- 
 ten by Manetho, containing details of what had happened, 
 from the time of Egyptus, king of Egypt, to the origin of the 
 Roman state. The fraud was detected, and the monk dis- 
 graced. . 
 I. The first traces of' every history were rude and imperfect, 
 which renders the office of the antiquarian of the utmost im- 
 portance to the faithful and diligent historian. The history of 
 the Old Testament is the most ancient well authenticated col- 
 I jA^ lection of facts, that has come down to the present times, 
 ' ^^^ These records go beyond the flood, which is a boundary to 
 
 the annals of every other nation that lays a just claim to ere- 4fl[L 
 dit. The Jews, who are closely connected with this part of 
 history, trace back their ancestry to the common parents of 
 the human race. The antiquities of this wonderful nation, 
 
 have been treated of by numerous writers. The history of 
 their origin, ordinances, and vicissitudes previously to the 
 Christian aera, is to be found in the Old Testament. Their 
 subsequent riiin and dispersion, are predicted by Christ, in the 
 New Testament, and treated of at large by Josephus, who 
 flourished at Rome under Vespasian, Titus, and Doraitian, 
 and who published his great work on the Jewish Arhquitits, 
 during the life and reign of the latter. On the same subj-rt, 
 we have the Thesaurus of Ogolinus, in thirty-four volumes 
 folio, published between the years 1744 to 1760, containing 
 all the best works which previously to that time had appeared, 
 on the manners, laws, rites, and institutions of the Hebrews, 
 amounting in number to nearly five hundred distinct pieces, 
 and many of them elaborate treatises. The most curious col- 
 lection of Hebrew manuscripts in this country, which illustrate 
 the literary antiquities of the Jews, may be found in the Bod- 
 leian library at Oxford. Few of them in point of age go
 
 378 CHRONOLOCY. 
 
 beyond eight hundred years, and of these t'ue most ancient arc 
 said to have been brought b'- Dr. Pocock from Constanti- 
 nople. Of the taste and Ic ."^ing oi the Jews, Dr. Lovvth's 
 Lectures contain the best vie/. 
 
 Tlie antiquities of the Jews, are supposei* to ' e much con- 
 nected with those of Egypt, since Moses, their great lawgiver, 
 was educated in the schools of Egyptian leanfti'tg, and was 
 without doubt deeply conversant in all their sciences. If 
 therefore we <could come to a faithful account of tht antiqui- 
 ties of Egypt, we might hope to attain a.- illuc'.ation of many 
 things belonging to the Jewish economy, both civil and sacred, 
 which are still involved in darkness and mysteryt 
 
 Of Egypt, alas ! once renowned for its laiws, the commerce 
 of her cities, the grandeur of her buildings, and the fertility of 
 territory, little is left to gratify the laudable curiosity of mo- 
 dems. Those M'ho have spent much time and labour, in ap- 
 preciating the worth and merits of the ancients, admit tliat the' 
 earliest nations of the world were fed with th^ produce of 
 j^yptian soil, and enriched with the wealth and wisdom ob- 
 tained in that portion of Africa. Upper Egypt furnished the 
 materials of marble and porphyry, with which the most stu- 
 pendous works of art were reared : and to Hermes Trisme- 
 gi3tus, or as he is sometimes called, Thoih, , -e ascribed 
 among the Egyptians, the inventions of chief use in human 
 life, ^rheir priests maintained, that from the hieroglyphic cha- 
 racters upon the pillars which he erected, and the sacred 
 books, all the philosophy and learning of the world has been 
 derived. ^ 
 
 Egypt seems itself to have been indebted for its original 
 population to the northern parts of Arabia and Syria, the 
 Egyptians and Abyssinians having been always wholly distinct 
 from the native nations of Africa. The Copts, or original in- 
 habitants, it has been observed by travellers, have no resem- 
 blance whatever to the negro features or form ; but a strong 
 likeness may be traced between the make of the visage in the 
 modern Copts, and that presented in the ancient mummiet),
 
 r-. f' 
 
 i>miiliiig;;, ami statues. Their Cv,niplexion, like that of the 
 Arabs, la -f a dusky brown. It is represented of the same 
 colour in the paintings which may be seen in the tombs of 
 Thebes. The -jhit. ntiquities are the pyramids, and the 
 tombs near Thebes, 4 -eceinth- uisclosed, with many ruins of 
 tempi , and otuer' >maihs of ancient cities. Dr. W. .te, in 
 tl; " Eg^ptiaca," a work which contains much valuable infor- 
 mation on tb^ srbjeci, 3ays, the t > brated column ascribed toj 
 Ponipey, onip/h iited r space opposite to the temple of Sera- 
 pis, in which was. a great pub'^c library. Besides thejincient 
 remains already noticed, we may mention the col'ssal sphynx, 
 Cleopatra's needle, the marble sarcophagus, reputed to be 
 Alexander's toi d, and the triple inscription from Kosetta, in 
 ^ the hieroglyphic, the vernar kr Egyptian, and the Greek cha- 
 racters. The wptf s on Tgyptian antiquities are very nume- 
 rous. Among the ancients may be ix>ttd Herodotus, Pausa- 
 nias, Strabo, Diodorus Sictdus, and Plutarch. Herodotus, 
 Thales, aad Pythagoras, were initiated into all the mysteries^ 
 of the Egyptian priests. The mythology of the countr;^ is 
 fully explained in Joblonskis " Pantheon Egyptiacum." On 
 the Egypt of modern times we have the works of Pocock, 
 Niebuhr, Sonnini, and Dei 'm, wb^ch may be consulted with 
 Cf^vantage. Greaves and Nordon have written on the pyra- 
 mids, and the mummies are described by the celebrated 
 Kircher. 
 
 For the illustraticw of the antiquities of India, the accessible 
 materials are less numerous. To Sir William Jones we are 
 much indr')ted for useful and highly valuable information on 
 this subject. Mr. Halhed, i. 177G, in the code of Gentoo 
 Laws, gave tho first specimen which appeared of the early 
 wisdom of the Indians, and their extensive skill in jurispru- 
 dence. In the year 1785, the attention of the world was 
 roused by the publication of the Bhagvat Geeta, edited by 
 Mr Wilkins, which was said to contain all the grand mysteries 
 of the Hindoo religion, and laid claim to the antiquity of 4000 
 years. Other works of ' high reputation have succeeded,
 
 I 
 
 .^SO CI1R0N0L0G\. 
 
 among which are the " Indian Antiquities" of the Rev. Mr. 
 IMaurice. From Sir William Jones's papers published in the 
 " Asiatic Researches," much solid information on the same 
 subject, may be obtained in a short compass. By that 
 great man, a society was formed for inquiring into tlxe history, 
 antiquities, arts, sciences, and literature of Asia ; and having 
 4|bunded the institution, he gave it celebrity by his own admi- 
 ^^tible discourses^ to which our readers arc referred for much 
 valuable mformation on every thing curious relating to India 
 and its iuiiabitants. 
 
 The remains of architecture and sculpture seem to prove 
 au early connexion between India and Africa. Of the ancient 
 arts and manufactures of this widely extended country, little 
 is known, excepting the result of the Indian loom and needle. 
 The Hindoos boasted of three inventions, viz. tlie method of 
 instruction by *' apologues," " the decimal scale," and the 
 famous " game of chess ;" and it is thought, that if their nu- 
 merous works on grammar, rhetoric and music, which are 
 even now extant, could be explained in-some language gene- 
 rally known, it would be found that they had still higher preten- 
 sions to the praise of a fertile and inventive genius. 
 
 Of the antiquities of Greece and Rome, much has been 
 written that merits the attention of the student in literature : 
 these are subjects, in which every well educated youth becomes 
 conversant at an early period. They are taught in all our clas- 
 sical schools, as necessary to the elucidation of those works 
 that are read in the attainment of the ancient languages. 
 Potter on the Greek Antiquities, and Kennet and Adams on 
 those of Rome, are familiar to every ear : in their kind they 
 are truly respectable, though they may be regarded only as 
 elementary treatises, calculated rather to excite a taste for the 
 study, than to satisfy the inquirer in pursuit of knowledge. 
 
 The first accounts of Greece, are derived from ages long 
 before the common use of letters in the country, so that it is 
 difficult tQ distinguish where fable concludes, and real history 
 begins. The antiquities of such a country, which became in
 
 KJ 
 
 "S* 
 
 ANTIQTJlTIliS. 381: 
 
 after ages so illustrious in the annals of mankind, cannot fail 
 to liave excited a considerable degree of interest in every age : 
 they have accordingly been carefully and minutely investigated 
 by writers, celebrated alike for their erudition and industry. 
 Of these we can enumerate but a small portion, in comparison 
 of the many djat have treated on the subject. Bishop Potter, 
 to whom we have already referred. Bos, and others, have 
 drawn up systems or abridgments of the whole, or at least 
 of whatever relates to the religion, the gods, the vows, and the 
 temples of Greece : on the public weal and magistraqn^ . Sle- 
 phanus and Van Dale are well worthy of notice : on the laws 
 and punishments of G reece, we have Meursius and Petit : ou 
 military concerns, Arrian and iElian are well known : on their 
 gjninastic art and exercises, Joubert and Faber may be men- 
 tioned : on the theatres and scenic exhibitions, Scaliger and 
 the Abbe Barthelemy have written : besides these, we have 
 many writers on their entertainments, on their marriages, the 
 education of their children, and their funeral ceremonies* 
 The best relics which display the former splendour of the 
 Grecian states, have been preserved by Stuart in his Athens : 
 in the Ionian Antiquities, and in the Voyage Pittoresque de 
 la Greece. The finest specimens of its sculpture in this coun- 
 try, are to be found among the Townley marbles : and of its 
 coinage, in the cabinet of Dr. Hunter. 
 
 " Nothing", says Dr. Adams, in the preface to his Roman 
 Antiquities, " has more engaged the attention of literary men, 
 than to trace from ancient monuments the institutions and 
 laws, the religion, the manners and customs of the Romans, 
 under the general name of Roman Antiquities. Scarcely on 
 any subject have more books been written, and many of them 
 by persons of distinguished abilities," We may, as a guii^e to 
 the student, enumerate the writers from whom Dr. Adams 
 chiefly compiled his own work, as these will be the best au- 
 thorities for those persons who would enter deeply into the 
 study. To Manutius, Brissonius, and Middleton, he was in- 
 elebted for his facts relating to the business of the senate : to
 
 3S2 CHRONOLOGY. 
 
 Pignorius, on slaves: to Lidonius, and Grucchius, Manutiuj, 
 Huber, Gravina, Merula, Heineccius, for what relates to the 
 assemblies of the people, the rights of citizens, the laws and 
 judicial proceedings : with respect to the duties and privileges 
 of magistrates, the art of war, the shows of the circus, and the 
 feats of gladiators, he had recourse to Lipsius : to Sheflfer he 
 applied for information on naval affairs and carriages : to 
 Kermannus, on funerals: to Arbuthnot, on coins: to Donalus, 
 on the city : to Turnebus, Salniasius, Grasvius, Gronovius, 
 Mont&ucon, Gesner, and others, upon different subjects scat- 
 tered through his work. To these may be added one of the 
 oldest authors on the subject, viz. Dionysius Halicarnassus, 
 who traced the origin of the Romans with great fidelity, back 
 to die remotest ages. His accounts are generally preferred to 
 those of Livy, because they are more ample, and his facts are 
 described with more particulars ; and on the ceremonies, wor- 
 ship, sacrifices, manners, customs, discipline, policy, courts, 
 laws, &c. he is perhaps the most authentic writer. 
 
 A correct view of the antiquities of Britain, from the earli- 
 est period to the end of Henry VIII th's reign, may perhaps 
 be collected from Dr. Henry's History, and the writers which 
 he refers to, will present the reader with the most authentic 
 sources of inquiry. In connexion with the early history of the 
 Britons, we must not forget the Druids, who have deservedly 
 attracted much curiosity, and whose customs have excited great 
 research, but it would be erroneous to impute to them the 
 whole of our earliest remains. Juhus Caesar took considerable 
 pains to learn every particular relating to the Druids, and he 
 states it as his opinion, that their religion and customs origin- 
 ated in Britain. In justification of this opinion it has been 
 urgid, that there is not a single authority for the existence of 
 Druidism any where but in Celtic Gaul^and part of England. 
 Ih one place, however, the historian and warrior speaks of it 
 as a recent institution, which circumstance has led some au- 
 thors to suppose 4t might have come to our ancestors from 
 Phcenicia ; but for this there is little foundation. It does nut
 
 ANTIQUITIES. SSS 
 
 appear that Caesar was himself a witness to the rites of the 
 Druids in Britain, and Tacitus is the first author who notices 
 them, for the Romans did not meet with any till they had ad- 
 vanced far into Wales. 
 
 Of the structures erected by the Britons, Abury and Stone- 
 henge may be deemed the principal. Relics of a smaller 
 kind are continually discovered a few feet beneath the surface 
 of the earth. On these, Stukely and Rowland are the best 
 authorities : the former has written a volume on Abury, a 
 temple of the Druids, in which is a particular account of the 
 first and patriarchal religion, and of the peopling of the British 
 islands : besides his larger work, intitled " Itinerarium Curio- 
 sum," being an account of the antiquities, 8cc. observed in 
 travels through Great Britain, published in 1724. For the 
 history of the Britons under the Roman Government, Hors- 
 ley's Britannia Romana is a work that may be depended upon.' 
 With respect to the antiquities of the Saxons, the illuminated 
 manuscripts are the best records of their manners in the diffe- 
 rent centuries, and the most interesting information respecting 
 them, has been collected by Turner and Strutt. The best 
 collection of Saxon coins is in the British Museum, and of 
 .manuscripts in the same place, and in the Bodleian Library. 
 Mr. King has treated of their military antiquities in his His- 
 tory of Castles ; and independently of our works on topogra- 
 phy, which are numerous, and many of them of the first res- 
 pectability, and which throw considerable light on the antiqui- 
 ties of the country, we may refer to the works of Camden, ' 
 Strutt, and Gough, to which may be added the whole series 
 of the Gentleman's Magazine, and Pinkerton's Geography. 
 
 As the antiquities of the United Kingdom are in some respects 
 connected with those of the Danes, and other northern nations, 
 we may suggest to the reader what are the principal remains of 
 those people, as a clue to his future inquiries. 
 
 The ancient monuments of Denmark and Norway are 
 chiefly Runic, though it is far from certain at what period the 
 nse of Runic characters extended so far north. Circles of up-
 
 584 CHRONOLOGY. 
 
 right stones are common in all the Danish dominions, the 
 islands, Norway and Iceland, in which latter country their ori- 
 gin is perfectly ascertained, as some were erected even in re- 
 cent times of the Icelandic republic, being called domh-ring, 
 or circles of judgment. 
 
 Of Sweden the ancient monuments consist chiefly of judi- 
 cial circles, and other erections of unhewn stone, together with 
 remains inscribed with Runic characters, none of which are 
 imagined to have existed longer than the eleventh century. 
 
 In Russia, the ancient monuments are neither numerous, nor 
 aflford much variety. There are to be met with the tombs of 
 their pagan ancestors, containing weapons and ornaments. 
 From tlie writings of Herodotus, we learn that the Scythians 
 regarded the cemeteries of their princes with singular venera- 
 tion ; the Sarmatians or Slavons seem to have imbibed the 
 Same ideas. The idols of Pagan Russia, are sometimes found 
 cast in bronze ; and Dr. Guthrie has given a good account of 
 the Slavonic mythology, to whose " Dissertations sur les An- 
 tiquites de Russie," we refer the reader. 
 
 It is not necessary, nor would it accord with our limits, to 
 go farther into this subject, than to add, that Reland has ex- 
 pressly treated on Sacred Antiquities Fabricius on Hebrew . 
 and Ecclesiastical Antiquities Bingley on Christian Antiquities 
 -Bishop Stillingfleet on the Antiquities of the British 
 Churches Cave' on Apostolic Antiquities Neineccius on 
 such of the Roman as illustrated the civil law Mallet on 
 Northern, and Bishop Kennet on Parochial Antiquities.
 
 CHAP. XXVI. 
 
 ON THE BRITISH CONSTITUTION. 
 
 Civil and political institutions, the growth of time Rise and progress of the 
 British Constitution Romans Picts Saxons Danes Revenues Of 
 the King Parliament divided into Two Houses. 
 
 In the natural world, it seems to be the general ordinance of 
 Providence, that what is remarkable for soUdity and durability, 
 should be slow in growth. While the more succulent plants 
 proceed rapidly to maturity, a long series of years revolves 
 before the oak attains to its appropriate state of perfection. 
 In many instances, the same law appears to be established in 
 the moral world. Civil and political institutions, however 
 skilfully contrived they may seem to be, are seldom the result 
 of a single effort of mind, employed in sketching and completing 
 a pre-conceived plan. These too are generally the growth of 
 time, the products of human skill as exercised at intervals, ac- 
 cording to the course of passing circumstances. 
 
 This is eminently the case with regard to the British Con- 
 stitution. " The wisdom of our ancestors," is an expression 
 familiar to our lips ; and it is indeed to Britons a subject of 
 legitimate pride, that they are descended from forefathers, who, 
 on various occasions, evinced the utmost sagacity in taking ad- 
 vantage of events for the assertion of their rights, and for the 
 promotion of the general welfare. But we shall form a very 
 . VOL. I. c
 
 386 BRITISH CONSTITUTION. 
 
 erroneous judgment, if we imagine that the glorious fabric of 
 our Constitution was organized centuries ago ; or that it was 
 at once erected in all its just proportions. On the contrary, 
 it was raised by almost imperceptible degrees, and happily 
 surviving the period of rudeness and barbarity, it has, from time 
 to time, received those improvements and embellishments, 
 which, in concurrence with the solidity of its foundation, have 
 rendered it the wonder of the civilized portion of the globe. 
 
 A brief, but perspicuous review of those circumstances 
 which have given rise to the happy form of government, un- 
 der which the British Isles have risen to so distinguished an 
 eminence among the nations of the earth, will at once give 
 the clearest view of the principles of our Constitution, and de- 
 monstrate the fallacy of those appeals to fanciful standards 
 and maxims in politics, which have tended to mislead the 
 zeal of party, and to bewilder the minds of honest inquirers 
 after correctness of principle. 
 
 In tracing the rise and progress of the British Constitution, 
 it is necessary to revert to the time when the Romans with- 
 drew from these islands. By the Lords of the World the abo- 
 riginal Britons had been reduced to subjection ; but to com- 
 pensate the loss of independence, they had received from their 
 conquerors the comforts and blessings of civilized life. As, 
 however, the Romans had, during the period of their sove- 
 reignty, monopolized all offices civil and military, and had 
 carefully excluded their British subjects from all participation 
 in the management of public affairs : when the exigencies of 
 the empire induged them to abandon this extremity of their 
 dominions, our unwarlike ancestors became the prey of anar- 
 chy, and gave themselves up to the most abject despair. Of 
 this their weakness, their turbulent neighbours, the Picts and 
 the Scots, eagerly availed themselves, to spread far and wide 
 the ravages of devastation. It must not, however, be supposed, 
 that these barbarian incursions experienced no opposition. 
 Tlie larger landed proprietors, from time to time summoned 
 tiieir dependants to take the field against the common foe.
 
 SAXONS. 387 
 
 and this circumstance gave rise to an influential body of aristo- 
 cracy, from the members of which, upon extraordinary occa- 
 sions, was chosen a chief, who was vested with that degree of 
 temporary power which the exigency might seem to demand, 
 or which his superior abilities might wrest from the suffrages 
 of his compeers. 
 
 One of these chieftains of the name of Vortigern, being 
 hard pressed by the incursions of the Scots and Picts, and lis- 
 tening to the counsels of fear, had recourse to the refuge of 
 weak minds, and adopted the perilous resolution of relying 
 for protection on foreign aid. He accordingly looked for 
 succour to the wilds of Germany ; and at his instance, in the 
 year 449, Hengist and Horsa, twc^ Saxon chiefs, came to tlie 
 assistance of the Britons, at the head of a small band of auxi- 
 liary troops. These were soon followed by numerous bodies 
 of their countrymen, who efFectualiy restrained the northern 
 invaders, but soon turned their arms against those whom they 
 had covenanted to protect; and at the end of about onehun> 
 dred and seventy years, in spite of the obstinate resistance of the 
 Britons, the Saxons made themselves masters of the fairest por- 
 tion of the Island. Under their domination were established 
 seven independent principalities, known by the general name 
 of the Heptarchy ; but by a variety of fortunate contingen- 
 ces, in the year 827, these seven principalities were united 
 under the sway of Egbert, when the kingdom then assumed 
 the appellation of England. 
 
 In their native country, the Saxons had been addicted to 
 the pursuits of the pastoral life. For the purpose of aflford- 
 ing mutual assistance and protection, they had been accus- 
 tomed to herd together in rudely fortified villages. The fa- 
 milies of which these villages were composed, being incited 
 by a sense of common interest and common danger, appointed 
 a chieftain, whose sole function was to lead them in war. 
 The determination of affairs, mterestiiig to the welfare of the 
 community at large, was left to a general council, composed 
 of the heads of families, who, on important occasions, assem-
 
 388 BRITISH CONSTITUTION. 
 
 bled for the purpose of free debate, and whose deciidon was 
 final and conclusive. 
 
 This circumstance must be noted as of the utmost import- 
 ance. It had a decisive effect upon the future destinies of 
 our island. For the Saxons brought with them into this 
 country the maxims of civil polity, by which they had been 
 guided in their original establishments. The principles of 
 freedom by which they had been actuated on the shores of 
 the Bailie, they proudly enforced on their own behalf, when 
 they became the masters and possessors of Britain, and these 
 principles, repressed or expanded according to the course of 
 events, have continued to be the animating spirit of our na- 
 tional institutions to the present day. 
 
 The grand circumstance which gives a particular character 
 to political institutions is the tenure and the distribution of 
 property. On the arrival of the Saxon chiefs in Britain, they 
 found the inhabitants of the country much more advanced 
 than themselves in the science and practice of agriculture; 
 and enforcing with their swords the right of the strongest, they 
 took possession of cultivated districts, of which tliey had dis- 
 possessed the former proprietors. By degrees ihey incorpo- 
 rated themselves with the vanquished, and, in consequence of 
 tliis circumstance, and of the country being over-run by a suc- 
 cession of chieftains, followed by their particular partizans, 
 the captured lands were at first seized in comparatively small 
 portions. Of the estates which were thus acquired, the pro- 
 prietors held a part in their own hands other parts they let 
 out to villeins and others they allotted to their relatives and 
 dependents, under the designation of vassals, to be held on 
 the tenure of miUtary service. The lands which were pos- 
 sessed by independent proprietors in their own right, were 
 termed allodial lands, whilst those which were held by vassals, 
 were distinguished by the epithet of feudal; and the posses- 
 sion of lands by these tenures, respectively conferred upon 
 their proprietors the api)ellation of Greater and Lesser Thanes. 
 In this slate of society, the peasantry were for a long pe- 
 /
 
 WITTENAGEMOT. 389 
 
 riod doomed to a condition little short of mitigated slavery. 
 They originally consisted of such persons as had been taken 
 captive during the struggle which took place between the 
 Britons and the Saxons ; and though their situation was gra- 
 dually meliorated, under the appellation of ceorles, or churis, 
 they were left in a great degree subject to the caprice of 
 their lords. 
 
 The measures, adopted by the latter for their mutual 
 defence, gave occasion to a system of internal regulations 
 which continues to modify, at least, the language of the pre- 
 sent day. The association of a few allodial proprietors and 
 their dependents for their common security, gave rise to the 
 institution of Tythings. The connexion of a number of vil- 
 lages, or towns formed upon the same principle, constituted a 
 Hundred; and the association of a reasonable number of 
 Hundreds constituted a Shire. Though these associations 
 originated in military views, they were soon rendered subser- 
 vient to civil purposes, and especially to the administration of 
 justice, and even to the making of legislative provisions ; in 
 which processes, each, in the order in which they have been 
 mentioned, was liable, upon appeal, to the control of the 
 other. 
 
 But all these subordinate courts were subject to the re- 
 straint of a still greater assembly, namely, the Wittenagemot. 
 During the continuance of the Heptarchy, each of the seven 
 kingdoms had its own legislative body, distinguished by that 
 appellation, in which all the allodial proprietors had a right 
 to sit and to deliberate. The powers of the Wittenagemot 
 were ample and extensive. It was authorized to provide for 
 the defence of the country to superintend the coinage to 
 act as a hi^jh court of judicature to decide upon the quarrels 
 which took place between the great lords and, in general, to 
 redress grievances, and to correct abuses in the administration 
 of government. 
 
 As in the rudest state of society occasions must often arise, 
 when it is expedient to concentrate, as it were, the power of
 
 390 BRITISH CONSTITUTION. 
 
 the state, and to delegate to some efficient individual the 
 execution of the general will, this circumstance naturally 
 gives rise to the appointment of a chief magistrate. In the 
 early history of the Anglo-Saxons, tliis magistrate vvas entitled 
 herctoc, or duke, ui place of which appellation, was after- 
 wards assumed that of king. This high distinction was ori- 
 ginally the meed of valour a homage paid to power. Its 
 natural tendency was, to increase the possessions of him who 
 was thus elevated, and to extend his influence. The power 
 of the Saxon kings was, however, limited, and yet it was 
 tolerably extensive. In their own domains their authority 
 was absolute. The command of the troops, and the main- 
 tenance of the police, gave them extensive sway, and their 
 privilege of summoning the Wittenagemot, and presiding over 
 its deliberations, afforded to prudent and politic sovereigns 
 the means of becoming in a manner the directors of its deci- 
 sions in addition to all which, it may be observed, that as 
 their powers were not defined, as occasions arose, they were 
 materially extended^ 
 
 During the period of which we have been treating, the 
 clergy constituted a kind of separate body in the state, pur- 
 suing its peculiar views, and possessing a jurisdiction of its 
 own. 
 
 From the time when Egbert became sole monarch of Eng- 
 land, A. D. 828, to the Norman Conquest, A. D. 1066, the 
 English were engaged in a course of hostilities with the 
 Danes. Though these hostilities retarded the progress of im- 
 provement, and though the country was subdued by Canute 
 the Great, the victor made no alteration in the civil pohty of 
 the kingdom. But what was not effected by violence, was 
 brought about by the natural course of events. Bv a certain, 
 but gradual progress of change, after all England fell under 
 the dominion of one sovereign, the bent of civil pohty in- 
 clined to the creation of an aristocracy. This was chiefly oc- 
 casioned by a practice, which now became prevalent, of the 
 smaller allodial lords, for the sake of protection, surrendering
 
 TRIAL BY JURY. 391 
 
 (lieir lands to the more powerful ones, and consenting to hold 
 them as their vassals. Hence the greater nobles, surrounded 
 by their retainers and dependants, became so powerful, that 
 they were not unfrequently enabled to brave the authority of 
 the crown itself. One consequence of this accession of in- 
 fluence to the aristocracy was, that the offices of tythingmarij 
 hundreder, &c. which were formerly elective, became here- 
 ditary, and this circumstance accelerated the conversion of 
 allodial into feudal property. The property, however, which 
 had been thus converted, continued to be hereditary under 
 certain stipulations. Another still more important conse- 
 quence of the changes to which we have been referring, was, 
 that the Wittenagemot, which, on its primitive institution, was 
 numerously attended, became a select body of powerful ba- 
 rons, who, whenever under the influence of the " esprit de 
 corps," they made common cause with each other, exercised 
 a degree of authority formidable both to the people and the 
 king. 
 
 Among the most valuable of the political institutions of 
 our Anglo-Saxon ancestors, may be mentioned the trial by 
 jury. The precise date of the establishment of this invaluable 
 mode of legal decision is uncertain ; but it may be easily con- 
 ceived, that it would naturally arise from the circumstances 
 of allodial proprietors, who not only felt an interest in the 
 general defence against a common enemy, but also in com- 
 posing, by their personal interference, those disputes which 
 put to hazard the peace and safety of their several com- 
 munities. 
 
 Such is the outline of the civil polity of our Saxon ances- 
 tors. If their institutions are carefully examined, it will be 
 found that they contain excellent principles of government, 
 which were developed and matured in after-times; but we 
 ehall be much mistaken if we imagine, that, in reference to 
 the community at large, they were calculated in any peculiar 
 manner to secure the liberty and rights of mankind. Accord- 
 ing to their provisions, as it has justly been remarked by a
 
 392 BRITISH CONSTITUTION. 
 
 celebrated writer,* " the sovereign was, indeed, at no time 
 invested with absolute power. The supreme authority in 
 the state was originally possessed by a numerous body of 
 landed proprietors ; but the rest of the community were either 
 slaves, or tenants at the will of their master." It is also a 
 circumstance carefully to be noted, that by the natural ten- 
 dency to the conversion of allodial into feudal tenures, the 
 numbers of those who took a share in legislation and govern- 
 ment, towards the end of the Anglo-Saxon dynasty, were con- 
 siderably diminished ; and several of the great lords acquired 
 a degree of power, the abuse of which rendered them rebels 
 to the king, and oppressors of the people. 
 
 One of these, Harold, the son of Earl Godwin, was en- 
 couraged by his numerous retainers to lay claim to the throne 
 which was vacated by the death of Edward the Confessor. 
 
 Upon the particulars of tlie contest between this nobleman 
 and his competitor, William, Duke of Normandy, sumamed 
 the Conqueror, it is inconsistent with the object of this essay 
 to dwell. But the political changes which were effected by 
 tlie accession of the Norman line of kings, claim our especial 
 attention. It has already been remarked^ that immediately 
 before this event, the paramount property of the country had 
 fallen into the hands of a few individuals. Of these, many 
 lost their estates in consequence of the forfeitures which were 
 enforced against the friends of Harold, and against the discon- 
 tented barons, who, from time to time, raised insurrections 
 against the Conqueror. The remainder were so much inti- 
 midated by the growing power of the cro\vn, and so much 
 weakened by their internal dissensions, that they deemed it 
 expedient to throw themselves under the king's protection, 
 and to descend from the rank of allodial proprietors to that of 
 vassals. Thus was the feudal system by degrees completed, 
 and " the whole kingdom was united in one extensive barony, 
 of which the king became the superior, and, in some degree, 
 the ultimate proprietor." 
 
 MUUr,
 
 HEVENUKS OF THE SOVEREIGN. 393 
 
 As wealth constitutes the sinews of power, it is obvious to 
 remark, that when the sovereign thus became the paramount 
 proprietor of the land of the whole realm, his revenues were 
 considerably increased by the casual emoluments, called inci- 
 dents, which constituted a distinguishing feature of the feudal 
 system. The principal of these incidents are, 1 . that of non- 
 entry, or the profit obtained by the king on holding estates, 
 during the interval which sometimes occurred between the 
 death of a vassal and the appearance of his heir. 2. That 
 of wardship, or the emolument derived from the management 
 of the lands which descended to the heir of a former vassal 
 during the period of his non-age. 3. That of marriage, or a 
 pecuniary fee or fine paid by a vassal on his entering into the 
 state of matrimony. 4. That of aids, a benevolence, or a 
 tax which in certain cases the superior had a right to exact, 
 5. That of escheat, or forfeiture of estates on the failure of heirs, 
 or on the neglect of performing covenants. 6. That of the 
 fine of alienation on a premium paid to the lord for the pri- 
 vilege of selling the whole, jor any part of a feudal estate. To 
 these was added, in the reign of Henry II. the Incident of scu- 
 tage, or a sum of money paid by the vassal, for relief from the 
 burden of military service. 
 
 The influence of the crown being thus extended as it were 
 into all the ramifications of the community, it might have 
 been expected that its influence would at an early period have 
 been matured into the despotism of arbitrary power. Such 
 indeed was the natural tendency of its exercise. But this 
 tendency was checked by the dubious title of some of our 
 monarchs, the consideration of which induced them to court 
 the good will of the people at large, by making concessions 
 in favour of public liberty ; and by the feeble character of 
 others, which incapacitated them from resisting even the en- 
 croachment of a turbulent aristocracy. In consequence of 
 the remonstrances of the principal nobility, which were not 
 unfrequently backed by the power of the sword, charters were 
 from time to time granted by our kings, which, though they
 
 394 BRITISH CONSTITUTION. 
 
 were violated without scruple, by active and ambitious princes, 
 operated upon the whole as a check upon the prerogative. 
 Notwithstanding also these charters provided -only for the 
 welfare of the superior ranks of the comnumity, yet as indus- 
 try increased, and arts and manufactures gradually promoted the 
 -accumulation of property in qnarters where it had not antece- 
 dently been found, there was a gradual increase in the num- 
 bers of those who were interested in their provisions. 
 
 The most important changes which took place in con- 
 sequence of the Norman conquest, occurred in the constitution 
 of the great council of the nation. In the reign of William I. 
 the Wittenagemot, which, as has been before observed, 
 consisted of allodial proprietors, was, upon the change of 
 tenures from allodial to feudal, of course abolished, and in 
 its place was instituted the High Court of Parliament, This 
 assembly was composed of the immediate vassals of the crow n, 
 that is to say, of the superior clergy, nobility and great land- 
 holders. It was convened as the Wittenagemot had been, 
 either at the three great festivals of Christmas, Easter and 
 Whitsuntide, or upon particular emergencies. Though it was 
 generally summoned for some express purpose, and though 
 its deliberations were in a great degree regulated and controled 
 by the royal authority ; its influence in public affairs soon 
 became considerable in suggesting improvements in govern- 
 ment, and especially in checking the abuses of administration. 
 
 The powers of the Parliament were indeed for some time 
 vague and unsettled ; and its organization was at first, as might 
 have been expected, extremely imperfect. But in die reign 
 of Edward I. the English government began to be conducted 
 with greater regularity ; and our constitution assumed a more 
 definite form, an improvement for which we are indebted to 
 the progress of civilization, and the diffusion of property. It 
 appears by Domesday book, that in the reign of William I. 
 so extensive were the domains which were allotted to the 
 feudal tenants, who held immediately under the crown, that 
 the number of these lordly vassals did not exceed six hundred.
 
 KNIGHTS OF THE SHIRE. 395 
 
 While this was the case, the business of internal regulation 
 could, without much inconvenience, be transacted by them in 
 person. At least, upon important occasions they could be 
 assembled without difficulty, while the more ordinary business 
 was conducted by committees selected from their number, to 
 which may be traced the origin of our superior courts of 
 law. But various circumstances occurred, by the operation of 
 which, the estates of these overgrown landholders were sub- 
 divided, and conveyed into the possession of more numerous 
 proprietors. Hence by insensible degrees there arose a class 
 of smaller barons, who, not being able to vie with the wealthier 
 nobles in splendour and authority, regarded attendance in 
 parliament, to which, however, at the king's requisition, they 
 were bound, as an inconvenience and a grievance. Thus 
 circumstanced, they no doubt received as a boon from ' the 
 crown, permission to absent themselves as a body, and to send 
 a sufficient number of representatives to discharge the duties 
 of parliament on their behalf. As these representatives would 
 be most conveniently nominated by districts, they were natur- 
 ally referred to the subsisting division of the kingdom into 
 counties, and hence the origin of Knights of the Shire, or 
 the representatives of the minor barons and smaller landholders 
 of the realm. 
 
 In the mean time, by the progress of civilization, agricul- 
 turalists became wealthy ; and as they ceased to make for 
 themselves articles of necessity and luxury, artizans and manu- 
 facturers were collected in towns and cities, some of which, 
 in consequence of the advantages of their situation on the 
 sea-coast, or on the banks of navigable rivers, became flourish- 
 ing by means of commerce. As the avarice of power is 
 ever vigilant, these rising communities soon attracted the notice 
 of the executive government, and were summoned to bear the 
 burden of taxation. Hence, with a view of promoting the 
 facility of paying to the sovereign the revenue which he claim- 
 ed from particular towns, corporations were instituted, which 
 were in a manner responsible to the king for his demands, and
 
 396 BRITISH CONSTITUTION. 
 
 were empowered to make the requisite assessments within 
 tlieir respective limits. And when in process of time extra- 
 ordinary aids were wanted by the crown, these corporate 
 towns or borouglis sent delegates to Parliament, whose prin- 
 cipal business was to report the capacity and the views of 
 their constituents, as to the share which they ought equitably to 
 sustain of the public burdens. Such was the origin of that 
 important branch of the English legislature, the Citizens and 
 Burgesses in Parliament assembled. 
 
 At first the Clergy, the Barons, the Knights of the Shire, 
 and the Burgesses, sat and deliberated in one chamber ; but 
 as it was soon found, that the nobles who sat in their own 
 right, and claimed a general interest in the ordinance of political 
 regulations, were practically upon a very different footing from 
 those whose department was limited to the offer of pecuniary 
 grants, the deputies for boroughs found it expedient to assem- 
 ble in a separate chamber, which was early distinguished by 
 the name of the House of Commons. For some little time 
 after this the Knights of the Shire continued to sit with the 
 Barons ; but soon finding themselves liable to perpetual morti- 
 fication from a proud aristocracy, who looked upon them as 
 greatly their inferiors, they were led to unite themselves with 
 the Citizens and Burgesses, by whom they were regarded with 
 deferential respect. At the same time an union took place in 
 the upper house, between the nobles and the clergy, who had 
 hitherto voted as distinct and separate orders. 
 
 Here then we have a distinct outline of the Constitution of 
 Parliament, as it subsists at this day. And even in many 
 subordinate parts, the resemblance of ancient and modern 
 parliamentary principles is sufficiently striking. At this early 
 period it was the exclusive privilege of the commons to 
 propose taxes, and to impeach the great officers of state who 
 might be guilty of malversation, while it was the exclusive 
 department of the Barons to sit in judgment upon notable 
 state offenders, and in all cases to exercise jurisdiction in the 
 hsX resort, as a court of appeal. It was abo at thb time
 
 KNIGHTS OF THE SHIRE. 597 
 
 sealed, that each house should lake cognizance of all questions 
 touching the rights and immunities belonging to their several 
 orders. 
 
 The principles upon' which the election of representatives 
 of the several boroughs was conducted, varied according to 
 circumstances. In those corporate towns, where opulence 
 was generally diffused, members were returned to parliament 
 by the suffrages of the people at large. In boroughs, in 
 which the bulk of the people were in a poor and servile con- 
 dition, the right of election was vested in a few individuals. 
 
 The knights of the shire, being at first the representatives of 
 the smaller barons, were of course elected by them ; but in 
 process of time a most salutary change was effected in the 
 mode of their appointment, by the enfranchisement of the 
 arriere vassals, or sjich landholders as held their estates not 
 immediately from the crown, but from a subject-superior. 
 
 As the great barons were the most able, so they were 
 seldom unwilling, to restrain the authority of the sovereign. 
 Hence a jealousy naturally arose between the superior nobles 
 and the l^og, which, though productive of mischief in its im- 
 mediate, was useful in its remote effects. For with a view of 
 gaining, as it were, the alliance of a rising power, the princes of 
 the House of Tudor gave franchises to a great number of addi- 
 tional boroughs, which circumstance directly tended to the con- 
 firmation and the increase of popular rights. Nor did the peo- 
 ple make an ungrateful return for the privileges which were then 
 bestowed upon them. Inspired with a natural dislike of their 
 feudal oppressors, they were ever ready to support the regal 
 dignity. Hence were derived great accessions to the power 
 of the crown, the operation of which was signally manifested 
 in the reign of Henry VII. At this period the families of the 
 nobility were exhausted and reduced by the wars, which had 
 so long been carried on between the houses of York and Lan- 
 caster; and as luxury increased in proportion to the increase of 
 trade and commerce, the heads of those families were tempt- 
 ed to supply their wants by the alienation of their estates, the
 
 398 BRITISH CONSTITUTION. 
 
 process of whichwas purposely facilitated by legislative pro- 
 visions made during the reign. But though the power of the 
 crown increased, as that of the aristocracy declined, it must 
 be remarked, that, as Henry VII. did not exercise his autho- 
 rity in an arbitrary and capricious manner, he never exacted 
 loans from his subjects ; and never but twice had recourse to 
 tlie expedient of benevolences. On all other occasions he 
 regularly imposed taxes by the authority of parliament. Be- 
 fore his time, however, a power had been occasionally exer- 
 cised by popular monarchs, of dispensing with laws; and 
 the practice of announcing legal regulations by royal pro- 
 clamations; had been sometimes perverted to the purpose 
 of vesting the legislative authority in the crown alone; but 
 these irregularities were comparatively rare ; and when fit op- 
 portunities occurred, they were condemned by the declarations 
 of the parliament. 
 
 ^
 
 
 CHAP. XXVII. 
 
 BRITISH CONSTITUTION, 
 
 Continued. 
 
 Changes in the Constitution under Henry VIII. Elizabeth James I, 
 Charles I. Cromwell Charles II. James II. William and Mary- 
 Present organization of the British Constitution Regal power. 
 
 In the reign of Henry VIII., the authority of the croWh 
 acquired an almost overwhelming influence. On the annul- 
 ling of the supremacy of the Pope, that monarch was declared 
 "bead of the English church, and was vested with the extensive 
 power which accrued from the disposal of ecclesiastical bene- 
 fices ; in addition to which, his revenues were for a time ma- 
 terially increased by the produce of the forfeited estates be- 
 longing to the monasteries, which his greediness for gain, rather 
 than his religious zeal, prompted him to suppress. It has been 
 remarked, that impetuous as was the temper of Henry, and 
 extravagant as were his claims, he never attempted to raise 
 money upon his subjects without consent of parliament. This 
 remark, however, only points to the fact, that he was not gra- 
 tuitously tyrannical. In his reign, parliaments were humble 
 and complying. It was only requisite that the king's pleasure 
 should be made known to them, and his wishes were iostantlj
 
 400 BRITISH CONSTITUTION. 
 
 gratified. Nay, to such a condition of degradation was the 
 great council of the nation sunk, at this disgraceful period, that 
 in the thirty-first year of this king's reign, it was enacted, " that 
 the king, M'ith the advice of the council, might issue procla- 
 mations, under such penalties as he should think necessary, 
 and that these should be observed, as though they were made 
 by act of parliament." As to the limitation, that " these 
 should not be prejudicial to any person's iiiheritance, offices, 
 liberties, goods, chattels, or life," it was manifestly intended 
 merely as a salvo for the honour of those who passed this in- 
 famous statute ; and was purposely calculated to be nugatory 
 in point of practical effect. 
 
 It was a fortunate circumstance for the inhabitants of these 
 islands, that Henry did not live to consolidate his tyranny, 
 and that the mmority of his son, Edward VI., afforded an 
 opportunity of abrogating all proceedings which tended to 
 countenance the late stretches of prerogative. In the reign of 
 Mary, the general attention was occupied by the struggle which 
 took place between the Roman Catholic and the Protestant 
 religion ; and she happily did not reign long enough to extir- 
 pate either ProtestaiiUsm or liberty, both of which she regard- 
 ed with an evil eye. 
 
 The glorious reign of Elizabeth was, in the main, con- 
 ducted upon popular maxims. Relying, indeed, upon her 
 people in the hour of danger, and finding them eager to sup- 
 port her rights, she had full confidence in their duty and loy- 
 alty, and never scrupled to refer the general affairs of the 
 kingdom to the consideration of parliament. With the legis- 
 lative power of that assembly, in the business of taxes, she 
 never interfered. Of her prerogative, however, she was 
 jealous; and confounding the privilege of the sovereign, to 
 refuse his assent to propositions which had been matured by 
 parliamentary discussion, with the right to discuss matters 
 which might be disagreeable to the ruling powers, she occa- 
 sionally interposed to control the deliberation of both houses, 
 and even went so far as to imprison members, who were per-
 
 UNDER THE STUARTS. 
 
 tinacious in agitating questions, the consideration of wfiicli 
 she had prohibited. These were, gloublless, unjustifiable 
 stretches of power ; and whilst they militated against the rights 
 of the people, evinced tiie necessity of those rights being more 
 strictly defined than they had hitherto been. 
 
 But James 1., on whose head were united the crowns of 
 England and of Scotland, seems to have imbibed the highest 
 prerogative notions entertained by the most tyrannical of his 
 predecessors ; and to have been insensible of that march of 
 mind which was silently, but decisively preparing the way for 
 resistance to arbitrary power. He did not take into his ac- 
 count the settlement of religion, which left his English sub- 
 jects more leisure and tranquillity to regulate their civil con- 
 cerns. He forgot that the very legitimacy of his title to the 
 crown, precluded all fear of that greatest subject of dread to 
 all good citizens, a domestic war. He was not aware that 
 the exercise of theological controversy, had sharpened the 
 acumen of disputants upon politics. He was unconscious of 
 the rapid growth of reason and intellect in his dominions ; and 
 if he were apprized that the example of the United Provinces, 
 had dift'used throughout his dominions a sense of civil rights, 
 he trusted to his sagacity to find out the means of quelling the 
 rising spirit of freedom among his subjects. Hence his inter- 
 course with parliament was unsatisfactory and unprofitable ; 
 and he tried every expedient to conduct the business ot the 
 kingdom, independently of the interference of that assembly, 
 which was, on every occasion of its bemg summoned, found 
 to increase in popularity and power. 
 
 Here it may be expedient to observe, that though it had 
 been provided by a statute of Edward HI. that a parliament 
 should be holden at least once in the course of every year, 
 this statute had become in a manner obsolete ; and for many 
 antecedent reigns, the summoning of the great council of the 
 nation depended on the will of the sovereign. 
 
 At his accession to the throne, Charles T. found the reve- 
 nues of the crown dilapidated, and his finances incumbered 
 
 VOL. I. 2d
 
 402 BRITISH CONSTITUTION. 
 
 with a large debt, which was daily increased by the expenses 
 of the war of the Palatinate. Poverty, however, did not 
 teach him humility. When after a few experiments, he had 
 found parliaments more industrious in stating and enlarging 
 upon the public grievances, thau in ministering to his wants, 
 he determined to reign without them. Misled by favourites 
 and flatterers, and drawn into error by dishonest judges, he, 
 on his sole authority, adopted the most arbitrary and the most 
 violent methods of raising money. Soon finding huuself in- 
 volved in the difficulties consequent upon such maxims of 
 government, he was at length reduced to the necessity of ap- 
 plying for aid to that very body, whose scrutiny he had so-. 
 much reason to dread. In the course of a little time, findings 
 himself stripped, one by one, of his dearest prerogatives, he 
 had recourse to the last appeal of sovereigns. He engaged in 
 a war against his subjects, which ended in his captivity, his trial, 
 and liis death. In this dreadful struggle, the Constitution was 
 torn to pieces. The ecclesiastical establishment was super- 
 seded the House of Lords was abolished all the power of 
 the state was transferred to a Committee, which, branching 
 out into subordinate bodies, diffused throughout the whole 
 kingdom the rancorous activity of democratic sway. 
 
 This state of things, however, could not, in its nature, be 
 of long duration. An overstrained democracy always terminates 
 in despotism. In the regular progress of events, the adminis- 
 tration of public affairs fell into tlie hands of a military chief, 
 who ruled the more despotically, because, as his title was 
 new, his powers were undefined. Though it cannot be denied 
 that Cromwell was possessed of many great qualities, neither 
 can it be denied, that his sway was tyrannical. Parliaments he 
 treated with contempt. When they manifested any symptoms 
 of resistance to his will, he dismissed them in part, or in the 
 whole, according to his pleasure. 
 
 Such conduct could not fail to diffuse discontent tlirough- 
 out the whole country ; and though, after the death of the 
 Protector, his son Richard seized the reins of government,
 
 UNDER THE STUARTS. 403 
 
 they instantly dropped from h'A feeble hand. The general 
 voice called for the restoration of Monarchy ; and the second 
 Charles returned from his long exile, and was received by his 
 repentant people with the most ardent enthusiasm. On this 
 occasion, as men are ever prone to run into extremes, the 
 spirit of freedom was nearly annihilated ; and the public func- 
 tionaries seemed prepared, in all formality, to vest the crown 
 with arbitrary power. By the interposition of a wise and 
 virtuous few, however, the forms of the Constitution were 
 revived the hierarchy resumed its dignity the House of 
 Lords was restored ; and the Commons were restricted to 
 their ordinary functions. Thus modified, the Convention 
 which had agreed to the restoration of the monarchy, assumed 
 the name of a Parliament. But, as in the opinion of the 
 court, this parliament stood in need of purification, it had 
 hardly effected the new settlement before it was dissolved ; 
 and the House of Commons, on the ensuing election, was re- 
 placed by a new one, fully imbued with the obsequious doc- 
 trines which constituted the political fashion of the day. 
 
 In the reign of Charles I. an act had been passed, which 
 provided, that no longer an interval tlian three years should 
 take place between one meeting of parliament and another. 
 In the year 1664, this salutary statute was repealed, and the 
 summoning of parliaments was left entirely to the discretion of 
 the king. At this time there was no limit to the duration of 
 the functions of the Lower House. When, therefore, Charles 
 n. had once assembled a body of senators, who seemed to 
 be sufficiently obsequious to his views, he was not in haste to 
 change them, and he allowed his celebrated Long Parliament 
 to sit about eighteen years. In that space of time a great 
 alteration having taken place in the public feeling, and the 
 Commons, influenced by jealousy of the designs of the crown 
 against the protestant religion, manifesting strong symptoms 
 of resistance against the measures of the court, he took a 
 decisive stejj, and dissolved the parliament in the year 1681. 
 From that period to the time of his death, he governed the 
 
 2 D 2
 
 404 BRITISH CONSTITUTION. 
 
 kingdom in a great measure according to the dictates of his 
 arbitrary will. 
 
 *iA jealousy, which subsequent events proved to be well 
 founded, of the insidious and despotic views of the Duke of 
 York, the presumptive heir to the throne, had induced the 
 friends of freedom to endeavour, by the Bill of Exclusion, 
 to deprive him of the means of eflfecting his purpose. Many 
 of the first characters in the kingdom fell victims to the re- 
 sentment kindled by this abortive attempt in the bosoms of the 
 royal brothers, and for a while they were branded after their 
 death, as factious calumniators. But the conduct of the 
 Duke when he assumed the throne, under tlie name of James 
 II., fully justified the plans, and vindicated the memories of 
 the martyrs of popular rights. Immediately on his accession 
 he proceeded to levy money, by the authority of a royal pro- 
 clamation ; and though he soon afterwards summoned a par- 
 liament, he took care to intimate to the Commons, that if 
 they did not fully enter into his views, he could easily find 
 means of dispensing with their services ; to which may be 
 added, that by the exercise of tlie dispensing power, he at- 
 tempted to abrogate the fundamental provisions of the consti- 
 tution. It is a circumstance truly fortunate for these realms, 
 that James II. was in principle not only a despot, but also a 
 bigot Had he bounded his views to an attack on the civil 
 rights of his subjects, it is a matter of considerable doubt, 
 whether sufficient spirit could have been roused effectually to 
 thwart his designs. But his attachment to the Roman Catho- 
 lic religion betrayed him into measures which diffused a ge- 
 neral alarm. At this crisis the chiefs of the English Church, 
 forgetting their favourite doctrines of passive obedience and 
 non-resistance, plentifully sowed the seeds of discontent ; and 
 the leaders of the Whigs applied to the Prince of Orange, 
 whom they invited to repair to this country as the redresser of 
 wrongs, the champion of civil liberty, and tlie guardian of the 
 Protestant faith. 
 The pusillanimous James having, on the approach of the
 
 BILL O*' lOOflTS. 405 
 
 Prince of Orange to London, fled to France, the contention, 
 which on this emergenc)' was summoned to provide for the 
 security of the country, affected to consider this flight as an 
 abdication of the crown. A vacancy of the throne being thus 
 declared, they immediately proceeded to fill it by devolving 
 the succession upon the Prince and Princess of Orange. By 
 this measure they deviated as little from the lineal course of in- 
 heritance, as was consistent with the general safety ; and gave 
 as little countenance as possible to the principle of elective 
 monarchy. The convention being now converted into a par- 
 liament, proceeded under the direction of the most enlightened 
 minds in the kingdom, to ascertain the bounds of the preroga- 
 tive, and to secure the liberty of the subject, by the justly cele- 
 brated " Bill of Rights." In this bill it was expressly de- 
 clared " that the pretended power of suspending laws, or the 
 execution of laws by regal authority without consent of parlia- 
 ment, is illegal;" every mode of levying money upon the sub- 
 ject, by mere virtue of the royal prerogative, was pointedly 
 condemned. It was also laid down as a fundamental principle, 
 " that the freedom of speech, and debates or proceedings in 
 parliament, ought not to be impeached or questioned in any 
 court, or place out of parliament;" and with a well founded 
 jealousy of military interference in civil affairs, it was declared, 
 *' that the raising or keeping a standing army within the king- 
 dom in time of peace, unless it be with consent of parliament, 
 is against law ;" -and even in time of war, the maintenance of a 
 military force, was afterwards rendered entirely dependent up- 
 on the authority of parliament. Thege are the principal pro- 
 visions of the " Bill of Rights" which though it may well be 
 denominated the palladium of British liberties, prescribes no 
 new limitations of the prerogative ; but merely asserts those 
 great principles of constitutional law which are to be collected 
 from the practice of the best times. 
 
 By one of its clauses a claim is made on behalf of the peo- 
 ple of England, to the holding of " frequent parliaments." 
 But this provision not being thought of itself sufficient to guard
 
 406 BRITISH CONSTITUTION. 
 
 the interests of the subject, in apprehension of the exercise of un- 
 due influence on the part of the crown over the House of Com- 
 mons, it was enacted in the 6th of William and Mary, that the 
 duration of parliaments should be limited to three years. By 
 the statute 1. Geo. I. St. 2. c. 38. this term was prolonged 
 to seven. 
 
 This brief historical review of the rise, progress and 
 variations of the British Constitution, may with propriety be 
 closed by a still more brief account of its present organization. 
 ''Governments which are simple in their forms, are either 
 democratic, aristocratical, or despotic. Each of these systems 
 of political rule has its advantages and its defects. Democra- 
 cies may be honest in their views, and public-spirited in their 
 resolves ; but they are liable to be rash in their decisions, and 
 indecisive in the execution of their measures ; to which may 
 be added, that they are liable to all the horrors of factious turbu- 
 lence. An aristocratical body may be prudent in its deliberations ; 
 but it is liable to corruption, whilst the ambitious intrigues (^ 
 rival chieftains difl'use mutual dissatisfaction, and often give 
 rise to the fury of civil war. And though an arbitrary mo- 
 narch may be skilful in design, and prompt in action, that 
 thirst for power, which seems to be innate in the human mind, 
 will in all probability incite him to trample upon the dearest 
 interests of his subjects. But the British Constitution, being 
 a mixture of monarchy, aristocracy, and democracy, seems 
 happily calculated to comprehend the good, and to reject the 
 evil, which occur in these simple forms of civil polity. " For," 
 to quote the sentiments of Mr. Justice Blackstone, " as with 
 us the executive power of the laws is lodged in a single 
 person, they have all the advantages of strength and dispatch 
 that are to be found in the most absolute monarchy ; and as 
 the legislature of the kingdom is entrusted to three distinct 
 powers, entirely independent of each other ; first, the king ; 
 secondly, the lords spiritual and temjioral, which is an aristo- 
 cratical assembly of persons selected for their piety, their 
 birth, their wisdom, their valour, or their property ; and thirdly.
 
 REGAL POWER. 40? 
 
 the House of Commons freely chosen by the people, from 
 among themselves, which makes it a kind of democracy ; as 
 this aggregate body, actuated by different springs, and atten- 
 tive to different interests, composes the British Parliament, 
 and has the supreme disposal of every thing, there can no 
 inconvenience be attempted by either of these three branches, 
 but will be withstood by one of the other two ; each branch 
 being armed with a negative power sufficient to repel any 
 innovation which it shall think inexpedient or dangerous." 
 
 In analysing the component parts of the British Constitution, 
 the regal power claims our first attention. 
 
 The crown of the United Kingdoms of Great Britain and 
 Ireland b hereditary in the manner of landed estates, as to the 
 male line. In one material circumstance, however, it differs, 
 from common inheritances, inasmuch as it is not subject to 
 subdivision, but in default of males, it descends entire to the 
 eldest female heir and her issue. 
 
 It is nevertheless to be remarked, that though the British 
 crown is generally hereditary, yet, when the welfare of the 
 state requires it, common sense and precedent conspire to 
 prove, that with respect to it, hereditary right may be defeated. 
 
 In case of necessity, or of manifest expediency, the lineal 
 heir may be excluded, and the crown may be vested in any one 
 else. And this may be done either by the Lords and Commons 
 alone, as in case of a vacancy of the throne ; or by the con- 
 currence of King, Lords, and Commons, in case of the throne 
 being full. Thus, when limitation of the descent became 
 advisable in consequence of the misrule of James II. the two 
 houses of Parliament vested the crown in William III. and 
 Queen Mary ; and on failure of issue in the line in which the 
 crown was then limited, the succession was vested by the 1 2fh 
 and 1 3th of William III. in the heirs of Sophia of Hanover, 
 upon condition that such heirs be protestants of the Church 
 of England, and are married to none but protestants. 
 
 The rightful inheritor of the crown of the United Kingdoms, 
 is by the conditions of his inheritance, bound to the discharge
 
 408 BRITISH CONSTITUTION. 
 
 of certaiu duties, as well as vested v^ith certain powers and 
 prerogatives. And it may be observed in geueral, that he 
 is solemuly obliged " to govern his people according to law." 
 Nothing b left to his arbitrary will. Nor is tliis, in the case of 
 British kings, a mere deduction of rea.son. It 'm the subject 
 of an express provision of the statute upon which is ultimately 
 founded the right of the present reigning family to the throne 
 of these realms, viz. the 12th and 13th of William III.. By 
 this statute it is expressly declared, ** that the laws of Englaud 
 are the birtliright of the people thereof ; and all the kings and 
 queens who shall ascend the throne of this realm, ought to 
 administer the same according to the said laws ; and all their 
 officers and ministers ought to serve them respectively accord- 
 ing to the same. According to the tenour of this statute, 
 by tlic oath administered to our sovereigns at their coronation, 
 they solemnly engage to govern according to law ; to execute 
 judgment in mercy ; and to maintain the established religion, 
 viz. Episcopacy according to the system of the English Church 
 in England ; Ireland, and Berwick upon Tweed ; and Presby- 
 terianism hi Scotland. 
 
 To enable the sovereign of these realms to discharge his 
 duties, he is vested by the constitution with ample and exten- 
 sive privileges. These may be considered as referring to his 
 foreign and to his domestic relations. With regard to the 
 former it may be observed : 1 . That as the dignity and power 
 of the state is supposed to center in the king, he is endued 
 with the sole power of sending ambassadors to foreign states, 
 and of receiving witliin his dominions the ambassadors of fo- 
 reign potentates. 2. That for tlie same reason, it is also his 
 prerogative to enter into treaties, and to form alliances with 
 foreign princes and states. 3. That, according to the prac- 
 tice of former times, if any of his subjects were despoiled or 
 aggrieved by strangers, he was empowered to grant them let- 
 ters of marque and reprisal, which authorized them to redress 
 their private injury. But, in modern days, tliis private appeal 
 to force is out of use. The wrongs of individuals are made
 
 REGAL PRIVILEGES. 409 
 
 'subjects of national resentment, and become a cause of war; 
 the proclaiming, prosecuting, and terminating of which, con- 
 stitutes the fourth and the most important branch of the 
 royal prerogative, as exercised upon foreign affairs. 
 
 In domestic concerns, the regal privileges are so ample, 
 that, did not experience happily prove that they may be 
 checked and counterbalanced, it might, upon an enumeration 
 of them, be supposed that they would soon be heightened 
 into despotism. For, 1. The king has an unquestionable 
 right to pur his negative upon all legislative measures pro- 
 posed by the two <5ther branches of the legislature. 2. As 
 chief of the military power of the kingdom, he appoints all 
 officers of the army and the navy, assigns them their stations 
 in peace and war, and directs all the variety of military move- 
 ments. He superintends all guards and garrisons, and erects 
 and maintains all forts, fortresses, and places of arms, in these 
 realms and their dependent colonies. 3. He is the fountain 
 of justice, and the general conservator of the peace through- 
 out the kingdom. He has power to erect courts of judica- 
 ture, and to execute all sentences therein passed, or to sus- 
 pend, or, with one exception, to remit their execution at his 
 pleasure. The ajudges of the high courts of judicature are 
 also appointed by him ; but with a laudable precaution against 
 a time-serving spirit on the part of those eminent magistrates, 
 it is provided by statute, that they shall not be dismissed at 
 the pleasure of the king, but that they shall retain their places 
 even in the case of a demise of the crown quamdiu se bene 
 gesserint. 5. The king is the fountain of honour, office, and 
 privilege. From him are derived all the various degrees of 
 nobility, knighthood, and other titles. He can also erect 
 corporations, and convert aliens into denizens, and " grant 
 place or precedence to any of his subjects, as shall seem good 
 to his royal wisdom." 6. As arbiter of commerce, the king 
 is authorized to institute markets and fairs, and to regulate 
 tolls, weights, and measures, and the public coinage of the 
 realm.
 
 410 BRITISH CONSTITUTION. 
 
 7. And it may be mentioned as the last, though not the 
 least of the sources of royal power, that the king is the head 
 of the English and Irish churches, in which capacity he sum- 
 mons and dissolves all synods and conventions of the clergy ; 
 and, in fact, though not in express terms, nominates to all 
 vacant bishoprics, -and to various other ecclesiastical offices. 
 
 This detail of the main branches of the royal prerogative 
 evinces, that the maxim of the law is not a dead letter, which 
 states, that " in the king is vested the attribute of sovereignty 
 or pre-eminence." As a further support of his dignity and 
 authority, it is a sacred principle of ouT constitutional law, 
 that " the king can do no wrong." Strange as this principle 
 may appear on its first enunciation, and directly as it may ap- 
 pear to tend to despotism, it is, in point of fact, by its appli- 
 cation, one of the main preservatives of public liberty and of 
 general tranquillity. For, whilst it is asserted that " the king 
 can do no wrong," it Is provided, that for all his public acts, 
 his ministers and advisers are responsible to the nation at 
 large by the medium of the parliament, and of other legally 
 constituted assemblies. Hence, whilst due* respect is paid to 
 the person and the character of the reigning sovereign, the 
 propriety of his measures may be canvassed with strictness, 
 and even with jealousy and those popular discontents which, 
 in more arbitrary governments, would give, rise to all the 
 horrors of a revolution, are generally allayed by the easy and 
 simple process of a change of administration. 
 
 The House of Peers is composed of the Lords sjNritual, 
 and the Lords temporal. The former consist of two Archbi- 
 shops, and twenty-four bishops, who are a kind of representa- 
 tives of the clergy of England and Wales ; and of four Bi- 
 shops, who are taken by rotation, from the eighteen bishops of 
 Jreland. With regard to England, the number of temporal 
 peers is unlimited. At the period of the Union with Ireland, 
 A. D. 1800, it was settled, that from the Irish temporal peers, 
 twenty-eight should be elected by their own body to sit in the 
 Imperial parliament ; tliat they should retain their seats dur-
 
 HOUSE OF COMMONS. 411 
 
 ing life ; and that each vacancy by death, should be filled by a 
 new election. The Scotch peers are sixteen in number, and 
 are elected by their own body, for one parliament only. The 
 Lords temporal are divided into dukes, marquisses, earls, 
 viscounts, and barons, who hold their respective ranks in the 
 foregoing order, by hereditary descent or by creation. In its 
 aggregate capacity, the House of Peers has a right to a nega- 
 tive upon all legislative proposals. Its members also enjoy 
 the privilege of voting by proxy, and of entering their dissent 
 against the measures adopted by the majority, with the reasons 
 of such dissent, upon the journals of the house. It is the 
 final court of appeal in civil causes ; and it constitutes a crimi- 
 nal court for the trial of its own members, and in certain 
 cases for the trial of others who are impeached of high crimes 
 and misdemeanours. 
 
 The Commons of the United Kingdoms of Great Britain 
 and Ireland consist, to adopt the language of Blackstone, *' of 
 all such men of any property as have not seats in the House 
 of Lords, every one of which has a vote in parliament, either 
 personally, or by his representatives." These representatives, 
 which constitute the House of Commons, or as it is some- 
 times called, the Lower House of Parliament, are returned by 
 the respective kingdoms in the following proportions : 
 
 England - - 513 - 
 Scotland - - 45 
 Ireland - - 100 
 
 Total - 658 ' '^ 
 
 The members of the House of Commons are divided into 
 two classes, Knights of the Shire, or representatives of coun- 
 ties ; and citizens and burgesses, or representatives of cities 
 and boroughs. The qualification for voting for the former, is 
 the possession of a freehold, of the value of forty shillings per 
 annum, or upwards, situated in the county, for which the
 
 412 BRITISH CONSTITUTION. 
 
 elector claims a vote. The right of election in boroughs is 
 very various, depending upon the charters and immemoiial 
 usages of each place, or upon solemn decisions made by com- 
 mittees appointed by the House, to decide upon the merits of 
 election petitions. With a view to guard the purity, and to 
 ensure the respectability of this assembly, it is provided by 
 statute, that several descriptions of place-men and pensioners 
 of the crown .shall be ineligible to sit in it ; and that each 
 knight of the shire, must be seized of a freehold estate in the 
 county which he represents, of the value of o600 per annum ; 
 and that every burgess and citizen must possess an annual 
 landed income of 300. 
 
 The House of Commons, thus constituted, like the other 
 branches of the legislature, enjoys the privilege of a negative 
 upon all the laws which may be proposed for its consideration. 
 By immemorial custom also, it claims and exercises the right 
 of originating all money bills ; that is to say, all bills which 
 levy money upon the subject by way of taxes or assessments. 
 Some fanciful reasons have been assigned for this privilege; 
 but, referring to the history of the Constitution of the Lower 
 House, it should seem, that it originated in the circumstance, 
 that the Commons were first summoned merely for the purpose 
 of informing the king what weight* of taxation, their respective 
 constituent bodies would be able to bear. This provision, 
 which was at first in all probability regarded as a great hard- 
 ship, has by the lapse of time been modified and matured, so 
 as to become the principal safeguard of our liberties, and the 
 main barrier against any inordinate encrease of the power of 
 the crown. Without money the strength of the executive is 
 paralysed ; and as all taxation must not only be approved bj 
 the Commons, but must originate in their House, while on 
 the one hand the King and the Lords are armed with a ne- 
 gative to defend themselves against any attempt at encroach- 
 ment on the part of the third estate ; so on the other, the 
 Commons can at any time check the measures of ministerial 
 folly, or guilt; by withholding the supplies. At the same time,
 
 SUMMARY OF 413 
 
 should it ever happen, that the proceedings of the Commons 
 are manifestly dictated by factious views, which are incom- 
 patible with the general interests of the community, the kuig 
 is invested with a power, not only to negative their proceedings, 
 but to dissolve the parliament ; and thus, by submitting their 
 conduct to the revision of their constituents, to appeal against 
 them to the nation at large. 
 
 Thus, however complicated the machinery of the British 
 Constitution and Government may appear to be, its operations 
 are regulated by a few grand and simple principles ; namely, 
 the sacredness of the king's person, and the responsibility of his 
 ministers the negative power of each branch of the legislature; 
 and the command. exercised by the Commons over the public 
 purse. The forms of parliamentary proceedings provide for 
 the most mature discussion, and the greatest possible freedom 
 of debate ; and by those forms, ample opportunity is given to 
 the people at large, and even to individuals, to state to either 
 house, by the means of petitions, their sentiments upon 
 measures which affect, or seem to affect, their immediate and 
 peculiar interests. Notwithstanding then the influence of the 
 crown is occasionally and plainly perceptible in the proceedings 
 of the other branches of the legislature, the constitution has pro- 
 vided a check to that influence by the counterbalance of pub- 
 lic opinion. The maxim of the great lord treasurer Burleigh 
 is strictly true, that " England can never be ruined but by a 
 parliament ;" but it is equally true, that no parliament will 
 hazard any proceedings ruinous to tlie liberties, or to the 
 general welfare of the country, while the people at large 
 watch with due vigilance the conduct of their representatives. 
 
 >Mf'
 
 CHAP. XXVIII. 
 
 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 Objects of Mathematics Use, importance and history of Matheniaticit. 
 Arithmetic; history of importance of to other branches of science 
 books of Arithmetic, viz. those by Dilworth Walkinghame Vyse Hot- 
 ton Molyneux Bonnycastle Joyce Malcolm and Mair Arithmeti- 
 cal machines. 
 
 1 HE science of mathematics treats of the ratio* and com- 
 parison 'of quantities, and has been sometimes denominated 
 the science of ratios. The term mathematics is derived from 
 a Greek word signifying discipline, or science, thereby sig- 
 nifying the high idea that we ought to entertain of this branch 
 of human knowledge. The science of mathematics is always 
 accompanied v/ith certainty, an advantage that character- 
 izes accurate knowledge, and the true sciences, with which 
 we must on no accoimt associate conjecture, or even pro- 
 bability. 
 
 * Ratio is the relation that two magnitades of the same kind bear 
 to one another in respect to qnantity. Thus the ratio of 2 to 1 is double, 
 of 3 to 1, triple. Ratio has been frequently confounded with proportion, 
 but they are different things, for proportion is die similitude or equality of 
 two ratios. Thus the ratio of 6 to 2 is the same as that of 3 to l, and the 
 ratio of 15 to 5 is tlie same as that 3 to 1, and therefore the ratio of 6 to 2 
 is the same with that of 15 to 5, which constitutes proportion, and it is thus 
 expressed, 6 is to 2 as 15 to .S, or thus 6 : 2 : : 15 : 5. So that ratio 
 exists between two terms, but proportion between two ratios or four temu.
 
 ADVANTAGE OF MATHEMATICS. 415 
 
 The subjects of which the mathematics treat, are the compa- 
 risons of quantities and magnitude, as numbers, velocity, distance, 
 &c. Quantity expressed by numbers is called Arithmetic ; but 
 when expressed by letters and signs, it is denominated Algebra. 
 Geometry considers the relative magnitude and extension of 
 bodies : astronomy, the relative velocities and distances of the 
 planets : mechanics, the relative powers and force of different 
 machines, &c. In all cases there must be some determinate 
 quantity fixed on as a standard measure. 
 
 Mathematics are usually divided into the pure or abstract, 
 and the compound or mixed. Pure mathematics relate to 
 magnitudes generally and abstractedly, and are founded on 
 the elementary ideas of quantity : such is Arithmetic, or the 
 art of computation, and such also is Geometry, or the science 
 of mensuration and comparison of extensions of every kind. 
 Mixed .mathematics consider quantity as subsisting in mate- 
 rial substances, as length in a pole or staff, depth in a river, 
 height in a tree, tower, 8cc. Mixed mathematics are very ex- 
 tensive, and are distinguished by various names, according to 
 the different subjects they consider^ and the different views in 
 which they are taken, such as mechanics, hydrostatics, hydrau- 
 lics, acoustics, optics, navigation, &c. 
 
 There is an advantage m pure mathematics, which is pecu- 
 liar to that branch of science : it neither occasions nor admits 
 of contests among wrangling disputants, as happens in othe 
 branches of knowledge. For the definitions of the terms are 
 premised, and every person that reads a proposition has the 
 same idea of every part of it. Heiie, it is easy to put an 
 end to all mathematical controversies, by shewing, either that 
 the adversary has not kept to his definitions, or has not laid 
 down true premises, gr has drawn false conclusions from true 
 principles ; and in case some one or other of these can be 
 done, he must acknowledge the truth of what has been proved. 
 In mixed mathematics, where we reason mathematically upon* 
 physical subjects, our definitions cannot be so strict as in geo- 
 metry. They are.frequently little better than descriptions, which.
 
 416 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 however, with proper care, will be nearly of the same use as 
 definitions, provided we always mean the same thing by those 
 terms which we have once explained. 
 
 Though tlie application of mathemati( al sciences is of great 
 importance to the interests of society, yet this is not that 
 which constitutes their pecuhar excellency ; it is their opera- 
 tion upon the mind, the vigour which they impart to our 
 intellectual faculties, and the discipline which they impose 
 upon our rational powers. The eulogium passed upon this 
 science by the learned Dr. Barrow, may claim the notice of 
 every youth ; and those who are capable of appreciating the 
 value of this branch of knowledge, will admit, that he has not 
 gone, in any respect, beyond the truth. " The mathematics," 
 says the doctor, " effectually exercise studious minds, and 
 plainly demonstrate every thing witliin their reach : they draw 
 certain conclusions, instruct by profitable rules, and unfold 
 pleasant questions. These disciplines inure and corroborate 
 the mind to a constant diligence in study : they wholly deliver 
 us from a credulous simplicity ; and most strongly fortify us 
 against the- vanity of scepticism : they effectually restrain us 
 from rash presumption, most easily incline us to a due assent, 
 and perfectly subject us to the government of right reason. 
 While the mind is abstracted from and elevated above sensible 
 matter, it distinctly views pure forms, conceives the beauty 
 of ideas, and investigates the harmony of proportions; the 
 manners themselves are sensibly corrected and improved, the 
 affections composed and rectified, the fancy calmed and settled, 
 and the understanding raised and excited to more divine con- 
 templations." 
 
 By a certain class of people, mathematical studies are held 
 in contempt; but it may, perhaps, be justly assumed, that those 
 who speak, or even think slightly of them, are the persons who 
 have not patience to investigate the truths which they are 
 capable of unfolding. 
 
 A liberal mind excludes, as unworthy of its notice, none 
 of the sciences. They all contribute, by various, and, perhaps,
 
 ADVANTAGE OF MATHEMATICS. 417 
 
 different means to adorn and embellish life, and for this rea- 
 son, independently of the advantages above enumerated, they 
 ODght to be cultivated and improved. " Happy is the mind 
 that is not contracted by the study of philosophy, nor ener- 
 vated by the charms of the Belles Lettres ; that can be 
 strengthened by Locke ; instructed by Clarke and Newton ; 
 impassioned by Cicero and Demosthenes ; and elevated by the 
 powers of Homer and Virgil." 
 
 The limits of our work, will not allow us to enter at large 
 into the history of any branch of science; we may, however, 
 briefly notice some facts connected with the early culture of 
 mathematical knowledge. It is generally supposed that the 
 Greeks derived their scientific learning from the Magi of 
 Egypt, long before the time of Thales, who is often styled the 
 father of the Grecian philosophy, only because he is the first 
 of those of whom any decided account has been transmitted to 
 us. This philosopher, according to Herodotus, predicted a 
 total eclipse of the sun, which from subsequent inquiry is as- 
 certained to have happened in the year 610, B.C. At this 
 period, then, astronomy must have made considerable progress 
 in Greece, as the prediction of an eclipse requires much pre- 
 vious knowledge, and a vast number of accurate observations, 
 which could only have been obtained in a long series of years. 
 Pythagoras, who was probably a pupil of Thales, and who 
 flourished about the year 590, B. C, had made considerable 
 improvements in arithmetic, astronomy, and geometry. In 
 arithmetic, he invented the multiplication table, or the Abacus 
 Pythagoricus : in astronomy, he suggested the idea of the 
 true system, placing the sun in the centre, and making the pla- 
 nets, revolve about that body ; ^nd in geometry, he discovered 
 the forty-seventh proposition of Euclid's first book, well known 
 by the name of the Pythagorean theorem, and which of itself, 
 would have conferred a sort of immortality upon the disco- 
 verer. At or about this period, Anaximander flourished, and 
 soon after Anaximenes, Anaxagoras, and others of great note : 
 but passing over these, we come to Plato, who cultivated both 
 
 VOL. I. 2 E
 
 418 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 geometry afid astrunoniy with great assiduity^ nearly four ceii- 
 turieii before tlic birth of ChrUt. To him, and to his disciple 
 Aristasm, we are indebted for the introduction of the conic 
 sections in geometry. It was almost a century between the 
 time of Plato and Euclid, daring which period all the sciences 
 were considerably advanced and extended ^ and treatises on 
 particular subjects appeared from this time, in which all the 
 propositions then known, were collected and arranged iji sy*- 
 temalic order, whicli was the object of Euclid in his cele- 
 brated Elements, a work of which we shall shortly have occa- 
 sion to speak, and which has met with a success vastly supe- 
 rior to that of any other book of science that ever was pub- 
 hshed. Archiiuedes, one of the most illustrious geometricians 
 tha^evei- existed, followed soon after the time of Euclid. His ge- 
 nius was as extensive as it was penetrating, and it led him to the 
 contemplation of almost every species of human knowledge, 
 and nearly every branch of mathematical science is indebted to 
 him for most important discoveries. After Archimedes, at 
 the distance of tifty years, ApoUonius cultivated the matliema- 
 tical sciences with the greatest possible success. About this 
 period flourished Eratostlieues, who hrst attempted to meaMire 
 the earth ; Ctesibius, to whom we are indebted for pumps ; 
 and Hero of Alexandria, who invented the clepsydra.*, or 
 water-clocks. Hipparchus, the prince and father of astronomy, 
 who flourished about one hundred and forty years, B.C., made 
 the fust classification of the stars, ascertained nearly tlie du- 
 ration of the year, discovered the eccentricity of tlie earth's 
 orbit, the precessiou of the equinoxes, ami applied his favou- 
 rite science to the purposes of geography.^* Theodosius is the 
 next eminent mathematician ; he wrote a ^ork on tlie sphere, 
 which may be reckoned as the foundation of spherical trigono- 
 metry ; but after him, we have no account of any great geo- 
 metrician for nearly three hundred years. Ptolemy began to 
 revive tlie sciences, about a century and half after the birth of 
 Christ. His principal work was entitled the Almagest, au 
 Arabic word signifying " the Great Collection/' because it con/-
 
 HISTORY OF MATHEMATICS. 419 
 
 tained all the ancient observations and theories, \vhich, with 
 the addition of his own researches, may be said to have formed 
 the most complete collection of ancient astronomy that ever 
 appeared. This work, in some measure supplies the place of 
 those that preceded it, and which are now lost to the world ; 
 and fxjr the compilation of it, Ptolemy is entitled to the grati- 
 tude of all lovers of science. Some years after this period, 
 Diophantus made a new and remarkable step in arithmetic, by 
 the invention of the indeterminate analysis, a species of alge- 
 bra, which is the first trace we have of this extensive and 
 highly useful branch of science. This work it appears, con- 
 sisted of thirteen books, only six of which have come down to 
 us : it displays great talents, and has ever been in high esteem 
 among analysts of all succeeding ages ; and has accordingly 
 been commented upon and explained by various writers, both 
 ancient and modern most of the former are lost. Of these, 
 mathematicians have chiefly regretted the commentary of 
 Hypatia, daughter of Theon, who flourished about the four 
 hundred and tenth year of the Christian ara. The talents, 
 virtues, and misfortunes of this illustrious victim of fanaticism, 
 have a claim to the homage of posterity, while the remem- 
 brance of the deed,* and the perpetrators of it, will be exe- 
 crated and abhorred by every friend to science, and admirer of 
 female virtue and talents. About this period we meet with 
 Pappus, who is distinguished for his collections of the various 
 works of his predecessors : these collections contain one of 
 the most valuable monuments of ancient geometry. In them, 
 he has assembled together a number of excellent works, the 
 originals of almost all of which are now lost, and to them he 
 has added several new, curious, and learned propositions of 
 his own. 
 
 * Hypatia was murdered in tlie year 413, under. the reign of Theodosius 
 II. by the consent and desire, if not by the direct instigation of Cyril, a 
 Christian bishop. Her cruel and blood-thirsty enemies were not content 
 with her life : they put her to extreme torture, and then treated her dead 
 body with the utmost indignity. 
 
 2e 2
 
 420 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 After Pappus, Eutochiiis flourished about the year 520, 
 who was a great mathematician, and whose commentaries on 
 the works of Archimedes and Apollonius are in high estima- 
 tion. Other names might be enumerated, had we room to 
 dilate ; but we pass on to that period which proved so fatal 
 to the sciences. These had for a long time taken refuge in 
 Alexandria ; but, about the middle of the seventh century, a 
 tremendous storm arose, which threatened their total destruc- 
 tion. The successors of Mohammed ravaged an immense ex- 
 tent of the then civilized world. All the cultivators of the 
 arts and sciences, who, from every nation, had assembled in 
 Alexandria, were driven away with ignominy ; some fell be- 
 neath the swords of the conquerors, others fled into remote 
 countries, to drag out the remainder of their lives in obscurity 
 and distress. The places and instruments which had been so 
 useful in making an immense number of astronomical observa- 
 tions, were involved with the records in one common ruin. 
 The whole of that precious library, which contained the works 
 of so many eminent authors, and was the common depository 
 of every species of human knowledge, was entirely devoted to 
 the flames by the Arabs. From tliis period, several ages fol- 
 lowed of the most wretched ignorance and barbarism, so that 
 it seems wonderful that the sciences ever recovered the deadly 
 blow ; but, as has been mentioned, some philosophers of 
 Alexandria escaped the vengeance of their barbarous con- 
 querors, and these of course carried with them a remnant of 
 that general learning for which this school was so justly cele- 
 brated. But, destitute of books, of instruments, and almost 
 the means of existence without manual labour, very little far- 
 ther knowledge could have been accumulated, and still less 
 propagated ; so that philosophy and mathematics must have 
 become extinct, had not the Arabians themselves, within less 
 than two centuries from this fatal catastrophe, become the ad- 
 mirers and supporters of those very sciences which they, aft, 
 at least, their ancestors, had so nearly annihilated. 
 
 Of all the branches of mathematics, astronomy was that
 
 ARITHMETIC. 4gt 
 
 which the Arabs held in the greatest esttffiatidn, though they 
 did not wholly neglect the others. Our present system of 
 arithmetic is derived from them, though they were probably 
 not the inventors, but had acquired their knowledge of it from 
 the Indians. It is not in our power to enumerate all the 
 great men among the Arabians that appeared from the period 
 of which we are now speaking, to the beginning of the thir- 
 teenth century. Among the Arabian princes, who were also 
 men of science, we may mention Almansor, who flou- 
 rished about the year 754 ; Al-Maimon, who reigned from 
 813 to 833, in whose time, in consequence of the great sup- 
 port and assistance which he afforded the sciences, they made 
 very considerable progress. Alfragan, Thebit, and Albategni, 
 were particularly distinguished about this period. Thebit was 
 a considerable algebraist, geometrician, and astronomer ; Al- 
 fragan composed elements of the latter branch of science, of 
 which several editions have been published since the inven- 
 tion of printing ; and Albategni, in consequence of his nume- 
 rous and important observations, and very accurate knowledge, 
 was sumamed the Arabian Ptolemy. About the year 1100, 
 Alhazen, a very celebrated Arab, settled in Spain, and com^* 
 posed a treatise on optics ; and to him we are indebted for 
 the first theory of refraction and twilight. 
 
 Thus have we given a brief sketch of the first rise, the de- 
 cline, and revival of the mathematical sciences. After this 
 period, they began to be propagated in several European 
 countries, and have continued to be cultivated and improved 
 from that to the present time. The reader is referred to Mon- 
 tucla's History of Mathematics, for a complete account of 
 almost every thing that is valuable and deserving of notice on 
 the subject. Montucla's History was first published in two 
 volumes, 4to. but it was afterwards continued by Lalande, 
 making, in the whole, four volumes. 
 
 ARITHMETIC. 
 Arithmetic^ or the art of numbering, is that part of ma-
 
 422 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 thematics which considers the powers of numbers, and teaches 
 how to compute or calculate truly, and with ease and expedi- 
 tion. The great leading rules or operations, after we have 
 learnt to name the several figures and combinations of figures, 
 are addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division. Be* 
 sides these, many other useful rules have been contrived, for 
 the purpose of facilitating and expediting computations, mer- 
 cantile and astronomical ; and which afford the most salutary 
 aid to the philosopher, the man of business, and the political 
 economist. 
 
 We know very little respecting the origin and invention of 
 arithmetic ; like other branches of knowledge connected with 
 the interests of society, it probably originated in the wants of 
 man, and at first proceeded very slowly toward that point of 
 perfection to which it has long since arrived. History fixe* 
 neither the author nor the time when its elementary principles 
 were discovered, or, perhaps, to speak more properly, con- 
 trived. Some knowledge of numbers must have existed 
 in the earliest ages of mankind, which was probably sug- 
 gested to them by tlieir own fingers or toes, by their flocks 
 and herds, and by a variety of objects that surrounded them. 
 Their powers of numeration would, at first, have been very 
 limited, and before the art of writing was invented, it must 
 have depended either on memory, or on such artificial helps 
 as might be most easily obtained. 
 
 The introduction of arithmetic as a science, and the im- 
 provements it underwent, must, in a great degree, have de- 
 pended upon the introduction and establishment of commerce; 
 and as that was extended and improved, and other sciences 
 were discovered and cultivated, arithmetic would be improved 
 likewise. Hence it has been inferred, that arithmetic was 
 a Tyrian invention, or, at least, that it was much in- 
 debted to the Tyrians or Phoenicians for its progress in the 
 world. Proclus, in his Commentary on the first book of 
 Euclid, says, the Phoenicians, by reason of their great traffic 
 and commerce, were the inventors of arithmetic. This also
 
 ARITHMETIC. 423 
 
 M'as the opmion of Strabo. Others, however, have traced the 
 origin of this art to Eg\'pt, and they say tliat Theut, or Thot, 
 was the inventor of numbers, that from thence the Greeks 
 adopted the idea of ascribing to their Mercury, correspond- 
 ing to the Egyptian Theut, or Hermes, the superintendence 
 of commerce and arithmetic. 
 
 Josephus affirms, that arithmetic passed from Asia into 
 Egypt, where it was cultivated and improved, so much so, 
 that a considerahie part of Egyptian philosophy, and dieology 
 likewise, seems to have turned altogether upon numbers. Atha- 
 nasius Kircher shews that the Egyptians explained every thing 
 by numbers. So highly was the art of numbering or arith- 
 metic esteemed by the ancients, that Pythagoras affirmed 
 that the nature of numbers pervades the whole universe, and 
 that the knowledge of numbers is the knowledge of tiie Deity 
 himself. 
 
 From Egypt, arithmetic was transmitted to the Greeks by 
 Pytliagoras and his followers, and among them it was the sub- 
 ject of particular attention, as is evident from the writings of 
 Archimedes and other illustrious philosophers ; and with the 
 improvements which it derived from them, it passed to the 
 Romans, and from rfiem it came to us. 
 
 "Rie ancient arithmetic was very different from that of the 
 modems, in several respects, and particularly in their method 
 of notation. It has been thought that the Greeks and Ro- 
 mans at first used pebbles in their calculations, and, in proof 
 of this, we find the Greek and Latin words signifying calcu- 
 lation, are derived from the words ^fi(^a^ and calculus, a little 
 stone; and the Greek verb ^^(pi^u signifies, among other 
 meanings, to calculate. In confirmation of this theory, it is 
 observed, that the Indians are at this time very e'>cpert in com- 
 puting by means of their fingers, without the use of pen and 
 ink ; and that the natives of Peru, by different arrangements of 
 their maize, surpass the European, aided by all his rules, both 
 in accuracy and despatch. 
 
 " It is easy to imagine," says the author of the " Origin of
 
 424 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 Laws, Arts, and Sciences," p. 218, Sec. vol.i. "how, by the 
 help of tlieir fingers and a few little stones, men might per- 
 form considerable calculations. If it is demanded how these 
 primitive arithmeticians managed when they were to count a 
 great number of objects, which obliged them several times to 
 recommence the decimal numeration, I answer, that it seems 
 probable they marked tens of units by one symbol, and hun- 
 dreds by another. Perhaps they expressed tens by white 
 stones, and hundreds by stones of another colour. After this 
 discovery, it would not be difficult to contrive symbols for ex- 
 pressing tens of hundreds, or thousands, &,c. &c. 
 
 " Perhaps the first arithmeticians might make use of sym- 
 bols of the same colour to express tens, hundreds, &c. only 
 observing to place them so with regard to one another, as to 
 determine their relative value, as we do with our cyphers, 
 which have different values, according to the rank they hold, 
 and the place they occupy. By such means, mankind might 
 carry the practice of numeration further than their necessities 
 and way of life required. The invention of these methods of 
 numeration would naturally lead men to the knowledge of ad- 
 dition. As soon as they knew how to number with facility 
 a collection of objects, however great, it would require no 
 great effort to number several of these together, that is, to 
 add them. They had nothing to do but to place the symbols 
 of their several numbers under one another, so as to have 
 their units, their tens, and their hundreds, 8cc. under their eye 
 at once, and then to reduce all these several symbols into one. 
 They would not be long in discovering the art of performing 
 this reduction. They had only to sum up separately first 
 their units, then their tens, and then their hundreds, and to 
 form the symbol of each of these sums as they discovered 
 them ; to do that, in a word, by parts, which the weakness of 
 our faculties will not permit us to do at once. 
 
 " It was not difficult to proceed from the practice of nu- 
 meration to addition, it was still more easy to find out the art 
 of multiplying one number by another. Tnere is reason to
 
 ARITHMETIC. ^ 
 
 think, that multiplication was at first performed by means of 
 addition. The steps of the human mind are naturally slow. 
 It requires no little time and labour to pass the medium 
 which divides one part of science from another, however ana- 
 logous they may seem to be. At first, therefore, it is prob- 
 able multiplication and addition made but one operation. Had 
 they, for example, to multiply 12 by 4, they formed the sym- 
 bol of 12 four times, and then reduced these four symbols 
 into one, by the rules just laid down. But this method of 
 multiplication by ^dition must have been very tedious and 
 perplexing, when either of the numbers was considerable. If 
 they were to multiply 15 by 13, they had to make the symbol 
 of 15 thirteen times, and then to sum up these thirteen sym- 
 bols. Those who were most practised in calculation, would 
 soon discover that they might abridge this operation, by form- 
 ing the symbol of 15 three times, and once that of 150, which 
 is the product of 1 by 10; and then sum up these four sym- 
 bols. Such was probably the first step of the hum'an mind 
 towards multiplication, properly so called, or the art of adding 
 equal numbers with greater facility and expedition. This 
 operation, however, could never be performed with ease, till 
 those who practised calculation had by heart the product of 
 all the numbers under ten." 
 
 The Hebrews and Greeks at a very early period, it is well 
 known, had recourse to the letters of their alphabet for the 
 representation of their numbers, and the Romans followed 
 their example. The Greeks, in particular, had two methods ; 
 the first resembled that of the Romans, with which we are 
 well acquainted, and is still used in numbering the chapters, 
 and other divisions of books, dates of years, &c. They after- 
 wards had recourse to another method, in which the first nine 
 letters of their alphabet represented the first numbers from 
 1 to 9, and the next nine letters represented any number of 
 tens, from 1 to 9, that is, 10, 20, &c. to 90. Any number 
 of hundreds they expressed by other letters, in the same, or 
 a similar way, as has been explained above with regard to
 
 426 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 pebbles, thus approaching to the more perfect decuple or de- 
 cimal scale of progression used by the Arabians, who, as wc 
 have seen, probably received it from the Indians, to whom it 
 was perhaps carried by Pythagoras. 
 
 The introduction of the Arabian or Indian notation into 
 Europe, about the tenth century, made a material alteration 
 in the state of arithmetic ; and this is thought to have been 
 one of the greatest improvements which this science had re- 
 ceived since the first discovery of it. The method of notation 
 was certainly brought from the Arabians Jnto Spain, by the 
 Moors or Saracens in the tenth century. Gerbert, after- 
 wards Pope Silvester II., v.ho died in the year 1003, carried 
 this notation from the Moors of Spain into France, it is be- 
 lieved about the year 960, and it was known in this country 
 early in the eleventh century, or perhaps sooner. As science 
 and literature advanced in Europe the knowledge of numbers 
 was also extended, and the writers in this art were very much 
 multiplie'd. 
 
 The next considerable improvement in this branch of 
 science, after the introduction of the numeral figures of the 
 Arabians, was. that of decimal parts, for which we are in- 
 debted to Regiomontamis ; who, about the year 14G4, divided 
 the radius of a circle (see Trigonometry) into 10,000,(X)0, so 
 that if the radius be denoted by l,the sines, co-sines, See. will 
 be expressed by so many places of decimal fractions, as there are 
 cyphers following 1 . This seems to have been the introductiorr 
 of decimal parts. The first person who wrote professedly on the 
 subject, and introduced the name " disme" or " decimals" was 
 Simon Sterinus, in a treatise intitled " Disme," subjoined to 
 his arithmetic, published in French, and printed at Leyden 
 in 158.5 ; since which, the method of decimals has been prac- 
 tised by many others, and is now become universal. 
 
 Arithmetic, in its present state, is divided into different kinds; 
 our concern with it is only as it relates to theory zwA practice. 
 Theoretical or speculative arithmetic is the science of the pro- 
 perties, relations, &c. of numbers, considered abstractedly, with
 
 ARITHMETIC. 427 
 
 the reasons and demonstrations of the several mles. Euclid, 
 to whom we shall shortly have occasion to refer more parti- 
 cularly, furnishes a theoretical arithmetic, in the seventh, 
 eighth and ninth books of his Elements. The practical part 
 consists in the application of the rules resulting from the theory 
 to the solution of questions or problems, and arithmetic in 
 this respect has Been called an art : viz. the art of numbering 
 or computing ; that is, from certain numbers given, of finding 
 certain others, whose relation to the former becomes known. 
 
 To a person unacquainted with the rules of arithmetic, but 
 who has in his mind an idea of numbers, and at the same 
 time knows how to express those numbers, it may naturally 
 occur to him to ask what is the sum of two or more numbers ? 
 hence appears the necessity of the rule addition. To obtain 
 the diflference of two given numbers, subtraction will be re- 
 quired : to find the product of two or more numbers, we want 
 another rule called multiplication y and to find how often one 
 number is contained in another, requires division. These four 
 rules, viz. addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division, 
 are, in fact, the whole of arithmetic. For every arithmetical 
 operation requires the use of some or all of these. These 
 have been sometimes compared to the simple mechanical 
 powers, which, variously combined, produce engines of differ- 
 ent forms and of indefinite force ; which, however they may 
 at first strike us with surprise and astonishment, will, upon 
 examination, appear evidently to arise from a proper combin- 
 ation of the simple powers. In the same manner the most 
 complex operations in arithmetic are all effected by the appli- 
 cation of the simple rules just described. 
 
 Although it may at first appear, that the student, in 
 pursuit of general knowledge, has little to do with arithmetic, 
 excepting, as a branch of science, and that if he understand 
 the theoretical part it will be amply sufficient, experience will 
 teach him a different lesson. To be ready in science, pro- 
 perly, so called, he ought to be an expert practical arith-
 
 428 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 metician, and he cannot lay too broad and solid a foundation 
 in this introductory part of knowledge. 
 
 Numerical computations are necessary in almost every step 
 of useful knowledge, though the manner of the operations 
 depends upon the nature of the subject to which they are ap- 
 plied. Arithmetic may, therefore, be regarded as the hand- 
 maid to her sister arts and sciences ; and, while she is em- 
 ployed in their service, she must be under their direction, be 
 ready at their call, and observe the laws they prescribe. Thus, 
 the calculations of eclipses, the time of the tides, and of the 
 several changes of the moon, are performed by numbers ; but 
 the operations must be directed by the precepts of astronomy, 
 which are the results of an extensive knowledge in that branch 
 of science. Reckonings at sea, so useful and necessary to 
 the navigator, are wrought by arithmetic ; but the steps of 
 the work are conducted by tlie rules of navigation. The 
 contents of casks, in the art of guaging, are found by num- 
 bers ; but the principles of the art depend on plane and solid 
 Geometrju The perpendicular heights of objects are com- 
 puted by numbers ; but trigonometry, which depends on geo- 
 metry, directs the manner of their appUcation. The Specific 
 Gravities of bodies are obtained by arithmetic ; but they could 
 not have been investigated without the aid of hydrostatics. Simi- 
 lar observations would apply to the other branches of science, 
 which shew how important it is, that a person in pursuit of 
 the general principles of knowledge, should be well grounded 
 in arithmetic. It remains now to describe those books from 
 which such knowledge can be readily obtained. 
 
 The number of books containing the practice and first 
 principles of arithmetic, is very great ; almost any of which, 
 with the assistance of a teacher, will answer the end proposed. 
 We shall mention but few of these, without, however, mean- 
 ing, by our silence, to depreciate the others. 
 
 The principal school-books in Arithmetic, were formerly 
 the " School-master's Assistaot/' by Dilworth, and the
 
 ARITHMETIC. 429 
 
 *' Tutor's Assistant/' by Walkinghame ; these, for many years, 
 kept possession of the majority of schools in this country, and 
 were unquestionably very useful books ; and might at that time 
 have been recommended as well (o young persons who had no 
 guides, as to tutors, for whose express use the titles seem to 
 denote they were, by the authors, designed. Since which the 
 " Tutor's Guide," by Charles Vyse, became a popular school- 
 book: this is a much more elaborate work than the other two} 
 it includes a number of subjects not necessary as a mere intro 
 duction to Arithmetic ; such as the mensuration.of solids, as 
 well as superfices, the method of obtaining the specific gra- 
 vities of bodies, the application of the rules of arithmetic to 
 the principles of Chronology, &c. Mr. Vyse published a key 
 to his work, containing solutions of all the questions in the 
 " Guide." 
 
 Dr. Hutton's Treatise is used in many schools, to this also 
 there is a key. The same may be said of Keith's, of Good- 
 acre's, Molyneux's, and others. The first part of Molyneux's 
 is excellent, *as far as it goes, which embraces the four 
 first rules. Reduction, the Rule of Three, and Practice. We 
 think it not a judicious plan to throw the doctrine and prac- 
 tice of Vulgar Fractions, so far forward as many authors do, 
 because the knowledge of them is required at an early period. 
 The four rules in Vulgar Fractions, are as easily learnt as any 
 other part of arithmetic, when properly taught, and should 
 perhaps be immediately learnt after the same rules in whole 
 numbers. 
 
 Mr. Bonnycastle's ** Scholar's Guide " is an excellent 
 elementary treatise, in the notes are neat demonstrations of 
 each rule. A few years since the same author published an 
 octavo edition of his work, with various alterations, additions, 
 and improvements ; to which he has prefixed a neat histori- 
 cal introduction, and has added a Table of the Squares and 
 Cubes of all the numbers, up to 2000 inclusive, and a table 
 of the square and cube roots of the same numbers. He has 
 likewise given a table of all the prime numbers, from 1 to
 
 430 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 100,000, that is, of all those numbers, which cannot be divid-' 
 ed into any number of equal integral parts greater than unity } 
 such are the numbers, 3, 5, 7, 13, 17, &c. A much larger 
 table extending to 217,219 is given in Dr. Rees's great work, 
 the New Cyclopedia, under the article Prime Numbers, 
 which, says the author of that article, is double the extent to 
 which they are carried in any other English work, and which 
 it is presumed may be found useful in a great variety of cases 
 connected with arithmetical and numeral problems. 
 
 Mr. Bonnycastle's " Scholar's Guide" seems deficient in its 
 examples, which cannot well be too numerous for young be- 
 ginners : the rules are easily understood, and nothing but con- 
 siderable practice can give facility in the operations. To ob- 
 viate this objection, the following work was published, " A 
 System of Practical Arithmetic, applicable to the present 
 state of trade and money^transactions, illustrated witli nume- 
 rous examples under each rule," by the Rev. J. Joyce. A 
 large portion of this work is devoted to examples of all kinds, 
 intended to illustrate the rules, which contain much useful 
 information applicable to the advancing stages of life. The 
 author of this work, after giving reasons for introducing 
 Logarithms, the doctrine of Annuities, Reversions, Leases, 
 &.C. into his book, says, " A book of Arithmetic, for schools, 
 should contain every thing necessary to be known, previously 
 to the study of Algebra ; and for the sake of those who wish 
 to proceed to that science, it should be introductory to it. 
 This, it is believed, will be found to be one of the character- 
 istics of the work now offered to the public. There are, 
 however, thousands who never trouble themselves to learn 
 beyond the elements of the arithmetic which they acquire at 
 school ; who, looking to trade and commerce as the objects of 
 their future lives, seek only for that knowledge which in some 
 way or other is applicable to those objects. These, in almost 
 every rank and situation, have frequent occasion to calculate 
 the interest of money and the discount of bills ; and to as- 
 certain the value of annuities on single and joint lives, of
 
 ARITHMETIC. 431 
 
 survivorships, of leases, of reversionary interests, of funded 
 property, and of freehold estates." To render these subjects 
 fuiuiliar to young people was one chief object of the work 
 last mentioned, and it is presumed that it has been at- 
 tained. 
 
 A key to this system of practical arithmetic has been 
 published, into which, unfortunately, several errors crept, 
 owing to the proprietors having employed a person to correct 
 the proofs who was incompetent to the task, instead of con- 
 signing the business, as they ought, to the author. 
 
 There are besides the introductory books already mentioned, 
 some on a much larger and more expensive scale ; among 
 these may be mentioned, one by Malcolm, and another in- 
 titled " Arithmetic, Rational, and Practical," by John Mair. 
 We may add, that the most considerable madiematicians have 
 in former times, as well as in modern days, employed their 
 talents in illustrating the rules of arithmetic, and in investigat- 
 ing the properties of numbers. 
 
 It may be farther added, that arithmetical operations have 
 been performed by mechanism, and machines of various kinds 
 have been invented to perform the fundamental rules. These, 
 however, can go no fartlier : in cases where any degree of 
 invention is necessary, the aid of the mind is required. Na- 
 pier's rods are familiar to every one who has attended to the 
 subject in hand. In the reign of Charles II. Sir Samuel 
 Morland invented two arithmetical machines, of which he 
 published an account under the title " The Description and 
 Use of two Arithmetic Instruments, together with a short trea- 
 tise, explaining the ordinary operations of arithmetic." This 
 work, which is no\^^ very rare, is illustrated with twelve 
 plates, in which the different parts of the machines are ex- 
 hibited ; and from these it should seem that the four funda- 
 mental rules in arithmetic are readily worked, and, to use the 
 author's own words, " without charging the memory, disturb- 
 ing the mind, or exposing the operations to any uncertainty." 
 The present Earl Stanhope about thirty years since invented
 
 432 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 and caused to be manufactured two raachines for the like 
 purposes as those of Mr. Morland. The smallest of these 
 instruments, intended for addition and subtraction, is not 
 much larger than an octavo volume, and by means of dial- 
 plates and indices the operations are performed with un- 
 deviating accuracy. The second, and by far the most cu- 
 rious instrument, is about half the . size of a common 
 table writing-desk. By this, problems of almost any extent in 
 multiplication and division, are solved without the possibility 
 of a mistake. The multiplier and multiplicand in one instance, 
 and the divisor and dividend in the other, are first properly 
 arranged; then, by turning a winch, the product or quotient is 
 found.
 
 CHAP. XXIX. 
 
 MATHEMATICS, 
 
 Continued. 
 
 Introduction Algebra defined, and the term explained History of Alge. 
 brai Origin of the Name of the Science from whom derived by 
 whom improved. Modern authors: Ward Jones Newton. Alge- 
 braical definitions and symbols. Introdnctory treatises: Penning 
 Bonnycastle Walker Bridge Frend Simpson Maclanrin Saun- 
 derson Dodson Bland Euler Hales, &c. 
 
 A LTHOUGH a competent knowledge of common arith- 
 metic should be followed by Algebra, yet the student may, 
 and, perhaps, ought to combine, with his analytical studies, 
 a diligent* attention to Geometry, of which we shall shortly 
 speak more at large. Algebraical and Geometrical studies 
 should go hand in hand, though for convenience, in this work, 
 we are obliged to speak of them separately; and algebra being 
 but a more general kind of arithmetic, we begin with that. 
 
 Algebra is a general method of resolving mathematical pro- 
 blems by means of equations : or it is a method of compu- 
 tation by symbols, which have been invented for expressing 
 the quantities that are the objects of this science, and shewing 
 their mutual relation and dependence. It has been thought that 
 these quantities were, in the infancy of science, denoted by 
 their names at full length, which being found inconvenient, 
 
 VOL. I. , 2 F
 
 434 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 \vere succeeded by abbreviations, or by their initials. At length 
 certain letters of the alphabet were adopted, as general repre- 
 sentations of all quantities ; 6ther symbols or signs were intro- 
 duced to prevent circumlocution, and to facilitate the compa- 
 rison of various quantities with one another ; and in conse- 
 quence of the use of letters and other general symbols, algebra 
 obtained the name of literal or universal arithmetic. 
 
 The origin of the name algebra is not easily ascertained : 
 from its prefix Al, it is supposed to be of Arabic original ; 
 but its etymology has been variously assigned by different au- 
 thors. Some have assumed that the word comes from an 
 Arabic term, to restore, to which was added another, to com- 
 pare, and hence it was formerly denominated the science of 
 restitution and comparison ; or resolution and equation. Ac- 
 cordingly, Lucas de Bur^o, the first European author on 
 Algebra, calls it the rule of restoration and opposition. Others 
 have derived it from the word Geber, which was either the 
 name of a celebrated mathematician to whom the invention 
 of the science is ascribed ; or from the word Geber, which 
 forms, with the particle al, the term algebra, signifying a 
 reductioii of broken numbers or fractions into integers. The 
 science has, been distinguished by other names besides algebra. 
 Lucas de Burgo calls it Vurte magiore, or greater art, in 
 opposition to common arithmetic, which is denominated Parte 
 mitiore, or the lesser art. 
 
 Some writers have defined algebra, as the art of resolving 
 mathematical problems, but this is rather the idea attached to 
 analysis, or the analytic art in general, than to algebra, which 
 is only a particular branch of it. Algebra consists of two 
 parts, viz. the method of calculating magnitudes or quantities 
 represented by letters or other characters, and the mode of 
 applying these calculations to the solution of pr(5blems. Whcu 
 algebra is applied to the solution of problems, all the quanti- 
 ties that are involved in the problem are expressed by letters ; 
 and all the conditions that serve their mutual relation, and by 
 which they are compared with one another, arc signified by
 
 ALGEBRA. 435 
 
 their appropriate characters, and they are tlms thrown into 
 one or more equations, as the case requires : this is called 
 synthesis, or composition. When this has been done, the 
 unknown quantity is disengaged, by a variety of analytical 
 operations, from those that are known, and brought to stand 
 alone on one side of the equation, while the known quantities 
 are on the other side ; xind thus the value of the unknown 
 quantity is investigated and obtahied. This process is called 
 analysis, or resolution ; hence algebra is a species of the 
 analytic art, and is called the modern analysis, in contradis- 
 tinction to the ancient analysis, which chiefly regarded geome- 
 try and its application. 
 
 The origin of the science of algebra, like the derivation of 
 the term, is not easily determined. The most ancient treatise, 
 on that part of analytics properly called algebra, now known, 
 is that of Diophantus, a Greek author, who flourished in the 
 fourth century of the Christian aera ; and who, it appears, 
 wrote thirteen books *' Arithmeticorum," though only six of 
 them are preserved, which .were printed together with a 
 single book on multangular numbers, in a Latin translation 
 by Xylander, in 1575, and afterwards in Greek and Latin, 
 with a commentaiy, in l621 and I67O, by Gaspar Bachet and 
 M. Fermat. There must, however, have been other works 
 on the subject, though unknown to the moderns, because these 
 do not contain the elements of the science ; they are merely 
 collections of diflicult questions relating to square and cube 
 numbers, and other curious properties of numbers, with 
 their solutions. To have been able to form these questions, 
 and to have arrived at the solutions, required complete ele- 
 mentary treatises, well known to the author, and something 
 similar, no doubt, to existing elementary books, as will appear 
 from the following considerations. 
 
 In his prefatory remarks, addressed to a person by the name 
 of Dionysius, the author recites the names and generations of 
 the powers, as the square, cube, biquadrate, &c. and gives 
 them names according to the sura of the indices of the pow- 
 
 2 F S
 
 436 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 ers, and he marks those powers with the Greek initials, an6 
 the unknown quantity he expressed by the word agiG/xo?, or 
 the number. In treating on the multiplication and division of 
 simple species, he shews what the product and quotient will 
 be, observing that minus, multiplied by minus, produces plus ; 
 and that minus into plus, gives minus. Supposing his reader 
 acquainted with the common operations of the first four rules^ 
 viz. addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division of com- 
 pound species, he proceeds to remark on the preparation of the 
 equations that are deduced from the questions, which is now cal- 
 led the reduction of equations, by collecting like quantities, 
 changing the signs of those that are removed from one side of the 
 equation to the other, which operation is termed by the 
 moderns transposition, so as to bring the equation to simple 
 terms. Then depressing it to a lower degree by equal division, 
 when the powers of the unknown quantity are in every term ; 
 which reduction of the complex equation being made, the 
 author proceeds no farther, but merely states tvhat the root is, 
 without giving any rules for finding it, or for the resolution of 
 the equations, thus intimating, that rules for this purpose were 
 to be found in some other work or works well known at the 
 time, whether they were the productions of his own or another 
 mind. The great excellence of Diophantus' collection of 
 questions, which seems to be a series of exercises for rules 
 M'hich had been elsewhere given, is the ii^at mode of notation 
 or substitution, which being once made, the reduction to the 
 final equation is obvious. Tlie work indicates much accurate 
 knowledge of the science of algebra, but as the author redu- 
 ces all his notations either to simple equations or simple quad- 
 ratics, it does not appear how far his knowledge extended to 
 the resolution of compound or affected equations. 
 
 It has, however, been thought tliat algebra was not wholly 
 unknown to the ancient mathematicians, long before the age 
 of Diophantus ; and there have been those who observed, or 
 who thought they observed, the traces of it in many places, 
 though it seems as if the authors bad intentionally concealed it^
 
 ALGEBRA. 437 
 
 Something of this appear^ in Euclid, or at least in his com- 
 mentator Theon, who says that Plato had begun to teach it. 
 There are other instances of it in Pappus, and still more in 
 Archimedes and Apollonius, but it. must be observed, that the 
 analysis of these authors is rather geometrical than algebraical ; 
 and hence Diophantus may be considered as the only author 
 come down to us among the Greeks, who treated profe/ssedly 
 of algebra. 
 
 Our knowledge of the science of algebra was derived, not 
 from Diophantus, but from the Moors or Arabians, but 
 whether the Greeks or Arabians were the inventors of it, has 
 been a subject of dispute, into which we shall not enter. It 
 is, at any rate probable, that it was much more ancient than 
 Diophantus, because, as we have seen, his treatise refers to, 
 and depends upon works similar and prior to his own existing 
 treatise. But wherever algebra was invented and first cultl- 
 vaCfed, the science, and also the name of it were transmitted 
 to Europe, and particularly to Spain, by the Arabians or 
 Saracens, about the year 1 100, or perhaps somewhat sooner. 
 Italy took the lead in the cultivation of this science after its 
 introduction into Europe, and Lucas de Burgo, to whom we 
 have already referred, a Franciscan friar, was the first author 
 on the subject, who wrote several treatises between the years 
 1475 and 1510, btft his principal work, entitled " Summa 
 Arithmeticae et Geometriae," &c., was published at Venice in 
 1494, and afterwards in 1.523. In this work he mentions se- 
 veral writers, and particularly Leonardus Pisanus, placed by 
 Vossius about the year 1400, and said to have been the first 
 of the moderns who wrote of algebra, from whom he derived 
 his knowledge of that science ; and from the treatise of LeOr 
 nardus, not now extant, the contents of that of Lucas were 
 chiefly collected. Leonardus was supposed to have flourished 
 about the end of the fourteenth century, but it is now ascer- 
 tained from an ancient manuscript, that he lived two hundred 
 years before this, or at the very commencement of the thir- 
 teenth century, and of course, that Italy is indebted to hip)
 
 438 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 for its first knowledge of algebra^. His proper name was 
 Bonacci : he was a merchant, who traded in the sea-ports of 
 Africa and the Levant. Being anxious to obtain an acquaint- 
 ance with the sciences that were eagerly cultivated among the 
 Arabians, and particularly that of Algebra, he travelled into 
 that country, and it should seem from the authority of the ma- 
 nuscript above referred to, that Leonardus had penetrated 
 deeply into the secrets of the algebraic analysis ; that he was 
 particularly acquainted with the analysis of problems similar 
 in kind to those of Diophantus, and that he had made long 
 voyages into Arabia, and other Eastern countries, with the ex- 
 press view of gaining a deeper knowledge of the mathematics. 
 According to Lucas de Burgo, the knowledge of the Euro- 
 peans in his time, or about the year 1 500, extended no farther 
 than quadratic equations, of which they used only the positive 
 roots ; that they admitted only one unknow n quantity ; that 
 they had no marks or signs either for quantities or operatiohs, 
 excepting a few abbreviations of the wor<ls or names ; and 
 that the art was merely employed in resolving certain numeral 
 problems. If the science had been carried farther in Africa 
 thani quadratic equations, which 'was probably the case, as has 
 been inferred from an Arabic manuscript, said to be on cubic 
 equations, deposited in the library of Leyden, by Warner, the 
 Europeans had, at this period, obtained only an imperfect 
 knowledge of it. 
 
 ThepubUcalion of the works of Lucas de Burgo promoted 
 the study, and extended the knowledge of algebra, so that 
 early in the sixteenth century, or about the year 1305, Scipio 
 Ferreus, professor of mathematics at Bononin, discovered the 
 first rule for resolving one case of a compound cubic equation. 
 Cardaiius was the next Italian that distinguished himself, by 
 the cultivation and improvement of algebra : he published nine 
 books of his arithmetical writings, in 1539, at Milan, where he 
 practised physic, and read lectures on the mathematics : six 
 years afterwards he published a tenth book containing the 
 whole doctrine of cubic equations. Cardan denominates
 
 ALGEBRA. 439 
 
 algebra, after Lucas de Burgo and others, " Ars magna," or 
 " Regulae Algebraica," and ascribes the mvention of it, to 
 Mahomet, the son of Moses, an Arabian. Dr. Hutton, io 
 a curious and very elaborate article, Algebra, in his Dic- 
 tionary, has given a full account of Cardan's treatise, and of 
 the methods which he took to obtain the discovery of solving 
 three cases of cubic equations from Tartalea. To this ar- 
 ticle we refer our readers, premising, however, that it will not 
 be intelligible to any but those who have made some progress 
 in the science. 
 
 Tartalea, or Tartaglia, of Bressia, was, as we have seen, the 
 contemporary of Cardan, and published his book of Algebra, 
 entitled " Quesiti h Invenzioni diverse," in 1546, at Venice, 
 where he resided as public lecturer in mathematics. This 
 work was dedicated to Henry VIII. of England, and consists 
 of nine books, the last of which contains all those questions 
 that relate to arithmetic and algebra. They comprehend ex- 
 ercises of simple and quadratic equations, and evince the great 
 skill of the author in the science of algebra. In 1556, Tartalea 
 published at Venice, a very large work, in folio, on arithmetic, 
 geometry, and algebra, the latter of which was incomplete, 
 going no farther than quadratic equations. Michael Stifelius, 
 and John Scheubelius, were contemporaries of Tartalea and 
 Cardan. 1^ " Arithmetica Integra" of the former, is deem- 
 ed by Dr. Hutton an excellent treatise on arithmetic and al- 
 gebra. It was printed at Norimberg, in 1544. Stifelius 
 ascribes the invention of the science to Geber, an Arabian 
 astronomer. 
 
 Scheubelius, professor of mathematics at Tubingen, pub- 
 lished several treatises on arithmetic and algebra. He is the 
 first modern algebraist who mentions Diophantus, as the per- 
 son to whom writers ascribe this art. This is recorded in his 
 work, entitled " Algebrae Compendiosa facilisque Descriptio, 
 qua depromuntur magna Arithmetices miracula." Dr. Hutton 
 has analysed the work, and has ascribed to this, and the 
 other jiuthors already mentioned, the chief inventions due to
 
 U& MATHEMATICS. 
 
 them in perfecting the science, into the minutiae of which ouf 
 limits do not permit us to enter. Schcubelius treated of only 
 two orders of tqiiations, viz. the simple and quadratic ; but he 
 gives the four fundamental rules in the arithmetic of surds. 
 As he takes no notice of cubic equations, it is probable, that, 
 though they were known in Italy, this author had not heard 
 of them in Germany. 
 
 Robert Recorde, in England, published the first part of 
 his arithmetic in 1562, and the second part in 1557, under 
 the title of the " Whetstone of Witte," &c. The algebra of 
 Peletarius was printed in Paris in 1558, with the following 
 title,- " Jacobi Peletarii Cenomani, de Occulte P%rte Nume- 
 rorum, quam Algebram vocant." Peter Ramus published 
 his Arithmetic and Algebra about the year 1560. He ex- 
 presses the powers by /, q, c, b, being the initials of latus, 
 quadratus, cubus, and biquadratus ; nevertheless, he only treats 
 of simple and quadratic equations. 
 
 In 1567, Nonius, or, as it is often spelt, Nunez, a Portu- 
 guese, published his Algebra in Spanish, though he says it 
 had been written in the Portuguese language thirty years be- 
 fore. Omitting some others, we njay observe, that Simon 
 Stevinus, of Bruges, published his Algebra very soon after his 
 Arithmetic, which appeared in 1585, and both were printed 
 lu an edition of his works in 1634, with notes <ihd additions 
 bv Albert Girard. About the same time with Stevinus, ap- 
 peared Francis Vieta, who contributed more to the improve- 
 ment of algebraic equations than any former author. His 
 algebraical works were Mritten about the year l6(J(); some of 
 them were not published tilt after his death in 1603. In 
 1646, all his mathematical works were collected by Francis 
 Schooten. Vieta's improvements comprehend, among others, 
 the following particulars. He introduced the general use of 
 the letters of the alphabet, to denote indefinite given quanti- 
 ties, and he expresses the unknown quantities by the vowels, 
 in capitals. A, E, I, O, II, Y, and the known ones by the 
 50nsonant<<, B, C, D, &.c. He also invented many terms and
 
 ALGEBRA. 441 
 
 forms of expression, which are still in use ; as co-efficient, 
 affirmative, and negative, pure and adfected, or affected, and 
 the line, or vinculum, over compound quantities, thus: 
 A+B+C, - r^ipr*. 
 
 Albert Girard, an ingenious Dutch mathematician, the 
 editor of Sievinus's arithmetic, who died in 1633, deserves 
 notice on account of his work entitled "Invention Nouvelle 
 en I'Algebra, tant pour la Solution des Equations, que pour 
 recoignostre le nombre des Solutions qu'elles regoivent, avec 
 plusieurs choses qui sont necessaires k la perfection de ceste 
 divine Science." The next person who claims particular no- 
 tice, is Thomas Harriot, who died at the age of sixty years, in 
 3621, and whose Algebra was published by Walter Warner, 
 in 1631, under the title of " Artis Analytics Praxis, ad 
 iEquationes Algebraicas nova, expedita, et generali methodo, 
 resolvendas," a work which, according to Dr. Hutton, shews, 
 in all its parts, marks of great genius and originality. On the 
 foundation laid by Harriot, says Dr. AYallis, Pes Cartes, 
 without naming him, hath built the greatest part, if not the 
 whole, of his algebra or geometry, without which, he adds, 
 " that whole superstructure of Des Cartes had never been." 
 Harriot introduced the uniform use of the small letters, a, b, 
 c, d, &c. expressing the unknown quantities by the vowels, 
 and the known ones by the consonants, joining them together 
 in the form^of a word, to represent the product of any num- 
 ber of these literal quantities, thus a b c signified that a, A, 
 and c, were multiplied together. Oughtred, contemporary 
 with Harlot, was born in the year 1573, and died in l660. 
 His " Clavis" was published in 1631; he chiefly follows 
 Vieta, in the notation by capitals. This author, in algebraical 
 multiplication, either joins the letters in the form of a word, 
 or connects them with the sign x , introducing, for the first 
 time, this character of multiplication ; thus the three terms 
 A X A, or A A, or Aq, meant the same quantity. He intro- 
 duced many useful contractions in the multiplication and di- 
 vision of decimals, and he used the following form for the
 
 442 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 terms of proportion 7 . 9 : : 28 . 36, which is nearly the same 
 as that now in use. 
 
 Des Cartes published his Geometry in lC37, which may 
 be considered as an appHcation of algebra to geometry, and 
 not as a separate treatise on either of these sciences. His 
 inventions and discoveries comprehend the application of al- 
 gebra to the geometry of curve lines, the construction of equa- 
 tions of the higher orders, and a rule for resolving biquadratic 
 equations, by means of a cubic and two quadratics. With a 
 view to the more easy application of equations to the con- 
 struction of problems, Des Cartes mentions many particulars 
 concerning the nature and reduction of equations, states 
 them in his own language and manner, and frequently ac- 
 companied with his own improvements. Here he chiefly fol- 
 lowed Cardan, Viefa, and Harriot, and especially the last, 
 explaining some of their rules aiid^ discoveries more distinctly, 
 with variations in the notation, in which he puts the first 
 letters of the alphabet, a, b, c, d, &c. for known quantities, 
 and the latter lettei-s, m, x, y, z, for unknown quantities. 
 
 Fermat, who published Diophantus' Arithmetic, with va- 
 luable notes, was a contemporary of Des Cartes, and a com- 
 petitor for some of his most valuable discoveries. He had, 
 before the publication of Des Cartes' Geometry, applied al- 
 gebra to curve lines, and had discovered a method of tangents, 
 and a method of maximis et minimis, approaching very nearly 
 to the method of fluxions; to be noticed hereafter. At this 
 period, Algebra had acquired a regular and permanent form, 
 and from this time, the writers on the whole, or detached 
 parts of the science, became so numerous, that it would be 
 impossible in a short article to enumerate all their works ; 
 we shall accordingly only mention those that appear the niost 
 prominent. 
 
 The Geometry of Des Cartes engaged the attention of 
 several mathematicians in Holland, where it was first pub- 
 lished, and also in France and England. Francis Schooten, 
 professor at Leyden, was one of tbfe earliest cultivators of the
 
 ALGEBRA. 443 
 
 new geometry; and, in 1649, le published a translation of 
 Des Cartes' work into the Latin language. Huygens, illus- 
 trious for his many discoveries in mechanics, directed his at- 
 tention to the algebraic analysis ; and, among other works, he 
 published a short piece, entitled " De Ratiociniis in Ludo 
 Alae," in order to shew the usefulness of algebra. Herigone, 
 in 1634, published at Paris the first course of mathematics, 
 in five volumes, 8vo. containing a treatise on algebra, which, 
 according to Dr. Hutton, bears evident marks of originality 
 and ingenuity. Cavalerius, in the following year, published 
 his " lodivisibles," which introduced a new aera into analytical 
 science, and new modes of computation. In 1655, Dr. 
 Wallis published his. " Arithmetica Infinitorum," which was 
 a great improvement on the Indivisibles of Cavalerius, and 
 led the way to infinite series, the binomial theorem, and the 
 method of fluxions. 
 
 Mr. Kinckhuysen, in I66I, published a treatise of algebra 
 in the Dutch language, which Sir Isaac Newton, when pro- 
 fessor of mathematics at Cambridge, used and improved, and 
 which he designed to republish, with his method of fluxions 
 and infinite series, but was prevented by the accidental burn- 
 ing of some of his papers. In 1665, or I666, Sir Isaac 
 Newton made several of his most valuable discoveries, though 
 they were not published till a later period ; such as the binor 
 mial theorem, the method of fluxions and infinite series, the 
 Quadrature, rectification, &c. of curves, the investigation of 
 the roots of all sorts of equations, both numeral and literal, in 
 infinite converging series, the reversion of series, &g. 
 
 The " Elements of Algebra" were published by John 
 Kersey, in 1675, in two volumes, folio, containing the illus- 
 tration of the science, and tlie nature of equations, the expli- 
 cation of Diophantus' problems, and many additions concern- 
 ing mathematical composition and resolution. This work is 
 thought by Dr. Hutton to be ample and complete. Dr. 
 Wallis's Treatise of Algebra, both historical and practical, 
 shewing the origin, progress, and advancement of it $rom
 
 444 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 time to time, was published in 1685, is folio. In 1687, Dr, 
 Halley communicated in the Philosophical Transactions the 
 construction of cubic and biquadratic equations, by a parabola 
 nd circle, with improvements of the methods of Des Cartes, 
 Baker, &c. ; and a memoir on the number of the roots of 
 equations, with their limits and signs. 
 
 Mr. John Ward published in 1695 " A Compendium of 
 Algebra;" and, in 1706, the first edition of ".The Young 
 Mathematician's Guide," which includes Arithmetic, vulgar 
 and decimal; Algebra; the Elements of Geometry; Conic 
 Sections; the Arithmetic of Infinites; and an Appeofiix of 
 Practical Gauging. This work was, a century ago, extremely 
 popular, and passed through several editions ; in the Preface 
 to tlie fifth edition, in 1722, the author says, that his " book 
 has answered to its title so well, that I believe I may truly 
 say, without vanity, that this treatise hath proved a very help> 
 fjul guide to nearly five thousand persons, and perhaps most 
 of them such as would never have looked into the Mathe- 
 matics at all but for it." In describing his plan, Mr. Ward 
 says, " I began with an unit in Arithmetic, and a point in 
 Geometry; and, from these foundations, proceeded gradually 
 on, leading the young learner, step by step, with all the plain- 
 ness possible." 
 
 This book, notwithstanding the high reputatiofi which it 
 had in the beginning of the lart century, and to its intrinsic 
 merit we have heard several able mathematicians, now no 
 more, bear most decisive evidence, as having themselves been 
 almost, or perhaps altogether, indebted to it for their delight 
 in science, is now seldom inquired for. It has made way for 
 others, which we shall describe hereafter, and which seem 
 better adapted to the wants of young persons at this period. 
 Perhaps, in nothing, is the present age, including the last thirty 
 years, more distinguished than in the production of elementary 
 works in useful knowledge and real science. 
 
 Very similar to Ward's " Young Mathematician's Guide," 
 wa# ^Ir, Jones's " Syi\opsis Palmariorum Matheseos," pub-j
 
 ALGEBRA. 445 
 
 lished in 1706. This compendium contains, thongh in a 
 shorter compass, the same subjects as those treated of by 
 Mr. Ward, with the addition of the principles of Projection, 
 the elements of Trigonometry, Mechanics, ayd Optics. Tlie 
 author, who was father to the late illustrious Sir William 
 Jones, said he designed his work for the benefit, and adapted 
 to the capacities of beginners. It appears, however, to have 
 been rather too brief for the purpose intended. Mr. Jones 
 published in 1711 a collection of Sir Isaac Newton's papers, 
 entitled " Analysis per quantitatum series, fluxiones, ac dif- 
 ferentias ; cum enumeratione linearum tertii ordinis." Sir 
 Isaac Newton's " Arithmetica Universalis, sive de Compo- 
 sitione et Resolutione Arithmetica liber," was published in 
 1707, since which, it has gone through many editions, and is 
 included in Dr. Horsley's edition of Sir Isaac Newton's works, 
 in five volumes, 4to., the Arithmetica standing first in the col- 
 lection. This treatise was ' the text-book of the author at 
 Cambridge, and though not intended for publication, it con- 
 tains many very considerable improvements in analytics. Com- 
 mentaries have been published on this work, by S'Gravesande 
 and others. Iji the year 1769, Dr. Wilder, mathematical 
 professor of Trinity College, Dublin, published a translation 
 of the " Arithmetica Universalis," which had been made by 
 Mr.- Ralphson, and corrected by Mr. Cunn. This he illus- 
 trated and explained in a series of notes ; to the right under*- 
 standing of which work, thus presented to the public, with an 
 additional treatise upon the measures of ratios, Dr. Wilder 
 says it is only necessary that the student should be well 
 versed in the Elements of Euclid, and be master of common 
 arithmetic, as it is taught in the schools. 
 
 Without pretending to enumerate all the introductory works 
 to this science, that have, of late years, been published, we 
 shall point out' to our readers a sufficient number to allow 
 them a choice, and mention some of their chief, or distin- 
 guishing merits. It is presumed, that the pupil, previously to 
 his entrance upon a course of algebra, is master of the ele-
 
 446 MATHExMATICS. 
 
 mentary rules of common arithmetic ; and if he is conversant 
 with fractions and decimals, he will enter with more advan- 
 tage upon the study of algebra. 
 
 Previously t(^ enumerating particular treatises on Algebra, 
 we may, in few words, explain the nature of the subject gene- 
 rally, and the characters which are used by almost all au- 
 thors. 
 
 Every figure, or common arithmetical character, has a de- 
 terminate value ; thus the figures 5, 7, 9, always represent the 
 same number, viz. the collections of five, seven, and nine 
 units; but algebraical characters must be general, and inde- 
 pendent of any particular signification, adapted to the repre- 
 sentation of all sorts of quantities, according to the nature of 
 the questions to which they are applied. To answer genera! 
 purposes, they should be simple, and easy to describe, so as 
 hot to be troublesome in operation, nor difficult to remember. 
 These advantages meet in the letters of the alphabet, which 
 are therefore usually adopted to represent magnitudes in al- 
 gebra ; and we have shewn above, in what way, and by whom 
 they were introduced. 
 
 In algebraical investigations, some quantities are assumed 
 as known or given, and the value of others is unknown, and to 
 be found out ; the former are commonly represented by the 
 leading letters of the alphabet, , h, r, d, &c. ; the latter by 
 the final letters, er, x, y, z. Though it often tends to relieve 
 the memory, if the initial letter of the subject under consi- 
 deration be made use of, whether that be known or unknown: 
 thus r may denote a radius, b a base, p a perpendicular, s a 
 side, d density, m mass, &c. 
 
 The characters used to denote the operations, are princi- 
 pally these : 
 
 + signifies addition, and is named plus. 
 
 signifies subtraction, and is named minus, 
 
 X denotes multiplication, and is named into. 
 
 -f- denotes division, and is named "by. 
 
 -^ t tlie mark of radicality denotes the square root; with a
 
 ALGEBRA. 447 
 
 3 before it, thus \/, tUe cube root; with a 4, thus ^v^j lli 
 fourth, or biquadrate root ; thus "v^, the th root. 
 
 Proportion is commonly denoted by a colon between tlie 
 antecedent and consequent of each ratio, and a double colon 
 between the two ratios: thus, if a be to h as c to J, we state 
 it as follows, a:h: : C'.d. 
 
 :=. is the symbol of equality. 
 
 Hence, a + 6 denotes the sum of the quantities represented^ 
 
 by a and b. 
 
 a b denotes their difference when b is the less: fe , 
 
 their difference when is the less : a^b, the difference when 
 
 it is not known which is the greater, ax 6, or a . &, or abf 
 
 represents the product of a multiplied into b. 
 
 a-i-b, or J, shews that the number represented by a is 
 
 to be divided by that which is represented by b. 
 
 T is the reciprocal of - , and - the reciprocal of a. 
 
 a:b: :c:d denotes that a is in the same proportion to b^ 
 as c h to d. 
 
 xzza b + c IS an equation, shewing that x is equal to the 
 difference of a and b, added to the quantity c. 
 
 V^ fl, or a , IS the square root of a ; '\/a, or a , is the 
 
 X 
 
 cube root of a; and "'\/a, or a , is the wth root of a. 
 
 d^ is the square of a,- a^ the cube of a; a^ the fourth 
 power of a ; and a"^ the wth power of a. 
 
 a + bxc, or {a + b) c, is the product of the compound 
 quantity a + 6 multiplied by the simple quantity c. Using 
 the bar , or the parenthesis ( ), as a vinculum, to con- 
 nect several quantities into one.. 
 
 a^b-i-a b, or t> expressed like a fraction, is the quo- 
 tient of rt + 6 divided by a b. 
 
 5a denotes that the quantity a is to be taken 5 times, and 
 7. {b + c) is 7 times b + c. And these numbers, 5 or 7,
 
 448 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 shewing how often the quantities are 'to be taken, or multi- 
 plied, are called co-efficients. 
 
 Like quantities, are those which consist of the same letters, 
 and powers. As a and 3a ; or a6 and Aab ; or Sarbc and 
 5a'bc. 
 
 Unlike quantities, are those which consist of different letters, 
 or different powers. As a and b ; or 2a and a^ ; or 3ab^ and 
 Sabc. 
 
 Simple quantities, or monomials, are those which consist of 
 one term only. As 3a, or-5ab, or Gabc^. 
 
 Compound quantities, are those whrdi consist of two or 
 more terms. As a-\-b, or a -h 26 3c. 
 
 And when the compound quantity consists of two terms, it 
 is called a binomial ; when of three terms, it is a trinomial ; 
 when of four terms, a quadrinomial ; more than four terms, a 
 multinomial, or polynomial. 
 
 Positive or affirmative quantities, are those which are to be 
 added, or have the sign + . As a or + a, or ab ; for when 
 a quantity is found without a sign, it is understood to be posi- 
 tive, or to have the sign + prefixed. 
 
 Negative quantities, are those which are to be subtracted, 
 as a, or 2a6, or Sab"^. 
 
 Like signs, are either all positive ( + ), or all negative ( ). 
 
 Unlike signs, are when some are positive ( + ), and others 
 negative ( ) 
 
 In every quantity we may consider two things, its value, 
 and its manner of existing with regard to other magnitudes 
 which enter with it into the same calculation. The vahie of 
 a quantity is expressed by the letter or by the character des- 
 tined to represent the number of its units. But as to the 
 xnode of existence, with regard to others, some rn^gnitudes may 
 affect the calculation either in the same or in opposite senses ; 
 which renders it necessary to distinguish two sorts of quanti- 
 ties, positive and negative. Thus whether a man have a 
 thousand pounds in property or stock, or be a thousand pounds 
 in debt, may be represented by characters, either arithmetical
 
 ALGEBRA. 449 
 
 or algebraical ; but since an actual property is directly oppo- 
 site in its nature to a debt, the two must be marked by dif- 
 ferent symbols : so that, if property be reckoned a positive 
 quantity, and marked + , a debt owed must be estimated as 
 negative, and marked . Again, if, commencing at the 
 same point, motion towards the east be considered as a posi- 
 tive quantity in an investigation, motion towards the west, 
 which is opposite to the former, must enter the same calcula-- 
 tion as a negative quantity. If the elevations of the sun 
 above the horizon are considered 'as positive quantities, the 
 depressions of the sun below the horizon must be treated as 
 negative quantities. It is the same with all quantities^ which^ 
 when considered together, exist differently with respect to one 
 another. 
 
 A residual quantity is a binomial having one of the terms 
 negative. As a 2b. 
 
 The power of a quantity (a), is its square (a^), or cube (a^), 
 or biquadrate (a?), &c. ; called also the 2d power, or 3d 
 power, or 4th power, &c. 
 
 Tlie index, or exponent, is the number which denotes the 
 power or root of a. quantity. So 2 is the exponent of the 
 square or 2d power a^ ; and 3 is the index of the cube or 3d 
 
 power ; and 4. is the index of the square root a or ^a ; and 
 
 I 
 
 J fk the index of the cube root a or ^\/a. 
 
 A rational quantity, is that which has no radical sign (-\/) 
 or index annexed to it. As a, or Sab. 
 
 An irrational quantity, or surd, is that which has not an 
 
 exact root, or is expressed by means of the radical sign \/. 
 
 I 
 
 As \/2, or \/a, or ^\/S cr ^ 
 
 One of the easiest and most simple Introductions to this 
 science, is that by Fenning, which, if our recollection serves 
 us, is introduced with an account of fractions by common 
 numbers. It is many years since we have seeq this work, 
 anu, perhaps, it is not now to be met with but on stalls, or 
 
 VOL. I. 2 G
 
 4d6 mathkMatics. 
 
 in second-liand catalogues. In lieu of this, we may notic* 
 an excellent little treatise by Mr. Bonnycastle, entitled " An 
 Introduction to Algebra, with Notes and Observations for the 
 Use of Schools, &c." Tliis compendium is formed upon the 
 model of larger works, and is intended as an introduction to 
 them. It supposes, however, that the person making "use of 
 it, as a first book, on the -subject, has the advantage of a living 
 instructor to aid him in difficulties that will inevitably occur 
 to check his progress. To those who have no instructor, we 
 would recommend a work, which, from a slight view of it 
 (for it has but lately come into our hands), appears to obviate 
 all difficulties, by explaining every thing in a full and familiar 
 manner as fjjr as it goes : it is entitled " The Philosophy of 
 Arithmetic, considered as a branch of Mathematical Science, 
 and the Elements of Algebra, &c. by John Walker." This 
 volume is divided into twenty-eight chapters, of which thirteen 
 are devoted to the elucidation of the principles of common 
 arithmetic. Mr. Walker observes, that " the scientific prin- 
 ciples of common arithmetic are so coincident with those of 
 algebra, or universal arithmetic, that to persons acquainted 
 with the former, the Elements of the latter offer no serious 
 difficulty. Of the Elements of Algebra, therefore, I have 
 given such a view, as may open that wide field of science to 
 the student, and enable him, at his pleasure, to extend his 
 progress, by the aid of any of the larger works extant on the 
 subject. Having designed this work for the instruction of 
 those who come to it most uninitiated in science, I have aimed 
 at giving a clear and full explanation of the most elementary 
 principles." From the parts that we have examined, it does 
 appear that the author has succeeded in the accomplishment 
 of his object. It must, however, be observed, that Mr. 
 Bonnycastle's " Introduction" includes a number of topics 
 not touched on even by Mr. Walker. Of these, we may 
 mention the Diophantine Probtems, and the Summation of 
 Infinite Series, which b a very important part of some of the 
 practical mathematics.
 
 ALGEBRA. , 451 
 
 " Lectures on the Elements of Algebra," &c. by the Rev. 
 B. Bridge, A. M. may be safely recommended as a valuable 
 introduction to the science ; we admit the truth of the author's 
 assertion, " that the substance pf the Lectures is perfectly 
 within the comprehension of students at the age of fifteen or 
 6ixteei>." In some of these lectures, the learner's ingenuity 
 will, however, be tried ; but*the subjects are interesting, and 
 worthy the exertion he may be called on to make in the in- 
 vestigation. 
 
 In connexion with any of the above-named works, tha 
 pupil may read the first part of Maclaurin's Treatise of Al- 
 gebra, which, tliough deficient in the number of its examples, 
 is written in a remarkably clear, not to say elegant, style. It 
 proceeds only to Quadratic Equations, and the doctrine of 
 Surds. 
 
 " The Principles of Algebra," by William Frend, may be? 
 consulted with advantage, but it cannot be recommended, by 
 itself, as an introductory work to the science, because we feel 
 no objection to the usual modes of notation and expression, 
 which Mr. Frend endeavours to exchange for others, as we 
 apprehend, not at all-more intelligible. Algebra, like every 
 branch of real science, has, no doubt, its difficulties ; and the 
 youth who would make real proficiency in it, either with or 
 without the aid of a tutor, must, in the first instance, be con- 
 tent to advance slowly, feel every step of the ground on which 
 he treads, and fully comprehend every term he may meet 
 with. To such a one, we are sure there caw be no real ob- 
 stacles in the use of the algebraical terms which are found in 
 common books ; nor can he be expected to make much pro- 
 gress in the science, who is frightened with the words plus, 
 minus, sines, co-efficient, &c. We have, however, said, that 
 the learner may consult the " Principles of Algebra" with ad- 
 vantage ; and we regret that the book is become so scarce as 
 rarely to be met with. It was published in two parts. The 
 Jirst proceeds to Cardan's rule for the solution of Equations 
 
 2 G 3
 
 452 ^ MATHEMATICS. 
 
 of the third order; the second part contains tlie theory of 
 Equations established on mnlhematical demonstration. 
 
 Having gone througli the whole, or the introductory parts 
 of either of the foregoing elementary books, the student may 
 take in connexion uith his present pursuits, some parts of 
 IMr. Thomas Simpson's Algebra, which treats on topics not 
 to be found in any of the othew. Or he may advance to the 
 second part of Maclaurin's Algebra, " On the Genius and 
 Resolution of Equations of all Degrees," &c. 
 
 Much curious and valuable mathematical knowledge will 
 be found in Saunderson's ** Elements of Algebra," in two 
 volumes, 4to. should they fall in the way of the pupil. Dr. 
 Saunderson, though blind, was one of the ablest mathema- 
 ticians of the age. He lost his sight when he was only eight 
 years old ; yet so great were his talents, and so steady his ap- 
 plication to the classics and maUiematics, that he could, at an 
 early period of life, take pleasure in hearing the works of 
 Euclid, Archimedes, and Diophantus, read in their original 
 Greek. At the age of twenty-tive, he went to Cambridge, 
 and his fame soon filled the University. Newton's Principia, 
 Optics, and Universal Arithmetic, were the foundation of the 
 lectures which he delivered to the students of that seat of 
 learning, and they afforded hiih a noble field for the display 
 of his genius. Great numbers came, some, no doubt, through 
 motives of curiosity, to hear a blind man give lectures on 
 optics, discourse on the nature of light and colours, ex- 
 plain the theory of vision, the phenomenon of the rainbow, 
 and other objects of sight; but none of liis auditors went 
 away disappointed; and he always interested, as well as in- 
 structed, those who came for the purpose of gaining know- 
 ledge. He succeeded Mr. Whiston in the mathematical pro- 
 fessor's chair, and, from this time, in 1711, he gavc^ up his 
 whole time to his pupils, for whose use he had composed 
 something new and important on almost every branch of the 
 mathematics. But he discovered no intention to publish any
 
 ALGEBRA. 453 
 
 thing, till, by the persuasion of his friends, he prepared his 
 *' Elements of Algebra" for the press. 
 
 Dr. Saunderson had a peculiar meOiod of "performing 
 arithmetical calculations by nn ingenious machine and me- 
 thod, which has been denominated his " Palpable Arithmetic," 
 and which is particularly described in the first volume of the 
 work to which we are now directing the reader's attentioQ. 
 An Abridgment, or Select Parts of Dr. Saunderson's " Ele- 
 ments of Algebra," was published in an octavo volume, in the 
 year 1755, which has passed through several editions, the 
 fourth being printed in 1776. This is a judicious compen- 
 dium of the larger work, but is not better adapted to learners 
 than Bonnycastle's, Bridge's, or some other introductions to 
 the science, of more modern date. For the sake of beginners, 
 the compiler has prefixed to the Select Parts of Dr. Saunder- 
 son's Elements, an Introduction to Vulgar and Decimal Frac- 
 tions, and a collection o"f Arithmetical questions, in order that 
 the learner may try his skill in common arithmetic before he 
 enters upon the study of Algebra. 
 
 The young algebraist may consult with much advantage 
 some other books not avowedly elementary, but which con- 
 tain a large number of excellent problems, the solution of 
 M'hich will exercfee his ingenuity, and invigorate his powers. 
 Of these, the first is Dodson's Mathematical Repository, three 
 volumes, 12mo. 1748. We refer particularly to the first, 
 and part of the second volume^ the other parts will be no- 
 ticed hereafter. The early problems of this work are adapted 
 to those who are but just entering on the science; they in- 
 crease in difficulty as the pupil is supposed to become stronger 
 in the pursuit. 
 
 Another excellent work of this kind is entitled " Select 
 Exercises for Young Proficients in Mathematics, &c. by 
 Thomas Simpson, 1752." Of this volume, the first part con- 
 tains a number of algebraical problems, with their solutions, 
 designed as proper exercises for young beginners, in which
 
 454 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 the art of managing Equations, and the various methods a( 
 substitution, are taught and illustrated. 
 
 A much more modem work, but one of considerable utility 
 to the student in Algebra, is the following, " Algebraical Pro- 
 blems, producing Simple and Quadratic equations, withtheir 
 solutions, designed as an introduction to the higher branches 
 of analytics: by the Rev. M. Bland, A. M. \S\2" These 
 problems, of \\hich there are several hundreds, are designed 
 solely to point out the various methods employed by Analysts 
 in the solution of Equations. They are arranged in the usual 
 manner : the Jirst part containing simple Equations ; the se- 
 cond, pure Quadratics, and others, that may be solved without 
 completing the square ; and third/i/, adfected Quadratics. 
 The author, who has employed much industry and skill in the 
 compilation of the volume, tells his readers that he has con- 
 sulted many books, and as utility was the sole object which he 
 had in view, he has taken his examples from every source, 
 and has altered them to suit his purpose. At the head of 
 each section he has given the common rules, so that if the 
 reader is acquainted with the practice previously to Equations, 
 Mr. Bland's volume may be considered as a good introduction 
 to the science at that point. Of the Lady's Diary and Ley- 
 bourn's Mathematical Repository, we shall s]>eak in our next 
 chapter. 
 
 Mr. Bonnycastle, in 1813, published a much larger work 
 on this subject, than that which we have already noticed, it is 
 entitled " A Treatise on Algebra in Practice and Theory," iu 
 two vols. 8vo. The first volume is devoted chiefly, though in 
 an extended form, to the same subjects as he had already dis- 
 cussed in the smaller work ; the second, denominated by the au- 
 thor " the Theoretical part," will afford much exercise to the 
 talents and ingenuity of the student, who has already inade 
 considerable progress in the analytic science, aiid will probably 
 open to him a new field of speculation. To the first volume 
 19 prefixed an excellent historical introduction : in the latter
 
 ALGEBRA. 455 
 
 jmrt of the second volume is shewn the application of Algebra 
 to Geometry, and the doctrine of curves. 
 
 After, or in connexion with, this work pf Mr. Bonnjcastlc, 
 may be taken in hand the second volume of the " Elements 
 of Algebra," by Leonard Euler. This work V4;as pub- 
 lished in the German language, in 1770, and has since been 
 translated into the French and English, with notes and addi- 
 tions by the editors. Among the latter there is a very learned 
 and copious tract of tlie celebrated La Grange, oit " conti- 
 nued fractions," anfl such parts of the indeterminate analysis, 
 as had not been sufficiently treated of by the author; " the , 
 whole," says Mr. Bonnycastle, ," formii^ one of the most 
 profound treatises on this branch of the' subject that has ever 
 yet appeared." 
 
 Before the pupil has arrived at this period of his studies, he 
 will necessarily be acquainted with almost every tiling that hat 
 been written on the subject, and will of himself know where 
 to look for subjects \\hich may engage his attention. We 
 shall, therefore, only observe, that there is a valuable work in 
 Xhe Latin language, published at Dublin in 1784, entitled 
 " Analysis ^quationum, Auctore Guil. Hales. D. D." The 
 author of which says, that he has endeavoured to follow the 
 tract of Wallis, Maclaurin, Saunderson, De Moirre, Simp- 
 son, Clairaut, D'Alerabert, Euler, La Grange, Waring, 
 Bertrand, Landen, Hutton, &c. " qui aut scriptis Newtoui 
 illustrandis, aut algebrae limitibus latins proferendis feUcis- 
 ;5ime operam dederunt." 
 
 With respect to some of the authors above enumerated, we 
 may observe, in addition to what we have already noticed, that 
 M. Clairaut published his " Elemens d'Algebre," in 1746, 
 in which he made many improvements with reference to the 
 irreducible case in cubic equations. A fifth edition of this 
 work was published at Paris, with notes and large additions, 
 in 1797. M. Landen published his " Residual Analysis" in 
 1764, his " Mathematical Lucubrations" in 1765, and his 
 '^ Mathematical Memoirs " in 1 780. The Memoirs of the .
 
 456 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 Berlin and Petersburgh Academies abound with improvements 
 on series and oilier branches of analysis by Euler, La Grange, 
 and other illustrious mathematicians. Dr. Waring, late of 
 Cambridge, communicated many valuable papers to the Royal 
 Society, .who have caused them to be printed in their Trans- 
 actions, and many of his improvements are contained in his 
 separate publications, which, it must be acknowledged, are 
 too abstruse for ordinary mathematicians. These are entitled 
 ** Meditationes Algebraicae," " Proprietates Algebraicarum 
 Curvarum," and " Meditationes Analyticae." Mr. Baron 
 Maseres claims to be mentioned not only as an 'original writer 
 on the analytical branch of Science, but also on account of the 
 labour and expense which he has bestowed on the publication 
 of the " Scriptores Logarithmici," in six large vols. 4to. 
 between the year 1791 and 1807, containing many curious 
 and useful tracts, which are thus preserved from being lost, 
 and many valuable papers of his own on the binomial theo- 
 rem, series, &c. The Baron's separate publications oo 
 Algebra, are, (1). "A Dissertation on the Negativie Sign in 
 Algebra." (2). ** Principles of the Doctrine of Life Annu- 
 ities.'* (3). " Tracts on the Resolution of Affected Algebraic 
 Equations," &c
 
 CHAP. XXX. 
 
 MATHEMATICS, 
 
 Continued. 
 
 Advantages, History and Province of Geometry Principles of Geometry. 
 Elementary treatises, Simson's ".Elements" Cunn Tacquet De Chales 
 Whiston Barrow Simpson's Bonnycastle's Payne's and Cowley'^ 
 Geometry. Matton's Playfair's Leslie's Reynard's ; and Keith's. Ap- 
 plication of Algebra to Geometry. Simpson Frend Boni)ycastle-^ 
 Lady's Diary, and Leyboum's Mathematical Repository. 
 
 JN EXT to Arithmetic should follow Geometry, in a course 
 of liberal and scientific education. Geometry literally sig- 
 nifies measuring the earth, or parts thereof; and it was pro- 
 bably first invented to enable people to ascertain their owii 
 property in land, since which it has been extended and ap- 
 plied to other things and for other purposes, insomuch that 
 geometry,, with arithmetic, is now regarded as the foundation 
 of all mathematics. 
 
 ^' Geometry," says an excellent writer, " will enable a person 
 to think justly. Without it there is a certain method wanting 
 which is necessary to rectify our thoughts, to arrange our ideas, 
 and to determine our judgments aright. It is easy to perceive 
 in reading a book, even a moral one, whether the author be a 
 mathematician or not. I am seldom deceived in this obser- 
 yation. The famous French metaphysician would not have
 
 458 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 composed the Inquiry after Truth * uor the famous Leibnitz 
 his Theodice, if they had not been mathematicians. We perceive 
 in their productions that geometrical order which brings their 
 reasonings into small compass, while it gives them energy and 
 method. Order is delightful ; there is nothing in nature but 
 what is stamped with it, and without it there could be no 
 harmony. We may likewise say that the mathematics are an 
 universal science, which connects all the rest, and displays 
 them in their happiest relations. Tlie mathematician, at the 
 ^8t look, is sure to analyse and unravel a subject or propo- 
 sition with justness ; but a man who does not understand this 
 scieuce, sees only in a vague, and almost always in an im- 
 perfect manner. Apply yourself then to this great branch of 
 knowledge, so worthy of your curiosity, and so necessary to 
 the uses of life; but not in such a degree as to throw you 
 into absence ; endeavour to be always recollected, whatever 
 dire your studies. If I were young, and had leisure, I would 
 acquire a more extensive knowledge of geometry. I have 
 always cherished that scieuce M'ith a particular predilection. 
 My turn of mind made me seek with avidity every thing that 
 was methodical ; and I pay but little respect to those works 
 which are only the exercises of imagination. We have three 
 principal sciences, which I compare to the three essential 
 parts of the human composition : ^Theology, which, by its 
 spirituality, resembles our soul ; the mathematics, which, by 
 their combination and justness, express our reason ; and 
 natural philosophy, which, by its mechanical operations, 
 denotes our bodies ; aud these three sciences (which ought to 
 maintain a perfect harmony) while they keep within their 
 proper sphere, necessarily elevate us towards their Author, the 
 50urce and fulness of all light. Philosophy without geome- 
 tiy, is like medicine without chemistry. The greater number 
 of modern philosophers reason inconclusively, only because 
 they are unacquainted with geometry. They mistake sophisms 
 
 5Jakbrandu.
 
 GEOMETRY. 459 
 
 for truths ; and if they lay down just principles, they deduce 
 false conclusions from them." 
 
 Herodotus, Diodorus, and Strabo, maintain that the Egyp- 
 tians were the first inventors of geometry ; and that the annual 
 inundations of the Nile were the occasions of ii; for that 
 river, bearing away all the bounds and landmarks of meA's 
 estates, the people were obliged to distinguish their lands by 
 .the consideration of their figure and quantity, and thus formed 
 for themselves a method or art which was the origin of geometry. 
 A farther contemplation of the figures of lands laid down for this 
 purpose, might probably lead them to the discovery of some of 
 the properties of those figures ; which speculation continually 
 improving," the art also improved till it laid claim to the rank, 
 of a science. 
 
 Geometry then, may be considered as the science of exten- 
 sion, or extended things, that is, of lines, superficies and 
 solids. Notwithstanding what has been said above of the 
 Egyptians being the inventors of Geometry, the fact has been 
 disputed, and the honour given, by very respectable authors, 
 to the Hebrews. There is, however, no doubt that the inhabit 
 tants of Egypt, in their ancient monarchical state, were ac- 
 quainted with the elements of geometry, though it does not 
 appear that they had gone deeply into it, since to Pythagoras, 
 who flourished about five hundred and tvyenty years before the 
 birth of Christ, and who had spent a considerable part of his 
 life in Egypt, was attributed the invention of certain proposi- 
 tions in Euclid, particularly the 47th of the first book, which is 
 called after his name, the " Pythagorean theorem," and for the 
 discovery of which he offered a hecatomb to the gods. Hence 
 it has been inferred, that the great learning of the Egyptians 
 was not geometrical. 
 
 From Egypt, geometry, probably in its infant state, passed 
 over into Greece; forThales, the Milesian, who flourished five 
 hundred and eighty-four years before Christ, was reported to be 
 the first of the Greeks, who, coming into Egypt, transferred 
 Geometry from thence into Greece. He is said to have disco-
 
 460 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 vered several of tlie propositions of the first five books of the 
 Elements which go under the name of Euclid. After Thales, 
 came Pythagoras, already cited, who first of all abstracted geo- 
 metry from matter, and made many discoveries. Next flourished 
 Anaxagoras, Hippocrates, and many others, till we come to 
 Plato, than whom no one shed a greater lustre on the mathema- 
 tical sciences ; he made many considerable additions to geometry, 
 and upon the entrance to his academy, the inscription " Let no 
 one unacquainted with geometry enter," was written. The fifth 
 book of the Elenreuts is said to have been the production of 
 Eudoxus and to Aristeus, Isidore, and Hypsicles, we are in- 
 debted for the books of the solid geometry. After these Euclid 
 came, who collected the inventions and discoveries of others, dis- 
 posed them into order, in many respects improved tbem, and 
 left those Elements, by which, in some shape or other, the youth 
 of every succeeding generation^ from that time to this, have been 
 instructed in mathematics. Euclid died about two hundred 
 and eighty-four years before the birth of Christ. 
 
 The next to Euclid of the ancient writers, whose works are 
 extant, is Apollonius Pergeus, who flourished in the time of 
 Ptolemy Euergetes, about a century later than Euclid. The 
 third ancient Geometer, whose writings remain, is Archime- 
 des of Syracuse, who was celebrated at the same time with 
 Apollonius; to the works of this great man we shall have 
 occasion again to refer. We might mention many other names 
 of great celebrity among the Greeks, m hich have been immor- 
 talized by their skill in ancient Geometry. This people con- 
 tinued their attention to thS sciences, properly *so called, even 
 after they had been subdued by the Romans. Whereas 
 their conquerors were so little acquainted with this science, 
 even in the most flourishing time of their republic, that they 
 commonly gave the name of mathematicians to those who 
 pursued the chimeras of judicial astrology. Nor were they 
 more disposed to cultivate geometry, it will be readily ima- 
 gined, during the decline, and after the fall of the Roman 
 empire. The case was different with the Greeks, among
 
 GEOMETRY. 46 1 
 
 V'hom Nve find many excellent geometers since tlie commence- 
 ment of the Christian era, and even after the translation of 
 the Roman empire. Ptolemy lived under Marcus Aurelius ; 
 and we are in possession of the works of Pappus of Alexan- 
 dria, who flourished in the time of Theodosius ; of the Com- 
 mentary of Eutocius, the Ascalonite, who lived in the middle 
 of the sixth century, on Archimedes' mensuration of a circle ; 
 and of ft Conmientary on Euclid by Proclus, who flourished 
 still later. 
 
 The inundation of ignorance and barbarism, to which We 
 have referred in a preceding chapter, was as unfavourable to 
 geometry as to the other sciences ; and the few, who even dared 
 to apply themselves to it, were calumniated as magicians. A 
 gleam of light, however, soon appeared, and in those times of 
 European darkness, the Arabians themselves, as we have seen, 
 became distinguished as the guardians and promoters of sci- 
 ence ; and from the ninth to the fourteenth century, they pro- 
 duced many astronomers, geometers, geographers, &c.; from 
 whom the mathematical sciences were again received into 
 Spain, Italy, and the other parts of Eur(>pe, at the close of the 
 fourteenth century. After this period, many editions of Euclid, 
 and many commentaries on his Elements were published. 
 
 At the revival of letters, there were few Europeans capable 
 of translating and commenting on the works of the ancient 
 Geometers, and the science of Geometry made little progress 
 till the time of Des Cartes-, who published his Geometrjfein 
 1637 ; but from tliat period to the present, it has abounded 
 with votaries in almost all civilized nations, but in none more 
 than in Great Britain. 
 
 The province of Geometry is almost infinite: few of our 
 ideas but may be represented to the imagination by lines, by 
 means of which they become of geometrical consideration : it 
 being geometry alone that makes comparisons, and finds the 
 relations of lines. Astronomy, music, mechanics, optics, and 
 in short all the sciences which consider things susceptible of 
 more or less, may be referred to geometry j for all speculative
 
 462 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 truths, consisting only in the relations of things, may be referred 
 to lines. Consequences may be drawn from them, and these 
 consequences, again, being rendered sensible by lines, they be- 
 come permanent objects, which may be constantly exposed to 
 a rigorous attention and examination ; and thus we have op- 
 portunities both of inquiring into their certainty, and pursuing 
 them farther. 
 
 Before we proceed to speak of the elementary treatises on 
 this science, we may observe, that Geometry is founded on cer- 
 tain axioms, or self-evident truths, which none can deny, or 
 fail of understanding, and it is introduced by definitions of the 
 various objects which it contemplates, and the properties of 
 which it investigates and demonstrates ; such as points, lines, 
 angles, figures, surfaces and solids. Lines are considered as 
 straight or right, and curved ; and in their relation to one an- 
 other, either as inclined or parallel, or perpendicular to other 
 lines, or to certain given surfaces. Angles are considered either 
 as right, or acute, or obtuse ; or external, internal, vertical, &c. 
 Figures are investigated by. considering their boundaries, as 
 triangles, which in relation to their sides are equilateral, isos- 
 celes, and scalene ; and in reference to their angles, they are 
 either right-angled, obtuse-angled, and acute angled : as qua- 
 drilaterals, \\\\\c\\ comprehend the parallelogram, including 
 the rectangle and square, the rhombus and rhomboid, and the 
 trapesium ; as multilaterdl, including all other many-sided 
 figures ; as circles ; and as solids, including the prism, parallel- 
 epipedon, cube, pyramid, cylinder, cone, sphere, and the 
 frustra of the latter. 
 
 In enumerating some of the elementary treatises of Geome- 
 try, we shall observe, that to those persons who unite patient 
 attention with a true taste for the ancient method of demon- 
 stration, we may, notwithstanding what has been advanced bj 
 writers of considerable reputation, recommend as the most 
 useful and valuable work on this subject . 
 
 " The Elements of Euclid," viz. the first six books, together 
 with the eleventh and twelfth. The errors of Theon, and
 
 GEOMETRY. 463 
 
 others, afe corrected, and some of Euclid's demonstrations are 
 restored. Also the book of Euclid's data, in like manner cor- 
 rected, by Robert Simson, M. D. Emerftus professor of ma- 
 thematics in the university of Glasgow,'' 8vo. 
 
 The Elements of Euclid, or, as they are frequently termed, 
 " The Elements," are divided into three parts, which respect 
 superficies, numbers, and solids. The first four books treat of 
 planes only ; the fifth, of the proportions of magnitudes in ge- 
 neral ; the sixth, of the proportion of plane figures ; the se- 
 venth, eighth, and ninth, give us the fundamental properties of 
 numbA's ; the tenth contains the theory of commensurable 
 and incommensurable lines and spaces ; the eleventh, and 
 the following four books, treat of the doctrine of solids. Of 
 these fifteen books, the first six, and the eleventh and twelfth, 
 are not only the most important, but those which are gene- 
 rally considered as the elementary parts of science. 
 
 Dr. Simson has added to the eight books of geometry, 
 Euclid's data, which is the first in order of the books that have 
 been written by the ancient geometricians, to facilitate and 
 promote the method of resolution and analysis. Some curious 
 and valuable geometrical notes are subjoined. In the third, 
 and, we believe, all the following editions, is a short but 
 masterly treatise oa Trigonometry, entitled " Elements of 
 plane and spherical Trigonometry." Tlie edition from which 
 we write, was printed at Edinburgh, and is uncommonly accu- 
 rate. There is, besides this, a beautiful edition in quarto, but 
 without the trigonometry, printed by Foulis. 
 
 Editions of the same work, by Cunn, Tacquet, Stone, 
 Whiston, and De Clfeles,- have considerable merit. The best 
 edition of De Cliales, is that published in 1748, by Mr. 
 Samuel Ashby. 
 
 To Cunn's edition is added, a treatise on the construction 
 of logarithms. Andrew Tacquet, a learned Jesuit, has' sub- 
 joined to his edition, select theorems from the works of the 
 great Archimedes. The editions by De Chales and Whiston
 
 464 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 are chiefly valuable in having shewn the application of the Vft- 
 rious theorems in geometry to practical purposes. 
 
 EucUd's Elements', the whole fifteen books compendiously 
 demonstrated, witli Archimedes' tlieorems of the sphere and 
 cylinder, investigated by the method of indivisibles. By Isaac 
 Barrow, D. D. To which is annexed, Euclid's data, and a 
 brief treatise of the regular solids. By Thomas Haselden, 
 teacher of the mathematics, 8vo, 1 732. 
 
 Of this work the learned author shall speak for himself: 
 ** My province," says Dr. Barrow, " was not that of writing 
 the Elements of Geometry as I pleased, but of demonstrating, 
 in as few words as possibly I could, the whole works of Eu- 
 clid. As to the seventh, eighth, ninth, and tenth books, although 
 they do not so nearly appertain to the elements of plain and 
 solid geometry, as the six preceding and two subsequent books, 
 yet none of the more skilful geometricians can be so ignorant 
 as not to know that they are very useful for geometrical mat- 
 ters, not only by reason of the affinity that there is between 
 arithmetic and geometry, but also for the knowledge of both 
 commensurable and incommensurable magnitudes, so exceed- 
 ingly necessary for the doctrine of plain and solid figifres. 
 Besides, I easily persuaded myself, tliat it would not be unac- 
 ceptable to any lover of these sciences, to have in his posses- 
 sion the whole Euclidean work." 
 
 This, and some of the editions before-mentioned, are only to 
 be purchased from second-hand catalogues ; but it frequently 
 happens, that a real treasure may be thus obtained at the ex- 
 pense of half-a-crown, or less. 
 
 We shall now direct the attention of 4he reader to some of 
 the abridgmeqts of " the Elements," of which, indeed, it 
 would be difficult to enumerate the half that have been pub- 
 lished from time to time. By many mathematicians, these 
 abridgments, usually known under the title of " Elements of 
 Geometry," are treated witli great contempt, as inducing un- 
 scientific notions in the learner's mind. By others, however,
 
 GEOMETRY. 465 
 
 and those of no mean talents, it is thought high time to dis- 
 card Euclid's Elements, because they assert that science 
 cannot be exhibited in a more disgusting form than it is in 
 them. They farther contend, that " The Elements " are not, 
 by any means, necessary to lay a good foundation in mathema- 
 tics, and that few of the eminent mathematicians of Europe 
 have actually been initiated by the study of Euclid. " Non 
 nostrum inter hos tantas componere lites ;" but shall proceed 
 to mention some works of considerable and deserved repu- 
 tation : 
 
 " Elements of Geometry, with their application to the men- 
 suration of superficies and solids ; to the determination of the 
 maxima and minima of geometrical quantities ; and to the 
 construction of a great variety of geometrical problems." By 
 Thomas Simpson, F. R. S. 8vo. 
 
 The demonstrations made use of in this work are concise 
 and accurate. The treatise on the maxima and minima con- 
 sists of nineteen theorems, neatly demonstrated, and well 
 calculated to give the learner a proper taste for thisi part of 
 science. And the construction of the geometrical problems 
 is an useful application of the elementary books. The edition 
 before me, which I have read more than once, and which is 
 printed with tolerable accuracy, is the third, 1768 ; but there 
 have been several since that period. 
 
 " An Introduction to Geometry : containing the more useful 
 propositions of Euclid, and other authors. Demonstrated in 
 a clear and easy method, for the use^pf learners." By William 
 Payne. 
 
 Of this work, we can also speak with confidence, and will 
 venture to pronounce it a very plain and useful treatise : ex- 
 ceedingly well adapted to the capacity of learners, at a very 
 early age. With this introduction, we know, from repeated 
 experience, that children ten or twelve j'ears old, may, with- 
 out difficulty, become good geometricians. The first edition 
 was published in small quarto, 1767. The second is in 
 12mo, and was published in 1768. To this is added a neat 
 
 VOL. I. a H
 
 466 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 introduction to mcDSuration. The quarto generally sells for 
 about 3s. 6d. and the other for 2s. 6d. but it is becoming 
 scarce, and is rising in value. 
 
 " Elements of Geometry ; containing the principal proposi- 
 tions in the first six, and the eleventh and twelfth books of 
 Euclid; with notes critical and explanatory." By John Bonny- 
 castle, of the Royal Military Academy, Woolwich, 8vo. 
 
 The number of propositions in this very excellent work, is 
 about one-fifth less than in Dr. Simson's Elements of Euclid. 
 Tlie enumerations and demonstrations are expressed in a more 
 concise and elegant manner, which, by persons not particularly 
 attached to the ancient mode of geometry, will be thought an 
 advantiige to learners five editions of it have been published. 
 
 " Geometry made Easy ; or a new and methodical expla- 
 nation of the Elements of Geometry. Containing a very easy 
 commentary on the first six, and the last five books of Euclid, 
 &c. &,c. &c. To which is added, an entire new, curious, and 
 exact method of exhibiting, in miniature, the various kinds 
 of solids, and their sections, by schemes cut out of paste- 
 boards," &c. By John Lodge Cowley. 8vo. 
 
 Mr.. Cowley makes use of the algebraic mode of reason- 
 ing : his propositions are neatly demonstrated, and the method 
 he has introduced of conveying an idea of the nature of the seve- 
 ral solids and sections of bodies, by pasteboard, folded up in the 
 forms of those solids, has, by persons of eminence, been thought 
 of considerable use in assisting the ideas of leaniers. Another 
 edition of this work, wi|b improvements, has been published 
 by Mr. Jones, Holborn. 
 
 An Appendix to the last mentioned work, 4to., besides tliat 
 of facilitating the study of Euclid's Elements, has this advan- 
 tage, that it is capable of shewing workmen how these 
 solids are to be made ; and in what manner they may be 
 divided, for the purpose of making models of them, by lines 
 drawn on paper. 
 
 " The Royal road to Geometry ; and familiar introduction 
 to the mathematics." By Thomas Malton. 8vo.
 
 GEOMETRY*/' 467 
 
 This work comprehends every thing that is necessary for 
 the instruction of the learner in the theory and practice of 
 geometry. The first part contains the elements of geometry ; 
 the theory of mensuration ; and a demonstration of some 
 properties of ellipses. In the second, the author has inser- 
 ted the problems of Euclid's Elements, with others selec- 
 ted from various writers ; and an appendix on the construction 
 of ellipses ; proportional scales, and line of chords with prob- 
 lems illustrating their use. 
 
 ** Elements of Geometry ; containing the first six books of 
 Euclid, with two books on the Geometry of Solids. To 
 which are added. Elements of plane and spherical Trigono- 
 metry." By John Play fair, F. R. S. Professor of Mathema- 
 matics in the university of Edinburgh. 8vo. 
 
 The four first books and the sixth are, with very few ex- 
 ceptions, the same as in the edition of Euclid, by Dr. Robert 
 Simson before-mentioned. In the fifth the author makes use of 
 an algebraic notation. The seventh book contains solid geome- 
 try, but not Euclid's. The rectification and quadrature of the 
 circle are discussed in the eighth book. Mr. Playfair has by 
 this work shewn himself an accurate writer and. an excellent 
 reasoner. 
 
 ** Elements of Geometry, Geometrical Analysis, and Plane 
 Trigonometry," by John Leslie, F. R. S. E. This work, the 
 author informs us, is only part of a plan which he has in con- 
 templation, and which may be comprized in five volumes. Of 
 these, the second is intended to treat of the Geometry of 
 curve lines, the intersection of planes, and the properties of 
 solids, including the doctrine of the sphere, and the calcula- 
 tion of spherical triangles, with the elements of perspective 
 and projection. The third volume will be devoted to 
 Algebra, which is to be preceded by a short tract on the 
 principles of Arithmetic. The fourth and fifth volumes will 
 embrace the differential and integral calculus, with their prin- 
 cipal applications. 
 
 Mr. Leslie, in speaking of his reasons for introducing to 
 2 H 2
 
 468 MArTlIEMATieS. 
 
 public notice, a new treatise of Geometry, says, " We shonlcf 
 form a wrong estimate, did we consider the Elements of 
 Euclid, with ail its merits, a finished production. That admi- 
 rable work was composed when geometry was making its 
 most rapid advances, and new prospects were opening on 
 every side. No wonder that its structure should appear loose 
 and defective. In adapting it to the actual state of the science, 
 I have, therefore, endeavoured carefully to retain the spirit of 
 the original, but have sought to enlarge the basis, and to dis- 
 pose the accumulated materials into a regular and compact 
 system. By simplifying the order of arrangement, I presume 
 that I have materially abridged the labour of the student. The 
 numerous additions which are incorporated in the text, so far 
 from retarding, will rather facilitate his progress, by render- 
 ing more continuous the chain of demonstration." 
 
 Mr. Leslie farther adds, that the view w hich he has given of 
 the nature of Proportion in the fifth book, w ill, he expects, 
 contribute to remove the chief difficulties attending that im- 
 portant subject. The sixth book, which exhibits the applica- 
 tion of the doctrine of ratios, contains a copious selection of 
 propositions, not only beautiful in them'selves, but which pave 
 the way to the higher branches of Geometry, or lead im- 
 mediately to valuable practical results. 
 
 In the part devoted to Geometrical Analysis, the first book 
 consists of a series of the choicest problems, rising above 
 each other in gradual succession. The second and third books 
 are almost wholly occupied with the researches of the ancient 
 Analysis. Of Mr. Leslie's Trigonometry, we shall speak 
 farther on. We have been thus particular in describing the 
 contents of Mr. Leslie's work, but after all, it does not 
 appear so well adapted to beginners as many of the others 
 which have been mentioned before ; and should, perhaps, be 
 considered rather as a second, than a first book for those who 
 are studying the science without the aid of an instructor. 
 
 One of the latest works of Geometry that have come with- 
 in our notice, is entitled " Geometria Legilinia, or an Elemen-
 
 GEOMETRY. 466 
 
 tary system of Theoretical Geometry, adapted for the 
 general use of beginners in the mathematicqil Sciences," &c. 
 By Francis Reynard. 
 
 The author of this work assumes, that the Elements of 
 Euclid is a book not calculated for schools, and particulariy 
 unfit to be put into the hands of boys, who might well begin 
 a course of geometry, such as is here presented to them, at 
 the age of twelve. We so far agree with Mr. Reynard, that 
 we would not, in general, put Euclid into the hands of very 
 young persons, yet we must observe, tliat we have known it 
 taught with success in schools, and we have witnessed lads of 
 twelve or thirteen years of age, who have been instructed in 
 the " Elements" only, able to give a satisfactory account of 
 every step in the demonstrations which they have been calle'd 
 on to perform. Tliis we think it right to state, that unwarrant- 
 able prejudices may not be excited against a book that has 
 been in deservedly high reputation so many centuries. 
 
 Mr. Reynard, in describing his labours, says, that in order to 
 throw some light on the contents, and to give the student an 
 idea of what he is going to do, and what advantages he will 
 derive, an introduction immediately precedes each book, and 
 by way of exercise, and to try the test of the student's know- 
 ledge, after he has read through each book (of which there 
 are^^ght), thei^ is a suitable collection of questions, which 
 will give the mind ample scope for its exercise, and will af- 
 ford the best criterion of his industry and attention. Mr. R. 
 states likewise, that he has introduced, in the progress of his 
 work, some new theorems, and that all the theorems through 
 the work are demonstrated by the direct method, u-hich he 
 imagines is the safest way of proceeding. If it be the safest 
 method, we cannot help observing, that the reductio ad ab- 
 surdum very frequently carries with it a conviction equally 
 satisfactory to the mind with the direct method of proof. 
 Our author has added at the end, a selection of miscellaneous 
 questions, chiefly taken from different authors, some of 
 which will demand the ingenuity and knowledge of the skilfiil
 
 470 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 geometrician ; many are likewise given, with an intention 
 that he may, at the same time, be exercised in solving them 
 analytically. These supplementary questions, and the Ques- 
 tioues Solvendae at the end of each book, are applicable to 
 almost any other work of Geometry, and may be found useful 
 to those who study this branch of science by means of Sim- 
 son's, or any other Euclid, or by Simpson's, Bonnycastle's, 
 or the other introductions to Geometry. 
 
 " The Elements of Plane Geometry ; containing the first 
 six books of Euclid, from the text of Dr. Simson, with notes 
 critical and explanatory ; to which are added, book vii. in- 
 cluding several important propositions which are not in Eu- 
 clid ; book viii. consisting of Practical Geometry ; also book 
 ix*. of Planes and their intersections ; and book x. of the 
 Geometry of Solids." By Thomas Keith. 1814. 
 
 This work, which has not been long before the public, ap- 
 pears to be a very excellent introduction to mathematical 
 knowledge. The notes to the first six books are brief, but 
 much to the purpose, and such as will assist the student in 
 surmounting the little difficulties that may present themselves 
 to him. They are intended to elucidate, improve, or extend 
 the text. The seventh, ihe author tells us, is an expanded 
 epitome of the theorems in the first six books of Euclid, ar- 
 ranged in the order which the nature of the subject appeal^ to 
 require : it contains some propositions from the tenih, twelfth, 
 and thirteenth books of Euclid, besides a number that are 
 not in his work, some of which are from Pappus, of Alexan- 
 dria. To these are added, a few propositions relative to the 
 rectification and quadrature of the circle. " Throughout the 
 whole perfonnance," says Mr. Keith, " the utmost care has 
 been taken to render the several subjects accurate, plain,' and 
 intelligible to young students. If the author has succeeded 
 in these particulars, his purpose will be answered : and tliere- 
 fore he submits, without apprehension, to scientifical men, 
 the result of his endeavours to elucidate the doctrine and 
 extend the iisefubess of Euclid's Elements." We give him
 
 GEOMETRY. 471 
 
 full credit for his intentions, and thinL it will be admitted that 
 he has succeeded. 
 
 Thus have we taken a review of a great variety of elemen- 
 tary works on the science of geometry, of which any one will 
 be sufficient as an introduction to that highly important branch 
 of knowledge. As, however, we mtend our work for real 
 practical use, we shall offer a few directions respecting the 
 best method of studying geometry. These directions will 
 apply to any of the works which have been mentioned. 
 
 In the study of history, and indeed of almost every branch 
 of the belles lettres, the student derives considerable pleasure 
 from the pursuit, even in its first stages. The knowledge of 
 new facts, the conterrtplation of the diversified customs and 
 manners of different people, or of the same people in the va- 
 rious stages of civilization, afford at once, adiusement com- 
 bined with uistruction. 
 
 The case is different in mathematics : many a youth has 
 taken Euclid into his hands, or perhaps some easier treatise 
 on the Elements of Geometry ; and has read a book or two, 
 without perceiving even tlie drift of his author. That such 
 should throw away their books in disgust can be no matter of 
 surprize ; though it is probable that with proper directions 
 ' they might have become good geometricians. To persons of 
 this description, who can derive no benefit from instructors, and 
 who have no scientific friend at hand whom they can consult, 
 our work may stand in the stead of a living monitor. 
 
 In the study of geometry, care must first be taken to com- 
 mit perfectly to memory, the definitions, axioms, and postu- 
 lates, because to these, reference is perpetually made. 
 
 The propositions are to be carefully read and thoroughly 
 understood. The learner must not advance to the second till 
 he is sure that he is master of the first, and so of the rest 
 After he has thus gone through the first book, it will be an 
 useful and highly advantageous exercise, if he return and com- 
 mit the enunciation of each proposition to his memory, and 
 then, either having the figure before him, or drawing it out
 
 478 MATHEMATICS. * 
 
 for himself, write out a demonstration in his own word*. 
 This he cannot do without being sure that he understands 
 what he is about ; and till he can do this, he ought not to 
 leave a single proposition. This method, we will venture to 
 affirm, is, to persons of common capacities, the best and 
 surest to attain a well-grounded knowledge in geometry. It . 
 is that mode recommended by the Latins, " Festina lente." 
 Slow at first, but sure. And after 'the two first books are 
 thus gone through, the remainder will present to the youth 
 great pleasure, and but fev/ difficulties. 
 
 The doctrine of ratios in the fifth book, may perhaps 
 retard the learner awhile : it is treated of in Simson's Euclid, 
 in a method less easy than in the several treatises of the 
 Elements of Geometry which we have enumerated, to any 
 one of which the reader of Euclid may be referred for assist- 
 ance. In the solid geometry, if he would call in the aid of 
 the senses, which is not absolutely jiecessary, he wjll do well , 
 to have Cowley's figures before him. 
 
 The learner will scarcely enter into the spirit of the geo- 
 metrical notes till he is master of the elements. Euchd's 
 data in the edition of Dr. Simson, Barrow, &c., the maxima 
 and minima, in that of Mr. Thomas Simpson, and the other 
 appendages to the different treatises in this science, will afford 
 the young geometrician much intellectual pleasure, with the 
 expense of little labour, if he has laid a solid foundation in 
 the way recommended. 
 
 The pupil having made himself master of the Elementary 
 parts of Algebra and Geometry, will be fully prepared to 
 apply his knowledge in one branch of science to the solution 
 of problems in the other. The application of algebra to geo- 
 metry is of two kinds : that which regards the plane or com- 
 mon geometry, and that which respects what is usually deno- 
 minated the higher geometry, or the nature of curve lines. 
 The first of these is concerned in the algebraical solutions of 
 geometrical problems, and in the investigation of theorems in 
 gcomctripal figures, by means of algebraical investigations qv
 
 GEOMETRY. 473 
 
 demonstrations. This method of resolving geometrical pro- 
 blems is, in many cases, more direct and easy, than that of 
 geometrical analysis ; but of course the solution in this way, 
 depends upon a previous acquaintance with the method of 
 expressing geometrical magnitudes, as well as their mutual 
 positions and relations, by algebraical notation, that is^ a \\pe 
 is represented by a single letter, a rectangle by the product of 
 two letters, expressing its sides, a rectangular parallepipedon by 
 the product of three letters; two of which will represent the su- 
 perficies of the base, and the other its perpendicular altitude : 
 thus, if a and b represent the sides of a rectangle, then ax b 
 or a b will represent the superficies ; and if a prison be erected 
 on that superficies, whose altitude is denoted by c, then the 
 solid contents will be expressed hy axbxc or a be. The 
 opposite position of straight lines may be expressed by the 
 signs + and , and segments of lines may be denoted by 
 letters with these signs prefixed, as circumstances require. 
 
 In the solution of problems, the following general observa- 
 tions should be attended to. When any geometrical problem is 
 proposed for algebraical resolution, we must in the first place, 
 describe a figure that shall represent the parts or conditions 
 of the problem ; then, having considered the nature of the 
 problem, the figure must be prepared for solution, if neces- 
 sary, by producing and drawing such lines as appear most 
 conducive to that purpose. Then the lines known and un- 
 known are to be represented by proper symbols, and the 
 operation to be proceeded on, by. observing the relation which 
 4he several parts have to each other. No general rules can 
 be laid down for drawing the lines, and selecting the most 
 proper quantities to substitute for them, so as always to bring 
 out the most simple and direct conclusions. The following 
 general directions, taken chiefly from the Algebra and Select 
 Exercises of Mr. Thomas Simpson, are given and referred to 
 by almost all English writers on this subject. 
 
 1. In preparing the figure, by drawing lines, let thena be 
 either parallel or perpendicular to other lines in the figure, or
 
 474 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 so as to form similar triangles ; and if an angle be given, let 
 the perpendicular be opposite to that angle, and fall from the 
 end of the given line, if possible. 
 
 2. In selecting proper quantities for substitution, let those 
 be chosen, whether required or not, which lie nearest the 
 kno%Mi or given parts of the figure/ and by means of which 
 the next adjacent parts may be expressed, without the inter- 
 vention of surds, by addition and subtraction only. Thus, if 
 the problem were to find the perpendicular of a plane triangle, 
 from the three sides given, it will be much better to substitute 
 for one of the segments of the base, than for the perpendicu- 
 lar, though that be the quantity required ; because the whole 
 base being given, the other segment will be given, or ex- 
 pressed, by subtraction only, and so the final equation will 
 come out a simple one ; from whence the segments being 
 known, the perpendicular is easily found by common arithme- 
 tic ; whereas, if that perpendicular were first sought, both the 
 segments would be surd quantities, and the final equation a 
 quadratic one. 
 
 3. Where, in any problem, there are two lines or quantities 
 alike related to other parts of the figure or problem, the best 
 way is to make use of neither of them, but to substitute for 
 their sum, their rectangle, or th(5 sum of their alternate quo- 
 tients, or for some line or lioetf in the figure, to which they 
 both have the same relation. J 
 
 4. If the area, or the perimeter of a figure, be given, or 
 such parts of it as have but a remote relation to the parts re- 
 quired, it will be sometimes of use to assume another figure 
 similar to the proposed one, of which one side is unity, or 
 some other known quantity, whence the other parts of the 
 figure may be found, and an equation obtained. 
 
 The writers on this branch of science are numerous, to 
 several of which we have already referred. In Simpson's 
 Algebra, and the second part of his Select Exercises, there 
 are a good number of Problems. A few pages of Mr. 
 Frend's Algebra are devoted to it, but these are scarcely
 
 GEOMETRY. 475 
 
 sufficient to give the pupil an insight into the subject. In 
 the second volume of Mr. Bonnycastle's larger v^'ork on 
 Algebra, will be found a variety of problems relating to 
 plane geometry, and also to tlie doctrine of curves. Al- 
 most all the volumes of the " Ladies' Diary," and the " Ma- 
 thematical Repository," by Mr. Leybourn, will furnish the 
 Mathematical student with abundance of work, from the 
 easiest to the abstrusest problems. The most interesting 
 parts of the " Ladies* Diary," from 1704 to 1773, were select- 
 ed and published in five volumes, by Dr. Huttou, in 1775. 
 To which the learned editor added a sixth volume, entitled 
 " Miscellanea Mathematica," consisting of a large collection 
 of curious mathematical problems, and their solutions, &c. 
 Mr. Leybourn 's Mathematical Repository consists of three 
 volumes, 12mo. 
 
 The mathematical student will find an advantage in possess- 
 ing Hutton's, or Barlow's Dictionary, or Nicholson's " Brit- 
 ish Encyclopedia ;" or, above all, the great national work of 
 the Rev. Dr. Rees, entitled, *' The New Cyclopedia," of 
 which nearly sixty parts are before the public.
 
 CHAP. XXXI. 
 
 MATHEMATICS, 
 
 Continued, 
 
 Trigonometry History of this branch of Science Ancient writers on 
 Trigonometrj' : Theodosius Menelaus Ptolemy Purback Regio- 
 moutanos Copernicus MaaroHcus Rheticus O tho Pitiscus Clu- 
 vius Ceulen Napier Briggs Guntcr Trigonometry, on whatfound- 
 cd Methods of investigating its principles Practical rulps. Modern 
 authors: Martin Ashworth Sim&on Simpson Vince Leslie Wood-. 
 house Bonnycastle Keith Kelly ; and Walker. 
 
 1 HE art of measuring tlie sides and angles of a triangle, 
 whether plane or spherical, is called plane or spherical Trigo- 
 nometry, This is an art of the greatest use in the mathema- 
 tical sciences, especially in navigation, surveying, levelling, 
 diahng, and geography. By means of trigonometry, we come 
 to know the magnitude of the earth, the moon, the planets, and 
 even the sun : their distances from us, and from one another ; 
 their motions and several occultations and eclipses. Hence it 
 is probable, that this art was cultivated from the earliest ages 
 of mathematical knowledge, though no records have been left 
 us, by which we can trace it to a higher age than that of 
 Hippardms, who flourished about a century and a half before 
 the commencement of the Christian aera ; and who is reported
 
 TRIGONOMETRY. 477 
 
 by Theon, in his Commentary on Ptolemy's Almagest, to 
 have written a work, in twelve books, on the chords of circu- 
 lar arcs, which was no doubt a treatise on Trigonometry. 
 The earliest existing work on the subject, is the spherics of 
 Theodosius, a native of Tripoli, in Bithynia, who, in the 
 times of Cicero and Pompey, collected the scattered principles 
 of science, which had been discovered by his predecessors, 
 and formed them into a regular treatise, in three books, con- 
 taining a variety of the most necessary and useful propositions 
 relating to the sphere, arranged and demonstrated with great 
 perspicuity and elegance, after the manner of Euclid's Ele- 
 ments. The first of these books contained twenty-two propo- 
 sitions ; the second, twentyrthree ; and the third, fourteen. 
 They were translated by the Arabians out of the original 
 Greek, into their own language : from which, the work was 
 translated into Latin, and printed at Venice. The Arabic 
 version was found afterwards to be very defective, and a more 
 complete edition >fas published in Greek and Latin at Paris, 
 in 1558. De Chales printed it in his Cursus Mathematicus. 
 The edition most generally referred to at this time, is that 
 by Dr. Barrow, published in 1675, illustrated and demon- 
 strated in a new and corfcise method. There is a good Oxford 
 edition, in 8vo, 1709. 
 
 The next of the Greek writers, after Theodosius, who has 
 professedly treated on this subject, is Menelaus, an astrono- 
 mer and mathematician of considerable eminence, who flou- 
 rished during the first century of the Christian aera. He was 
 author of three books " On Spherics," which have come 
 down to us through the medium of the Arabic language. A 
 Latin version of this work was published at Paris, by Father 
 Mersenne, in 1664, with corrections, restorations, and addi- 
 tional propositions. The Spherics of Menelaus contain besides 
 the first principles of the science, a number of propositions of 
 a more difficult kind. Dr. Halley prepared a new' edition of 
 this work, which was published in Svo, J 758, by Costard, 
 the author of the " History of Astronomy." Menelaus is
 
 478 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 said to have been the author of another work on the subtenses, 
 or chords, of circular arcs, being, probably, a treatise on the 
 ancient method of constructing trigonometrical tables, which 
 has not come do\vn to the modems. This loss has been re- 
 paired in a good measure by Ptolemy, who, in the first book 
 of his Almagest, published early in the second century after 
 Christ, has given a table of arcs and their chords, to every 
 half degree of the semicircle, in the formation of which he 
 divides the radius and the arc whose chord is equal to radius, 
 each into sixty equal parts; and then estimates all other arcs 
 by sixtieths of that arc, and the chords by sixtieths of that 
 chord, or of tlie radius. Ptolemy is said to have been the 
 autlior of the proposition " that the rectangle of the two 
 diagonals of any quadrilateral inscribed in a circle, is equal to 
 the sum of the rectangles of its opposite sides." 
 
 After Ptolemy, and his commentator Theon, Jittle more is 
 known on this subject, till about the close of the eighth cen- 
 tury after Christ, when the ancient method of computing by 
 the chords was changed for that of sines, which was first in- 
 troduced into the science by the Arabians, who furnished the 
 several axioms and theorems, which are at present considered 
 as the foundation of trigonometry, as it is now taught. The 
 Arabians, though acquainted with the decimal scale of arith- 
 metic, did not in their trigonometry deviate from the Greeks 
 in the sexagesimal division of tlie radius, which continued in 
 use till the middle of the fifteenth century, when Purback, a 
 German, constructed a table of sines to a division of the 
 radius, into 600,000 equal parts, and computed them for 
 every ten minutes, in parts of this radius, by decimal notation. 
 The project was carried on by Regiomontanus, his pupil 
 and friend, who computed a table of sines, for every minute 
 of the quadrant to the radius, supposed to be divided into 
 100,000 parts. 
 
 Shortly after this, several other mathematicians contributed 
 to the advancement of this science, among whom was Wer- 
 ner, of Nuremburg, and Copernicus, the illustrious restorer
 
 TRIGONOMETRY. 479 
 
 of the true system of the world, who wrote a brief treatise on 
 plane and spherical trigonometry, with a description and con* 
 struction of the canon of chords, which tract, together with a 
 table of sines, and their differences, for every ten minutes of 
 the quadrant, is inserted in his Revolutiones orbium ccclestium 
 published in 1543. Ten years after this, Erasmus Rheinold 
 published his Table of Tangents, and about the same time, 
 Maurolicus published a Table of Secants. The last named 
 author was one of the most considerable mathematicians of 
 his time. He was regarded by his learned contemporaries as 
 a second Archimedes, and was author of many very admirable 
 works. 
 
 The most complete work on the subject which had then 
 appeared, was a treatise, in two parts, by Vieta, printed at 
 Paris, in 1579 ; i" the first part of which he has given a table 
 of sines, tangents, and secants, for every minute of the quad- 
 rant, to radius of 100,000 with their differences ; and towards 
 the end of the quadrant, the tangents and secants are extended 
 to eight or nine places of figures. They are arranged like the 
 present tables. The second part of the volume, contains, 
 besides a regular account of the construction of the tables, a 
 compendious treatise on plane and spherical trigonometry, 
 with their application to a variety of curious subjects in geo- 
 metry, mensuration, &c., as likewise a number of particulars 
 relating to the quadrature of the circle, the duplication of the 
 cube and such like problems. This work of Vieta is said to 
 be extremely rare. It may be observed, though not strictly 
 connected with trigonometry, that Vieta gave in this work 
 computations of the ratio of the diameter of 'a circle to the 
 circumference, and of the length of the sine of one minute, to 
 several places of figures, by which he found that the sine of 
 one minute, is somewhere 
 
 Between 2908881959 
 And 2908882056; 
 
 and that the diameter of a circle being 1000, &c., the peri-
 
 480 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 meter of the inscribed and circumscribed polygon of SQSjSlO 
 sides will be as follows : the 
 
 Perimeter of the inscribed polygon 31415926535 
 circumscribed 3 14 1 592fj537, 
 
 and of course that the circumference of the circle lies between 
 those two numbers. See Mensuration. 
 
 George Joachim Rheticus, a pupil of Copernicus, is the next 
 writer to be noticed on this subject. He formed the design of 
 computing the trigonometrical canon for every ten seconds of 
 the quadrant, to fifteeH places of decimals : he was able, how- 
 ever, to accomplish only that part of it relating to the sines 
 and co-sines. The work was finished by Valentine Otho, his 
 disciple, and published under the title of " Opus Palatinum 
 de Triangulis, in 1596." In this work, we have for the first 
 time, an entire table of sines, tangents, and secants, for every 
 ten seconds of the quadrant, to ten places of decimals, with their 
 differences. These tables were afterwards corrected by Bar- 
 tholomew Pitiscus, and he published his edition under the 
 title, of " Thesaurus Mathematicus," in l6l3. Previously to 
 this, Philip Lansberg published his " Geometria Triangu- 
 lorum," in four books, with the usual tables, and Pitiscus had 
 likewise given to the world, in 1599, his own work on Trigo- 
 nometry, which was reckoned a very complete work, both 
 with respect to the correctness of the tables, and its numerous 
 practical applications. 
 
 ^'Christopher Cluvius, in the first volume of his works printed 
 at Mentz, 16 12, in five volumes folio, has given an ample 
 treatise on Tiigonometry, with tables of sines, tangents, and 
 secants, for every minute of the quadrant, to seven places of 
 decimals. 
 
 Ludolph van Ceulen, a Dutch mathematician, published, 
 about the year 1600, his well known treatise " De circulo etad- 
 scriptis," &,c. in which he treats of the properties of lines drawn 
 m and about a circle, and especially of chords, with the con-
 
 TRIGONOMETRY. 48 1 
 
 struction of the canon of sines. Francis van Scliooten, in 1627 
 published at Amsterdam, a table of sines, tangents, and secants, 
 for every minute of the quadrant to seven places, which has 
 been esteemed a very accurate work. 
 
 These are the principal writers on Trigonometry, and the 
 tables of sines, tangents, and secants, before the change that 
 was made in the subject by die introduction of the logarithmic 
 calculus, which was first employed in this science about the 
 commencement of the seventeenth century, by the inventor, 
 the celebrated Baron Napier, of Merchiston, in Scotland, who, 
 in 1614, published his work entitled " Mirifici Logarithmorum 
 Canonis Descriptio," which contains the logarithms of numbers, 
 and the logarithmic sines, tangents, and secants, for every mi- 
 nute of the quadrant, together with the description and use of 
 the tables. But the person to whom we are chiefly indebted, 
 for the new and more advantageous form which the mode of 
 computation has since assumed, is Mr. Henry Briggs, at that 
 time professor of geometry in Gresham college, who has the 
 merit of having first proposed, both to the public in his lec- 
 tures, and to the illustrious inventor of the doctrine himself, 
 the improvement in the system of these numbers, which con- 
 sists in making the radix of the system 10, instead of 2.71828, 
 &c. as was done by Napier ; or which is the same thing, by 
 changing them from the hyperbolic to the present common, 
 or tabular logarithms. In 1624, Mr. Briggs published his 
 ** Arithmetica Logarithmica," which contains the logarithms 
 of all the numbers from 1 to 20,000 and from 90,000 to 
 1 00,000 to fifteen places of figures. This table was completed 
 by Adrian Valcq, of Gouda, in Holland, who calculated the 
 seventy intermediate chiliads, and republished the " Arithme- 
 tica Logarithmetica," at that place, with these additional num- 
 bers, in which state it contained the logarithms of all numbers 
 from 1 to 100,000 to ten places of decimals, together with a 
 table of logarithmic sines, tangents and secants, to the same ex* 
 tent, for every minute of the quadrant. 
 
 Mr. Briggs completed a table of logarithmic sines and tan- 
 
 VOL. I. 2 I
 
 482 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 gents for the luindredth part of every degree, to fourteen 
 places of decitnuls, together with a table of natural sines for 
 the same parts to fifteen places, and the tangents and secants 
 of the same to ten places, with an account of the construction 
 of the whole; which work was likewise printed at Gonda by 
 Valcq, in 16S3, and upon his death a preface to it was sup- 
 plied by Mr. Henry Gellibraud, who added to it the applica- 
 tion of logarithms to plane and spherical trigonometry, which 
 he published in the same year under the title of " Trigono- 
 metry Britannica." Valcq at the same time published his own 
 great work, entitled " Trigonometria Artiticialis," which con- 
 tains the logarithmic sines and tangents of every ten seconds of 
 the quadrant, to ten places of figures, besides the index, and 
 the logarithms of the first twenty thousand numbers, to the 
 same number of places, with the differences of each ; the 
 whole being preceded by a full description of the tables, and 
 the application of them to some of the principal problems in 
 plane and spherical Trigonometry. Several smaller tables of 
 these logarithms were also published about this time by Gunter, 
 Wingate, and others. Gunter, it should be noticed, first ap- 
 plied the logarithms of numbers, together with those of the 
 sujes and tangents, to a ruler, in the form of a two foot scale, 
 which is still known by his name ; by which proportions in tri- 
 gonometry, navigation, and other subjects, may be performed, 
 to a degree of accuracy sufficient for many practical purposes, 
 by the mere application of a pair of compasses. 
 
 The common logarithmic (^non was first reduced to its 
 most convenient form by Mr. John Newton, in hb ** Trigo- 
 nometria Britannica," printed in 1658, which contains the 
 logarithms of the first 100,000 numbers to 8 places of deci- 
 mals, arranged in the same manner as they are in our table* 
 at present, as also the logarithmic sines and tangents to the 
 same exteut. The greater part of these tables are superse- 
 ded by those of a later date, some of which we shall have 
 occasion to notice in the sequel. 
 
 Trigonometry, or the resohition of triangles, is founded
 
 TRIGONOMETRY. 4^ 
 
 tipon the mutual proportions which subsist between the sides 
 and angles of triangles, which proportions are kuDwn by 
 tinding the relations between the radius of a circle, and certain 
 other lines drawn in and about the circle, denominated chords, 
 sines, tangents, secants, 8cc. We have seen that the ancients 
 performed their trigonometry by means of chords, which have 
 been long since abandoned for the use of sines, tangents, and 
 secants. 
 
 The proportion of the sines, tangents, &c to their radius, is 
 sometimes expressed in common or natural numbers, which 
 constitute what are called the tables of natural sines, tan* 
 gents and secants. Sometimes it is expressed in logarithms, 
 being the logarithms of the natural sines, tangents, 8cc. These 
 last constitute the table of artificial sines, tangents, secants, 
 &c. : and sometimes the proportion is not expressed in numbers : 
 but the several sines, tangents, &c. are actually laid down upon 
 certain scales. In trigonometry, as the angles are measured 
 by arcs of a circle described about the angular point, so the 
 whole circumference of the circle is supposed to be divided 
 into 360 parts, called degrees, and each degree is divide dinto 
 60 parts, called minutes, and each minute, into 60 seconds ; 
 sometimes by a similar division, the seconds are divided into 
 thirds^ and so on. An angle therefore is said to consist of so 
 many degrees, minutes and seconds, as are contained in the 
 arc that measures the angle, or that is intercepted between the 
 sides or legs of the angle. 
 
 The sines, tangents, secants, co-sines, 8cc. of every degree, 
 minute, second, &c. of a quadrant, are calculated to the radius of 
 1, and ranged in tables for use, as also the logarithms of the 
 same ; forming the triangular canon. 
 
 There are two methods used in investigating the principles 
 of trigonometry : viz. by geometry and algebra. By the 
 former, the various relations of the sines, co-sines, tangents 
 of arcs or angles, and those of the sides and angles of 
 triangles, are deduced immediately from the figuix-s to which 
 the several inquiries are referred, each particular case re- 
 
 2 I 2
 
 484 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 quiring its own method, and resting on evidence peculiar io 
 itself. By tlie algebraical method, the nature and properties 
 of the linear-angular quantities being first defined, some 
 general relation of these quantities, or of them in connexion 
 with a triangle, is expressed by one or more equations, and 
 then other theorems of use iu this branch of science, are 
 developed by the simple reduction of the first equation. Thus 
 it is observed, " the rules for the three fundamental cases in 
 plane trigonometr}', which may be deduced by three indepen- 
 dent geometrical investigations, are obtained algebraically, by 
 forming between the three data, and the three unknown quan- 
 tities, three equations, and obtaining, in expressions of known 
 terras, the value of each of the unknown quantities, the others 
 being exterminated by the usual processes. Each of these 
 methods has its peculiar advantages. The geometrical method, 
 in this, as in all other cases, carries conviction at every step ; 
 and, by keeping the objects of inquiry constantly before the 
 eye, serves to guard against the admission of error. The 
 algebraical method, on the contrary, requiring little aid 
 from first principles, excepting at the conmieucement of the 
 process, is rather mechanical than mental, and requires fre- 
 quent checks to prevent any deviation from the truth. The 
 geometrical method is direct and rapid, in producing the con- 
 clusions at the outset of trigonometrical science j but slow 
 and circuitous in arriving at those results which the modem 
 state of science requires : while the algebraical method, 
 though sometimes circuitous iu the developement of the 
 mere elementary theorems, is very rapid and fertile in pro- 
 ducing those curious and interesting formulse, which are 
 wanted in the higher branches of pure analysis, in mixed 
 mathematics, and more particularly in physical astronomy." 
 
 in practice, three things, in every plane triangle, must be 
 given to find the rest : and of these three, one, at least, must 
 be a iride. There are three cases which include all the varieties 
 tliat can happen: (1) When two of the three given things 
 are a side, and its opposite angle. (2) When two sides and
 
 TRIGONOMETRY. 48^ 
 
 their included angle are given. (3) When the three sides are 
 given. Each of these cases may be resolved in three differetit 
 ways, viz. by geometrical construction by arithmetical com- 
 putation or instrumentally. In resorting to the first of these 
 methods, the student will find himself well prepared for the 
 pursuit, if he has before attended to the Geometrical construc- 
 tion of Problems, of which there are many excellent exam- 
 ples in the latter part of Mr. Thomas Simpson's Geometry. 
 In this method, the triangle is constructed by laying down the 
 sides from a scale of equal parts, and the angles from a scale 
 of chords, or a protractor, and then measuring the unknown 
 parts by the same scale or instrument from which the others 
 were taken. 
 
 In the mode by arithmetical computation ; having stated 
 the proportion according to the proper rule, multiply the se- 
 cond and third terms together, and divide the product by the 
 first, and the quotient will be the fourth term required ; that 
 is, when the natural numbers are used. In working by loga- 
 rithms, the logarithms of the second and third terms are to be 
 added together, and from the sum, the logarithm of the first 
 term is to be taken, and the number answering to the re- 
 mainder, will be the fourth term sought. 
 
 In the third method, or instrumentally, as by logarithmic 
 lines, on one side of a common two-foot scale, the legs of the 
 compasses are to be extended from the first term to the se- 
 cond or third, as they may happen to be of the same kind, 
 and that extent will reach from the other terra to the required 
 fourth term, taking both extents towards the same end of the 
 scale. 
 
 Among the many works on trigonometry that may be re- 
 commended to the student's attention, the following require to 
 be noticed. 
 
 " The Trigonometer's Guide, by Benjamin Martin," in two 
 volumes, 8vo. In the course of this work, the examples are 
 very pumerous, and applied to the various departments in n^r
 
 486 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 tural pliilosophy. They are worked according to the three 
 methods mentioned above. 
 
 On nearly the same plan, but on a much more contracted 
 scale, is a small work, entitled " An Easy Introduction to 
 Plane Trigonometry : the application of it to the measuring 
 Heights and Distances ; to the several branches of Natural 
 Philosophy, Land Surveying, 8cc. by C. Ashworlh, D. D." 
 This treatise is practical, and, like the last, adapted for per- 
 sons wlio have not gone deeply into mathematical studies. It 
 contains a great number of examples, and, being of a small 
 price, may be used in connexion with those which are more 
 theoretical, and some of which are very scanty in their exem- 
 plifications. 
 
 ^ " The Elements of Plane and Spherical Trigonometry," by 
 Dr. Robert Simson, consist of only about forty pages, and 
 are attached to his Elements of Euclid. This treatise con- 
 tains the elementary part, and is, says the author, " much 
 the same as the common treatises, excepthig that the demon- 
 strations of several of the propositions are changed into others 
 that were thought better." 
 
 " Trigonometry, Plane and Spherical, with the construc- 
 tion and application of Logarithms." By Thomas Simpson, 
 F. R S. This, like the last, is brief, but, for the most part, 
 clear and perspicuous. The section on the nature and con- 
 struction of logarithms, with their application to the doctrine 
 of triangles, is short, but satisfactory. The author having ex- 
 hibited the maimer of resolving all the common cases of plane 
 and spherical triangles, he subjoins a few propositions for the 
 solution of the more difficult cases which sometimes occur. 
 
 A larger and somewhat plainer disquisition on the nature 
 and use of logarithms stands as an introduction to " A Trea- 
 tise on Plane and Spherical Trigonometry," by the Rev. 
 S. Vince, now Doctor Vince. This is intended as part of a 
 mathematical course, recommended to the students at Cam- 
 bridge, ami is therefore adapted particularly to the viewp of
 
 TRIGONOMETRY. 48? 
 
 the professors of that learned University ; it may, however, 
 answer all the purposes of other persons who are in pursuit of 
 trigonometrical knowledge. 
 
 The " Elements of Plane Trigonometry" are neatly and 
 clearly stated by Mr. Leslie in his work on Geometry, of 
 which we have before spoken ; and to which we mean to 
 make ourselves indebted for certain illustrations on several of 
 the branches of science flowing from the principles of trigo- 
 nometry. As an introduction to this little piece, the learned 
 professor observes, the sides of a triangle are measured, by 
 referring them to some definite portion of linear extent, which 
 is fixed by convention. The mensuration of the angles is 
 effected by means of that universal standard derived from the 
 partition of a circuit. Since angles are proportional to the 
 intercepted arcs of a circle described from their vertex, the 
 subdivision of the circumference, therefore, determines their 
 magnitude. A quadrant, as it corresponds to a right angle, 
 hence forms the basis of angular measures ; but these mea* 
 sures depending on the relation of certain orders of lines con- 
 nected with the circle, he sets out with previously investi^ 
 gating these; and, in order the more clearly to discern the 
 connexion of the lines derived from the circle, Mr. Leslie 
 traces their successive values, while the corresponding arc is 
 supposed to increase. Having thus taken his preliminary 
 steps, his whole tract is comprised in a few theorems and pro- 
 blems, which will not present any serious obstacles to the 
 young mathematician, if he be well grounded in the principles 
 of geometry. This, in mathematics, is, what JDemosthenes 
 said, pronunciation was to oratory, the first, the second, and, 
 in short, every thing. 
 
 " Elements of Trigonometry, plane and spherical, applied 
 to the most useful problems in heights, distances. Astronomy 
 and Navigation," By William Payne, author of Elements of 
 Geometry, already referred to, is a very easy and useful 
 treatise adapted to the use of learners. -''' 
 
 Mr. Woodhouse's Treatise on Plane and Spherical Trigo^
 
 488 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 nometry, may be recommended ; but it b less easy than most 
 of those already noticed. 
 
 There are, no doubt, other tracts of the smaller kind, of 
 real value on trigonometry, of which our own knowledge does 
 not allow us to speak ; and such, we are persuaded, is that by 
 Mr. Bridge. We shall close our account by mentioning two, 
 which are carried to a much greater extent than any of 
 those of which we have already spoken. 
 
 *' A Treatise on Plane and Spherical Trigonometry, with 
 their most considerable applications." By John Bunnycastle. 
 
 "An Introduction to the Theory and Practice of Plane 
 pnd Spherical Trigonometry, and the Stereographic Projec- 
 tion of the Sphere, including the Theory of Navigation," &c. 
 By Thomas Keith. 
 
 To Air. Bonnycastle's introduction, the historical part of 
 this chapter in our work is much indebted, he having more 
 neatly and concisely stated the rise and origin of the trigono- 
 metrical and logarithmic calculus than any other author in our 
 recollection. The author, as will be seen in the foregoing 
 pages, has attributed to the respective authors the honour due 
 to them on account of their several discoveries. The work 
 itself is furnished with a great variety of rules and examples ; 
 and, in the second edition, which is much enlarged, nearly all 
 the practical questions that had been before given, and many 
 of which, he says, had passed in the same state from one 
 work to another for more than a century ; he has re-proposed, 
 with new data, " and in every case," the author adds, " where 
 it was judged necessary, both the examples, and the rules 
 upon which they depend, have been carefully attended to, and 
 reduced to their most commodious and approved forms." 
 
 " The Introduction," by Mr. Keith, tliough not lai^fer in 
 the number of its pages, by its mode of printing, contains a 
 deal more matter, perhaps double the quantity. The author 
 means it for a complete treatise in itself; and, in answer to 
 those who may suppose it too much extended for an introduc- 
 tory treatise, he says, " llie student is here supplied with three
 
 TRIGONOMETRY, 489 
 
 distinct treatises, which are all essential towards his future pro- 
 gress in the science : 1st. A Treatise on Logarithms, and the 
 necessary Tables ; 2d. A Treatise on Practical Trigonometry ; 
 and 3d. A Theoretical Treatise on the Subject." In the part of 
 the volume which comprehends Spherical Trigonometry, the 
 Stereographic Projection of the Sphere is given ; and among 
 many other things, two chapters, that will be found very use- 
 ful to those who are desirous of studying practical Astronomy^ 
 The fourth book includes a brief treatise on the theory and 
 practice of Navigation, which, as we observed in the begin- 
 ning of this chapter, is one of the branches of practical sci- 
 ence that depends almost wholly on trigonometry. The volume 
 concludes with a number of extremely useful tables, among 
 which are a table of logarithms from 1 to 10,000 to five 
 places of decimals ; a table of natural sines to every degree 
 and minute of the quadrant; and a table of logarithmical 
 sines and tangents also to every degree and minute of the 
 quadrant. 
 
 Besides the works avowedly on Trigonometry, we have an 
 excellent work entitled " A Practical Introduction to Spherics 
 and Nautical Astronomy, being an attempt to simplify those 
 useful sciences." By P. Kelly, LL.D : and another " On 
 the Doctrine of the Sphere," in six books, by the Rev. 
 George Walker, F. R. S., containing Preliminary properties 
 of the cone the general doctrine of the Sphere and spheric 
 triangles Projection, orthographic and stereographic, and a 
 treatise on Spheric Trigonometry. This work is, we believe, 
 very scarce, and has at no time been appreciated according to 
 its merit. 
 
 It is usual to have tables of Logarithms in a separate 
 volume; of these there are many entitled to commendation; 
 and, in speaking of them, we cannot follow a more respect- 
 able authority than that of Mr. Bonny castle, who, in his 
 trigonometry, says, " among the most accurate and conveni- 
 ent of whiph, for common use, may be reckoned the edition 
 of Vlacq's small volume of tables, printed at Lyons in 1670
 
 490 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 and another work of this kind, printed at the same place, in 
 1 760 ; but more particularly the edition of Sherwin's Mathe- 
 matical Tables, in 8vo. 1 742, as revised by Gardiner ; also 
 Hutton's Mathematical Tables, in 8vo. first printed in 1785; 
 the Tables of Vega, 2 vols. Bvo. printed at Leipzig , in 1797; 
 and the first edition of the Tables Portatives de Logarithms 
 of Callct, in small 3vo. printed at Paris, 1783 ;* all of which 
 are adapted to the sexagesimal division of the circle, used by 
 Valcq and most of the later compilers. 
 
 " Besides these, several other tables, of a different kind, 
 have been lately published by the French ; in w hich the quadrant 
 is divided, according to their new system of measures, into 
 100 degrees, the degree into 100 minutes, and the minute 
 into 100 seconds ; the principal of which are the second edition 
 of the Tables Portatives of Callet, beautifully printed in ste- 
 reotype, at Paris, by Didot, Bvo. 1 795, with great additions 
 and improvements ; the Trigonometrical Tables of Borda, 
 in 4to. an. ix, revised and enriched with various new precepts 
 and formulae by Delambre ; and the tables lately published at 
 Berlin, by Hobert and Ideler, which are also adapted to the 
 decimal division f the circle, and are highly praised for their 
 accuracy by the French computers. 
 
 " Among the various tables, however, of the sexagenary 
 kind, none have been more esteemed for their usefulness and 
 accuracy than those of Gardiner, printed in 4to. at London, 
 in 1742; which contain the logarithms of all numbers from 1 
 to 102100, and the logarithmic sines and tangents for every 
 ten seconds of the quadrant, to 7 places of decimals, with 
 several other necessary tables ; a new edition of which work 
 was also printed at Avignon, in France, in 1770, under the 
 care of Pezenas, who added to it the sines and tangents of 
 
 TbU neat portable work, which is now become extremely scarce, con- 
 taios all the tables in Gardiner's 4to. volume, hereafter mentioned, with 
 several additions and improvements ; and is, by far, the most useful and 
 convenient performance of the kind that faai yet been offered to the 
 public.
 
 TRIGONOMETRY. . 491 
 
 every single second, for the first 4 degrees, and a small table 
 of hyperbolic logarithms, taken from Simpson's Fluxions. 
 
 *' But of all the trigonometrical tables hitherto published, 
 the most extensive and best adapted for obtaining accurate 
 results, in many delicate astronomical and geodetical observa- 
 tions, are those of Taylor, printed in large 4to. at London, 
 1792; which contain the logarithms of the first common 
 numbers from 1 to 1260, to eight places of decimals; the 
 logarithms of all numbers from 1 to 101000, to 7 places; 
 and the logarithmic sines and tangents of every second in the 
 quadrant, to 7 places ; as also a preface, and various precepts 
 for the explanation and use of the tables, which, from the 
 author's dying before the last sheet of bis work was printed off, 
 were supplied by Dr. Maskelyne, the late astronomer royal. 
 
 " It may here likewise be observed, that besides the common 
 tables hitherto mentioned, which contain the logarithms of 
 numbers in their usual order, others, of a different kind, 
 have been constructed, for the more readily finding the num- 
 ber corresponding to any given logarithm ; of which the prin- 
 cipal one, of any considerable extent, is the Antilogarithmic 
 Canon of Dodson, published at London, in 1 742 ; which 
 contains the numbers corresponding to every logarithm, from 
 1 to 100000, to eleven places of figures, with their differences 
 and proportional parts ; and, though little used at present, is 
 a performance of great labour and merit."-* 
 
 With respect to the new division of the circle, by the French, 
 referred to in the preceding page, and the advantages of which 
 have been so highly applauded by many authors, we may ob- 
 serve, that, though it would unquestionably facilitate calculation, 
 yet it would render useless all existing trigonometrical and 
 astronomical works, as well as the most valuable mathemati- 
 cal instruments, which have been constructed and divided by 
 
 Dr. Wallis informs us, in the 2d vol. of his mathematical works, that 
 an antilogarithmic canon was began by Harriot, the algebraist (who died in 
 1621), and finished by Warner, the editor of his works, about the year 
 I640j but which was lost for want of encouragement to print it.
 
 492 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 die most eminent artists. The best instruments in all tlie 
 observatories of Europe, have been made by British artists, 
 as Ramsden, Troughton, &c., and they are all graduated 
 according to the sexagesimal division of the circle, therefore, 
 supposing the change to take place, recommended by the 
 French, it is manifest that all observations, made with these 
 instruments, must be reduced to the centesimal division of the 
 circle, before they can be used in calculation. All the lati- 
 tudes and longitudes of places on the globe must likewise be 
 changed, which change would render the different works on 
 Geography, in a great measure, useless ; or otherwise, those 
 in the habit of making trigonometrical calculations, must be 
 perpetually turning the old divisions of the circle into the new, 
 or the new into the old. The same may be said of all the 
 logarithmical tables of sines, tangents, &c., so that the change 
 from the sexagesimal division to the centesimal is a matter of 
 doubtful advantage, when balanced with the difficulties that 
 must necessarily attend it.
 
 CHAP. XXXII. 
 
 MATHEMATICS, 
 
 Continued. 
 
 Conic Sections Method of obtaining the several sections History of 
 the Science. Writers upon it Apollonius Pappus Wallis Hamilton 
 Robertson De la Hire Simson Bosco vicb Newtop ^Vince Jack 
 Trevigar Steel, &c. Fluxions rules for finding the fluxions of quan- 
 tities application of fluxions writers on fluxions Newton Rowe 
 Vince Simpson Maclanrin. Doctrine of Chances Annuities, Insur- 
 ance, &c. 
 
 do NIC Sections are such curve lines as are produced by 
 the mutual intersection of a plane, and the surface of a solid 
 cone. The nature and properties of these figures were the 
 subject of an extensive branch of the ancient geometry, and 
 formed a speculation well adapted to the genius of the Greeks. 
 In modern times the conic geometry is intimately connected 
 with every part of the higher mathematics and natural philo- 
 sophy. A knowledge of the great discoveries of the last 
 century, cannot be attained without a familiar acquaintance 
 with the figures and properties of the conic sections. 
 These sections are derived from the different ways in 
 which the solid cone is cut, by a plane passing through it ;
 
 494 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 and they are, a triangle, a circle^ an ellipse, a parabola, and an 
 hyperbola. The last three of these, are pecuHarly called 
 Conic Sections, and the invesligation of their nature and pro- 
 perties, is generally denoted by the term " Conies." The 
 mode of obtaining these sections is as follows : 
 
 (].) If the cutting plane pass through the vertex of the 
 cone, and any part of the base, the section will be a triangle. 
 
 (2.) If the plane cut the cone parallel to the circular bjise, 
 the section will be a circle, provided the cone be a right 
 one. 
 
 (3.) The section is a parabola when the cone is cut by a 
 plane parallel to the side ; or, when the cutting plane and 
 the side of the cone make equal angles with the base. 
 
 (4.) The section is an ellipse, when the cone is cut oblique- 
 ly through both sides, or when the plane is inclined to the 
 ..base in a less angle than the side of the cone is. 
 
 (5.) The section is an hyperbola, when the cutting plane 
 makes a greater angle with the base than the side of the cone 
 makes, and if the plane be continued to cut the opposite 
 cone, this latter section is called the opposite hyperbola to 
 the former. 
 
 (6.) The vertices of any section are the points where the 
 cutting plane meets the opposite sides of the cone. Hence, 
 the ellipse and the opposite hyperbolas have each two vertices, 
 but the parabola only one. 
 
 There is no work ofantiquity which professedly treats of the 
 history of conic sections, that has reached our time, and 
 there is little to satisfy curiosity in this inquiry, excepting 
 some incidental notices collected from different authors. The 
 discovery of the curves, denominated the conic sections, is 
 attributed to the philosophers of the school of Plato, or even 
 to Plato himself. The theory of these curves probably grew 
 up gradually from small beginnings, increasing in magnitude 
 and importance, by the successive improvements of many 
 geoinetricians. The histor}' of the malliematics mentions two 
 problems, famous in ancient times, and both of them so
 
 CONIC SECTIONS. 495 
 
 difficult as to surpass the limits of plane geometry. These 
 problems were the duplication of the cube, and llie trisection 
 of an angle ; and there is no doubt, but that the theory of the 
 conic sections received great additions, and was enriched with 
 many new properties, by the researches that were undertaken 
 for resolving these problems. Two solutions of the former 
 problem, derived from the conic sections, are preserved by 
 utochius, in his commentary on the works of Archimedes, 
 which are attributed to Menechmus. Some solutions of the 
 latter problem, by means of the conic sections, are likewise 
 extant in ancient authors, for which, science is thought to be 
 indebted to the ingenuity of die followers of Plato. Hence 
 it has been inferred, that great progress must have been made 
 in investigating the properties of the conic sections before the 
 time of Archimedes. This conclusion is confirmed by the 
 writings of that celebrated mathematician, the best and most 
 splendid edition of whose works was printed at the Oxford 
 press, in 1792. In these works many principal propositions 
 are there expressly said to have been demonstrated by preced- 
 ing writers, and are spoken of as truths commonly known to 
 mathematicians. Archimedes himself, - perhaps the greatest 
 genius of antiquity, and deserving to be ranked with Galileo 
 and Newton, enriched the theory of the conic sections, with 
 many noble discoveries. After a lapse ofiwo thousand years, the 
 quadrature of the parabola is even yet the most remarkable 
 instance in the science of geometry, of the exact equality of 
 a curvilinear to a rectilineal space. To this discovery must 
 be added, the determining of the proportions of the elliptic 
 spaces to one another, and to the circle ; and likewise the 
 mensuration of the solids generated by the revolution of the 
 conic sections about their axes. 
 
 We are principally indebted to the preservation of the writ- 
 ings of Apollonius, for a more perfect knowledge of the 
 theories of the ancient geometricians, on conic sections. He 
 was instructed in geometry in the school of Alexandria ; and 
 under the successors of Euclid, he there acquired that superior
 
 496 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 skill ill the science which distinguishes his writings. Besidt# 
 his great work on conic sections, he published many smaller 
 treatises, relating chiefly to geometrical analysis, which have 
 all perished, and are known to us only by the account given of 
 them in the seventh book of the collections of Pappus. 
 
 The treatise of ApoUonius on the conic sections, is writ- 
 ten in eight books, and it was a work in such high estimation 
 among his contemporaries, that it obtained for him the title 
 of " The great matliematician." 
 
 The four first books of the conies of ApoUonius, is the 
 only part of that work that has come down to us in the origi- 
 nal Greek. But in the year 1658, Borelli, passing through 
 Florence, found an Arabic manuscript in the library of the 
 Medici family, which he judged to be a translation of all the 
 eight books of the Conies of ApoUonius. Transported with 
 joy, he had interest enough to prevail on the Duke of Tus- 
 cany to entrust him with the manuscript, Nvhich he carried to 
 Rome, where he published a translation of it in 160 1. The 
 manuscript found by Borelli, was entitled " Apollouii Pergaei 
 Libri Octo," and was at first supposed to be a complete 
 translation of tlie work of the ancient geometrician ; but on 
 examination, it was found to contain the first seven books 
 only. Two other Arabic translations of the conies of Apol- 
 lonius, have since that period been discovere<i, but both these 
 have the same defect as that found at Florence. Hence it is 
 imagined, that since all the three manuscripts agree in wanting 
 the eighth book, that it was not in existence when the Arabic 
 translations were made. It cannot be ascertained when the 
 original of ApoUonius 's work disappeared, but it is certain 
 that it was extant in the time of Pappus of Alexandria, as in 
 his " CoUecliones Mathematicze," is given an account of the 
 contents of the eight books, and he has even added the lem- 
 mas required for the demonstrations of the propositions which 
 they contain: and this circumstance enabled Dr. Halley to 
 annex to his edition of the conies of ApoUonius, published in 
 1710, a restoration of the eighth book, executed with so
 
 CONIC SECTIONS. 497 
 
 much talent as to leave little room to regret the want of the 
 original. 
 
 The mathematicians who followed Apollonius, seem to 
 have been content with the humble task of illustrating his 
 treatise. We shall not attempt to enumerate all the commen- 
 tators who, at different times, have written on his work, and 
 have endeavoured to render the important truths contained in it, '. 
 of more easy access to the general class of mathematicians. 
 Among the number, however, was the learned and accom- 
 plished Hypatia, whose praises we have already recorded ; and 
 we are still in possession of the lemmas of Pappus, and of 
 the pomnilntary of Eutochins on the four first books. Since 
 tlie revival of learning, the theory of Conic Sections has been 
 much cultivated, and is the subject of a great variety of 
 works. 
 
 Th^re is, says a writer on this subject, a relation subsisting 
 between all parts of human knowledge, which frequently con- 
 nects speculations the most abstracted, and seemingly the 
 most barren, with inquiries that are highly interesting to us, 
 and most fertile in its consequences. In studying the proper- 
 ties of the Conic Sections, the followers of Plato sought 
 merely to gratify a contemplative mind, without the most dis- 
 tant regard to practical utility ; but, among the^ moderns, 
 they have been employed to explain many of the most re- 
 markable phenomena of the material world. The doctrine 
 of the Conic Sections has been found of utility in the science 
 of optics, as well as in determining the path of a projectile 
 body. This branch of mathematics, however, derives its chief 
 importance from the application that is made of it in modern 
 astronomy. 
 
 There are different modes of treating this branch of sci- 
 ence ; before Dr. Wallis, all writers on Conic Sections fol- 
 lowed the ancient geometricians in making the solid cone the 
 common origin and foundation of their theories. But that 
 great mathematician, in a work entitled " De Sectionibus 
 Conjcis," published at Oxford in 1655, deduced all the pro? 
 vo):.. 1. 2 jf
 
 498 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 perties of the curves from a description of them on a plane ; 
 since which, authors have been divided as to the best way of 
 defining the curves, and demonstrating their elementary pro- 
 perties. Many, in imitation of the ancient geometricians, 
 make the cone the foundation of their theories, while others, 
 equally respectable for talents and learning, have followed 
 ;the example of Dr. Wallis. 
 
 The latest and most approved writers, who have deduced 
 tlte properties of the Conic Sections fix>ni the cone itself, are 
 Dr. Hugh Hamilton, whose work, originally published in the 
 Latin language in 1?^, was translated in 1773, under the 
 title of " A Geometrical Treatise of the Qonic Sections, io 
 which the properties of the sections are derived from the na- 
 ture of the cone, in an easy manner, and by a new method ;" 
 and Dr. Abraham Robertson, professor of Oxford, whose 
 work was published in the Latin language in 1792. Dr. 
 Hamilton, in treating on this subject, explains the nature of 
 the conic surface in such a manner, that, as soon as the seve- 
 ral curves are defined by the intersection of a plane with this 
 surface, it appears what their principal properties are. " Ac- 
 cordingly," he says, " before the sections are defined, certain 
 properties of the Conic Sections are demonstrated, which 
 contain in them most of the fundamental properties of the 
 Sections. Then, since it appears from their definitions, that 
 these sections are curves, all the points of which are placed 
 on a conic surface, it is manifest that every right line which 
 any way meets these sections, must, in the same manner, and 
 in the same points, meet the conic surface ; and, therefore, all 
 the properties which are proved to agree with right lines 
 meeting the conic surface, are immediately transferred to 
 those which meet the Conic Sections. Thus the principal 
 and most general properties of the sections being laid down 
 in the beginning, he expects that their particular properties 
 will be more easily deduced. 
 
 Besides these, we have, as has been already observed, many 
 treatises on the Conic Sections, in which the cone is entirely
 
 CONIC SECTIONS. 499 
 
 laid aside, and the curves are given and defined from descrip- 
 tions in piano. M. De la Hire, in his treatise entitled 
 *' Nouveaux Elemens des Sections Coniques/*" published in 
 Paris in 1679, is the first author who successfully treated on 
 Conic Sections in this new view of the subject. " He derives 
 his description of the parabola from the equality that subsists 
 between two lines meeting in any point of the curve, one of 
 which is drawn to the focus, and the other is perpendicular to 
 the directrix ; and he describes the ellipse and hyperbola from 
 the analogous properties, that in the fornjer, the sum of two 
 lines drawn from any point in the curve to the two foci, and, 
 in the latter, the difference of two such lines, are equal to 
 their transverse axis." In Uiese fundamental properties, De 
 la Hire is followed by most of the later writers, who have 
 treated of the Conic Sections independently of the cone ; 
 and hi particular by Dr. Robert Simson, of Glasgow, who 
 published in 1735, an extensive treatise on this subject, en- 
 titled " Sectionum Conicarum," lib. v. a work which is en- 
 titled to high commendation, on account of its elegance and 
 geometrical accuracy. An English translation of the first 
 three book* of this work, in 8vo. was published in London in 
 1775, and again in Glasgow in 1804, entitled " Elements of 
 the Conic Sections." 
 
 Besides the method of De la Hire, another way of defining 
 curves in piano has been proposed, founded on a general pro- 
 perty of the directrix, first discovered, or at least given, by 
 Pappus, viz. the ratio that subsists between the distances of 
 every point in the curve from the focus and the directrix. 
 The Abbe Boscovich has drawn his definitions of the curves 
 from this fundamental property, in his treatise entitled " Ele- 
 menta Matheseos Universae ;" and we have a work in our own 
 language, which is founded on the same primary definitions, 
 viz. " A short treatise on the Conic Sections, in which the 
 three curves are derived from a general description on a 
 plane, and the most useful properties of each deduced from 
 a common principle/' by the Rev. T. Newtou, This is an 
 
 2 K 2
 
 500 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 admirable little performance, and may be recommended to 
 those students who wish to get a sufficient insight into the 
 subject without much expense of money or time. The de- 
 monstrations are neat, and frequently elegant. The author 
 has compressed into about a hundred pages all those proposi- 
 tions with which every one ought to be acquainted, previously 
 to his entering on the Principia of Newton, and the other 
 branches of natural philosophy; and he has taken care that 
 the demonstrations should be strictly geometrical, and siich as 
 the young student will find no difficulty in understanding, pro- 
 vided he be well acquainted with the Elements of Euclid, 
 and plane trigonometry. It should be observed also, tliat 
 !Pr. Hamilton intended the work, described above, as an In> 
 troduction to the Newtonian philosophy ; and he gives fre- 
 quent references to certain propositions in the Principia. 
 With a similar view, the following work, still more concise 
 than that of Mr. Newton, was published, of which the first 
 edition was entitled " The Elements of the Conic Sections, 
 as preparatory to the reading of Sir Isaac Newton's Principia," 
 by the Rev. S. Vince. In the subsequent editions, Dr. Vince 
 has dropped the latter part of the title, and, in its stead, has 
 inserted " Adapted to the Students in Philosophy." It will 
 be found an useful treatise, as introductory to larger works. 
 
 " Elements of Conic Sections, in three books," &c. by 
 Richard Jack, we remember to have read many years ago 
 with satisfaction. 
 
 The propositions of Trevigar's work on this subject in 
 L^tin, and those in Steel's, in English, are demonstrated al- 
 gebraically. Besides the above works, there are many others, 
 viz. one by Milne, in Latin, others by Muller and Emerson, 
 and one of the latest by Dr. Hutton, adapted chiefly to the 
 students at Woolwich. By some modems likewise, the sub- 
 ject has been treated of in a very elaborate manner, as by 
 Euler, Prony, and Lacroix, who have inferred the chief pro- 
 perties of the Conic Sections from the different modifications 
 pf the general algebraic equations of lines of the second order.
 
 FLUXIONS. 501 
 
 and the establislied analogies between the properties of equa- 
 tions, and those of curves. 
 
 FLUXIONS. 
 
 To forlh a proper idea of the nature of fluxions, all kinds 
 of magnitudes are to be considered as generated by the conti- 
 nual motion of some of their bounds or extremes, as a line 
 by the motion of a point, a surface by the motion of a line, 
 and a solid by the motion of a surface. Every quantity so 
 generated is called a variable, or flowing quantity ; and a 
 fluxion may be defined as the magnitude by which any flow- 
 ing quantity would be uniformly increased in a given portion 
 of time, with the generating celerity at any particular instant, 
 supposing it from thence to continue invariable, which is thus 
 explained by Mr. Thbnias Simpson, in his work entitled 
 " The Doctrine and Application of Fluxions :" Thus, let 
 the point m, plate 1, fig. 1, be conceived to move from A, 
 and generate the variable right line Aw, by a motion any how 
 regulated ; and let the celerity thereof, when it arrives at any 
 proposed position R, be such as would, was it to continue 
 uniform from that point, be sufficient to describe the distance, 
 or line Rr, in the given time allotted for the fluxion ; then 
 will Rr be the fluxion of the variable hne Am, in that po- 
 sition. 
 
 The fluxion of a plane surface is conceived in like manner, 
 by supposing a given right line mti, fig. 2, to move parallel to 
 itself, in the plane of the parallel^ and immovable lines AF 
 and BG ; for if Rr be taken to express the fluxion of the 
 line Am, and the rectangle RrsS be completed, then that 
 rectangle, being the space which would be uniformly described 
 by the generating line mn, in the time that Am would be uni- 
 formly increased by mr, is therefore the fluxion of the gene- 
 rated rectangle Bw, in that position, according to the true 
 meaning of the definition. 
 
 If the length of the generating line mn, fig. 3, continually 
 varies, the fluxion of the area will still be expounded by a
 
 502 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 rectangle under that line, and the fluxion of the abscissa, or 
 base : for let the curvilineal space Amn be generated by the 
 continual and parallel motion of the (now) variable line mn, 
 and let Rr be the fluxion of the base, or abscissa, Am (as be- 
 fore) ; then the rectangle RrsS will, here also, be the fluxion 
 of the generated space Amn; because, if the length and velo- 
 city of the generating line mn were to continue invariable 
 from the position RS, the rectangle RrsS would then be uni- 
 formly generated, with the very celerity wherewith it begins 
 to be generated, or with which the space Amn is increased in 
 that position. 
 
 From what has been hitherto said, it will appear, that the 
 fluxions of quantities are always in proportion to the celeri- 
 ties hy which the quantities themselves increase in magnitude; 
 M'hence it will not be difhcult to form 9 notion of the fluxions 
 of quantities otherwise generated, as well such as arise from 
 the revolution of right lines and planes, as those by parallel 
 motions. 
 
 In the application of algebra to the theory of curve lines, 
 we find that some of the quantities which are the subject of 
 consideration, may be conceived as having always the same 
 magnitude as the diameter of a circle ; the parameter of a 
 parabola ; and the axis of an ellipse, or hyperbola ; while 
 others are indefinite in respect of magnitude, and may have 
 any number of particular values ; such are the ordinates, &c. 
 of a curve line. This difference in the nature of the quanti- 
 ties which are compared together, takes place in other theo- 
 ries, and on other subjects, in pure and mixed mathematics, 
 which suggests the division of all quantities whatever, into 
 those that are constant, and those that are variable. 
 
 A constant quantity is that which retains always the same 
 magnitude, although other quantities with which it is con- 
 nected, may be supposed to change ; and a variable quantity 
 is. that which is indefinite in respect to magnitude, according 
 to its position. Thus the radius of a circle is a constant 
 quantity, while the sine, co-sine, tangent, secant, &c. of an
 
 FLUXIONS. 503 
 
 Urc, are variable quantities, depending upon the magnitude of 
 the arc for their relative value. In Conic Sections likewise, 
 the axes, and the parameters of the axes, are constant quanti- 
 ties, and the abscissas and ordiuates are variable quantities. 
 To determine the values of these variable quantities, the doc- 
 trine of fluxions, invented by the illustrious Newton, when he 
 was only twenty-three years of age, is perfectly adapted ; and, 
 by this doctrine, as it has been explained and illustrated by 
 various authors, m^ny difficulties, insurmountable by any other 
 known method, are solved with expedition, ease, and elegance. 
 We shall just give our reader an insight into the science, by 
 shewing, in a few of the simplest cases, which the young al- 
 gebraist will readily understand, how fluxions are adapted for 
 determining the maxima and minima of bodies for drawing 
 tangents to curves, &c. by which he will readily understand 
 in what way the science may be made to extend to the inves- 
 tigation of the most abstruse and difficult problems in the 
 various branches of mathematics and natural philosophy. 
 
 Constant quantities are usually denoted by the early letters 
 of the alphabet, as a, b, c, &c. and those that are variable, 
 by the latter letters, as u, w, x, y, and z. The diameter of 
 a given circle may be represented by a, and the sine, tangent, 
 &c. of an arc or angle of it, by ar. 
 
 The fluxion of a quantity represented by a single letter, is 
 usually expressed by the same letter with a dot over it; thus 
 the fluxion of x is represented by x, of y by y, of z by z, 
 and so on. 
 
 The rules for finding the fluxions of any flowing quantities 
 are as follow, x being the fluxion of x. 
 
 1 . To find the fluxion of a given fluent, in which there is 
 but one variable quantity. Rule. Mark the letter that re- 
 presents the variable quantity with a dot over it, and you 
 have the fluxion required. Thus the fluxion of ax is a x. 
 For, if we suppose the variable rectangle AS, fig. 2, to be 
 generated by the given line RS, setting out from the situation
 
 504 MATHEMATfCS. 
 
 AB, and moving along \vith a parallel motion between tfi 
 parallel and indefinite lines BG and AF, it is evident that the 
 velocity with which the rectangle flows, is equal to the gene- 
 rating line RS multiplied into velocity with which the point 
 R moves along the line AF j that is, tlie fluxion of the rect- 
 angle AS is equal to the invariable line RS, multiplied into 
 the fluxion of the variable quantity AR. Therefore, if AB, 
 or its equal RS, be denoted by a, and AR, or BS x, then 
 thef fluxion of the rectangle a t, will be equal a x x-=.a x. 
 2. To find the fluxion of the product of two or more flow- 
 ing quantities multiplied into each other. Rule. Multiply 
 the fluxion of each quantity separately, by the other, or the 
 product of the rest of the quantities ; and the sum of these 
 products will be the fluxion required. Thus the fluxion of 
 X yrrx y + x y; of x y z=:x yz + xyz + xyz, &c. The 
 reason of this and the following rules, is given in all the intro- 
 ductory books to the science, to several of which we shall 
 presently direct the attention of the reader. 
 
 3. To find the fluxion of a fraction. Rule. Multiply the 
 denominator into the fluxion of the numerator; from the pro- 
 duct of which, subtract the numerator multiplied into the 
 fluxion of the denominator ; then divide the remainder by the 
 square of the denominator, and the result is the fluxion of the 
 
 X XV XV 
 
 fraction required. Thus the fluxion of - =. 1 ; and 
 
 X- G X xy' 3 x'^ y^ y_2 X X y 3 x' y 
 the fluxion of -r= 1 ~i . 
 
 yS y6 y* 
 
 The following examples will shew the application of flux- 
 icms to the solution of problems de maximis et minimis, and 
 to Ae drawing tangents to curves. 
 
 Ex. 1. To divide a given right line A B in two such parts, 
 A C and B C, that the rectangle of their parts may be the 
 greatest possible. 
 
 Suppose the whole line A B 
 - the variable part equal x 
 then the other part will be a x
 
 J'LUXIONS. 505 
 
 of course the rectangle required will be a x x xr:a tx', 
 of which the fluxion is ox 2 x x which being put equal to 
 
 o ; we have a\ zz 2 x x or a =: 2 x and x ^ . Therefore 
 
 2" 
 
 the rectangle will be the greatest possible, when the line is 
 equally divided. 
 
 2. To determine the greatest rectangle that can be inscrib- 
 ed in a given triangle. See fig. 4. 
 
 Put the Base AC of thfe given Triangle b, and its Alti- 
 tude BD =. a ; and let the Altitude (BS) of the inscribed 
 Rectangle mc (considered as variable) be denoted by x: Then, 
 because of the parallel Lines AC, and ac, it will be as BD 
 
 (fl) : AC (6) : : DS (a j) : ^^~^^ zzac : Whence the Area 
 
 of the Rectangle, or ac x BS will be= ^^^~^^^ : Whose 
 
 a 
 
 Fluxion '^ being put = o, we shall get x^z^a. 
 
 Whence the greatest inscribed Rectangle is that whose Alti- 
 tude is just half the Altitude of the Triangle. 
 
 A tangent is a right line which coincides with a curve in a 
 point, and there shews its direction, that is, the inclination 
 which it bears to the axis, or the angle it makes with the 
 ordinate. Now, in general, what is requisite in order to 
 draw a tangent to any point, is to find the right line, called 
 the sub-tangent, or the distance of the point from the ordinate 
 through which the tangent must pass. 
 
 Ex. I. To draw a Tangent to a Circle. See fig. 5. 
 
 Put the radius EA or ED a, absciss AC zz x, and 
 ordinate C B r= 3/ ; then, CD = '2 a x. Now, by 35 
 E. 3. A C X C D z: C B^, that is, Q a xx"^ =f ; and 
 this equation put into Fluxions ie 2 ax 2xa: 2^y; 
 
 which, divided by 2 a 2 x, makes x =. V V ; which 
 
 a X 
 
 substituted for x in the general expression found by other means,
 
 606 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 for die Subtaiigent, viz. \^' makes the Subtangent C T = 
 
 n 
 
 -^ (which, by writing lax x" for its above value, viz. 
 a X 
 
 V', is) = ~^ = \-7^' Wherefore, if the distance 
 
 a X LC 
 
 signified by this expression be set off from tlie poirvt C, in 
 the diameter D A produced, we shall have the point T 
 through which the Tangent to the point B must pass. 
 
 Construction. Through the point B describe the semi- 
 circle E B T : tlien will T be the point from which the Tan- 
 gent to tlie point B is to be drawn. For, by 3 1 E. 3. the ai^le 
 E B T w ill be right ; and therefore, by 8 E. 6. the triangles 
 EC B and B CT will be similar, and by 4E. 6. EC : C B 
 
 : :BC:CT; -.CT^^l 
 
 EC 
 
 Ex. II. To draw a Tangent to a Parabola. See Fig. 6. 
 
 Suppose F to be the focus ; and P R the parameter, which 
 put = a ; also, put the absciss A C z= x, and ordinate 
 C B = ^., Now, by a well known property of the curve, 
 PR X A C = C B^, that is, ax y^ \ the Fluxion of which 
 
 equation is a x 2 y y ; therefore, x -J^. > w hich substi- 
 
 a 
 
 tuted for x, makes the general expression for the Subtangent 
 
 C T n ^iJ (by substituting a x for - its value,) 
 
 a . o 
 
 = 2 X. So that, the Subtangent C T is double the absciss 
 
 A C ; and consequently, A T is 3: AC. 
 
 Of the several works w ritten on this subject, the follow ing 
 seem to require particular notice. 
 
 " The method of Fluxions and infinite Series, with its ap- 
 plication to the Geometry of curve lines, by the inventor. Sir 
 Isaac Newton, to which is subjoined, a perpetual Comment 
 upon the whole work," S(,c. by John Colson. This will al- 
 ways be regarded as a standard work, but it is not exactly 
 suited to young persons entering upon the subject.
 
 FLUXIONS. 507 
 
 Mr. John Rowe's " Introduction to the Doctrine of 
 Fluxions," is divided into two parts, the first treats of the 
 direct method of fluxions, and the second of the inverse 
 method. This latter, which is unquestionably the most difficult 
 part of the fluxionary calculus, viz. that of finding the fluent 
 from the fluxion being given, is introduced with the doctiine 
 of infinite series. The whole is written in so plain and per- 
 spicuous a manner, that the learner, who is previously well 
 acquainted with the arithmetic of rsurds, need not be deterred 
 from entering upon the study of Mr. Rowe's treatise. Of this 
 the third edition was printed in 1767. 
 
 The same may be said of " The Principles of Fluxions,** 
 by the Rev. S. Vince, D. D. F. R. S., which is a neat intro- 
 duction to this branch of science. The third edition of which 
 was published in 1805. 
 
 A more elaborate and more difficult piece is entitled " The 
 Doctrine and Application of Fluxions, &c., in two parts, by 
 Thomas Simpson, F. R. S." But the principal work is Mr. 
 Maclaurin's " Treatise of Fluxions," in two volumes, 4to. 
 In this the subject is handled agreeably to the method of rea- 
 soning used by the ancient mathematicians, without having 
 ^course to algebraic solutions. To his demonstrations of this 
 doctrine he has added many valuable improvements of it, and 
 has applied it to so many curious and useful inquiries, that 
 the work has been denominated a store-house of mathematical 
 learning, rather than a treatise on one branch of it. Through- 
 out the whole there appears a masterly genius and uncom- 
 mon address. The biographer of Mr. Maclaurin, speak- 
 ing of him in connexion with his Treatise on Fluxions, says, 
 " he had a quick, comprehensive view, taking in, at once, all 
 the means of investigation, he could select the fittest for his 
 purpose, and apply them with exquisite art and method. 
 This is a faculty not to be acquired by exercise only ; we 
 ought rather to call it a species of that taste, the gift of na- 
 ture, which in mathematics, as in other things, distinguishes 
 excellence from mediocrity."
 
 508 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 DOCTRINE OF CHANCES. 
 
 The doctrine of Chances being of great importance, 
 when applied to tlie solution of questions in life-annuities, 
 insurance, reversions, &c. it is necessary briefly to point out 
 those works in wliich its principles are laid down and in- 
 vestigated. 
 
 This subject, no less useful than interesting and curious, 
 does not appear to have engaged the attention of mathemati- 
 cians in former times, so murh as its importance may seem to 
 have required. Tlie writers upon it, in our own language, are 
 comparatively few. To M. Huygens we are indebted for 
 the first regular tract on this subject, which was in the Latin 
 language, and entitled *' De Ratiociniis in Ludo Aleae;" this 
 work, however, from the comparatively few problems which it 
 contains, and the want of demonstration to some of them, 
 cannot be regarded as an elementary treatise. To this suc- 
 ceeded a small anonymous tract entitled, " on the Laws of 
 Chance," published in London in J C)92, and a French publica- 
 tion Entitled ** L' Analyse des Jeux de Hazard," written by 
 M. Monmort, and published in 1708. Iliis author, following 
 tlie mode of M. Huygens in the solution of his problems^ 
 M. de Moivre, who objected to it, published his work " On 
 the Doctrine of Chances," which was first published in 1717, 
 but which has been twice or thrice reprinted since. The edi- 
 tion of 1756, is, it is believed, the best. M. De Moivre pro- 
 ceeds from the most simple to the most complicated cases ; so 
 that, by the variety of his problems, as well as by the improve- 
 ments and additions which he made in two subsequent edi- 
 tions, he has rendered his work the best and most copious that 
 has ever been written on the subject. In the year 1 740, Mr. 
 Thomas Simpson published a very thin and small quarto, on 
 *' The Nature and Laws of Chance, illustrated wiih a great va- 
 riety of Examples," which, like his other publications, is not 
 only clear and concise, but contains some problems, the solu* 
 tious of which had never before been communicated to the
 
 DOCTRINE OF CHANCES. 509 
 
 public. Mr. Dodson, in the year 1753, rendered the subject 
 still more accessible to persons not far advanced in analytical 
 studies, by publishing in the second volume of his " Mathema- 
 tical Repository," a number of questions with their solutions, 
 but chiefly with the view of applying them to the doctrine of 
 annuities and survivorships. In addition to these, may be 
 mentioned a small tract, " De Mensura Sortis," given by M. 
 De Moivre, in his " Miscellanea Analytica," and some pa- 
 pers published at different times in the Transactions of the 
 learned Societies on the Continent, and those of the Royal 
 Society of London." " Among which," says Mr. Morgan, in 
 the article Chances, in the New Cyclopedia, " may be parti- 
 cularly mentioned an " Essay on the Method of calculating 
 the e.xact probability of all conclusions founded on Induction," 
 and a " Supplement " to that Essay ; the one preserved from 
 the papers of the late Rev. Mr. Bayes, and communicated 
 with an appendix, by Dr. Price, to the Royal Society in the 
 year 1762, and the other chiefly written by Dr. Price, and 
 communicated in the following year. " These tracts contain 
 the investigation of a problem, the converse of which had for- 
 merly exercised the ingenuity of M. Bernoulli, De Moivre, 
 and Simpson. Indeed both the problem, and its converse, 
 may be considered not only as the most difficult, but as the 
 most important that can be proposed on the subject, having no 
 less an object in view, than to shew what reason we have for 
 believing that there are in the constitution of things, fixed laws, 
 according to which events happen ; and that therefore, the 
 frame of the world must be the effect of the wisdom and 
 power of an intelligent cause, and thus to confirm the argu- 
 ment, taken from final causes, for the existence of Deity." 
 
 Besides the above-named works on the Doctrine of Chan- 
 ces, which is of very great consequence in this country, where 
 the valuation of an immense property, and the future provision 
 of many thousands, entirely depend on the right knowledge of 
 it, we may mention a treatise just published, entitled " Tl^e
 
 510 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 Doctrine of Chances, or the Theory of Gaming made easy to 
 every Person acquainted with common Arithmetic, so as to 
 enable them to calculate the probabilities of events, in Ix)tte- 
 ries, Cards, Horse Racing, Dice, &c. with tables on Chance 
 never before published, by Wm. Rouse." The principles of 
 the Doctrine of Chances cannot be altered they are invariable ; 
 but Mr. Rouse may have made them more intelligible to the 
 unlearned, among whom we presume gamblers are usually to be 
 reckoned, who require a strong stimulus to engage their atten- 
 tion, but who have not sufficient energy to make study either the 
 business or amusement of life. The tables, mentioned in the 
 title, are intended to shew, at one view, the Chances for and 
 against winning any assigned number of Games, at any kind of 
 play, out of a given number, &c. How far this volume has 
 a claim to the character of accuracy we know not, it being 
 too recent a publication to admit of its having been read. 
 
 If the doctrine of Chances could be applied only to the 
 principles of Gaming, it would be of comparative little value ; 
 but as upon that doctrine depends every thing relating to Annu- 
 ities, to Survivorships, and to Reversions, we shall endea- 
 Tour, in a few words, to state the connexion of these several 
 subjects. 
 
 Chance is particularly used for the probability of an event, 
 and is greater or less, according to the number of chances 
 there are by which it may happen, compared with the number 
 by which it may either happen or fail. Thus, if an event has 
 three chances to happen, and two to fail, the probability of its 
 happening may be estimated at I ths, and of its failing, | ths. 
 Hence it appears, that if the probability of its happening and 
 failing be .added together, the sum is equal to unity. The ex- 
 pectation of obtaining any thing is estimated by the value of 
 that thing, multiplied by the probability of obtaining it. The 
 risk of losing any thing is estimated by the value of the thing 
 multiplied by the probability of losing it. Applying this to 
 gamingf we say, if from the expectations which the gamesters
 
 ANNUITIES, INSURANCE, &C. 511 
 
 have upon the whole snm deposited, the particular sums they 
 deposit, that is, their own stakes, be subtracted, there will re- 
 main the gain, if the difference is positive ; or the loss, if the 
 difference be negative. Again, if from the respective expecta- 
 tions which either gamester has upon the sum deposited by his 
 adversary, the risk of losing what he himself deposits be sub- 
 tracted, there will likewise remain his gain or loss. 
 
 ANNUITIES, INSURANCE, &c. 
 
 In the application of the subject to insurance and life- 
 annuities, we say, if there is a certain number of chances by 
 which the possession of a sum can be secured, and also a 
 certain number of chances by which it may be lost, that sum 
 may be insured for that part of it, which shall be to the 
 whole, as the number of chances there is to lose it, is to the 
 number of all the chances. 
 
 From the bills of mortality in different places, tables have 
 been constructed, which shew how many persons, upon an 
 average, out of a certain number born, are lost, or have died at 
 the end of each year, to the extremity of life : from such tables 
 \\\e probability of the continuance of a life of any proposed age 
 is known. Hence we have tables calculated, shewing the 
 Expectation of human life at every age, according to the 
 probabilities of life at every age; and from these tables, 
 founded upon the doctrine of chances, the value of Annuities, 
 and of the insurance of single and joint lives, &c. is ascertained. . 
 
 The present value of a life-annuity is the sum that would 
 be sufficient, allowing for the chances of life failing, to pay the 
 annuity without loss : of course, if money bore no interest, the 
 value of an annuity would be equal to the sum, to be yearly 
 paid, multiplied by the number of years, equal to the ex- 
 pectation of life. But since money is capable of being im- 
 proved at interest, the sum just mentioned, would be more! 
 than sufficient to pay the annuity, and it will be as mucll- 
 more than sufficient, according as the interest is greater. Thus 
 it is found; that the expectation of a life of twenty, is equal to
 
 512 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 thirty three years and a half, therefore to purchase an annuity 
 of of 1 per annum, for such a life, a person must pay, if there 
 Mere no interest on money, the sum of 33. 10s. but money 
 improved at 5 per cent, interest, doubles itself in about fourteen 
 years ; and from this, and other circumstances which we cannot 
 here enter into, the sum to be paid, will not be more than 
 about o 14. From the principles now described, methods are 
 obtained for calculating the value of an annuity for a person of 
 any given age for the longest of two or more lives, &c. Or 
 the value of a given sum payable at the decease of a person, 
 whenever tliat shall happen, that is, the value of an assurance 
 of any given sum on the whole duration of life, which is the 
 principal object of several most respectable insurance offices 
 in London. On the same principles as those already described, 
 tlie value of reversions is found, and the sum necessary to be 
 paid to insure property from the risk of fire, and loss by sea, 
 &c. This may at first sight appear very strange, and on that 
 account we shall transcribe the following paragraphs from 
 an admirable critique, in the Edinburgh Review, on a work 
 entitled " Essai Philosophique sur les Probabihtes. Par 
 M. Le Compte Laplace." " The way in which probability 
 is affected by the indefinite multiplication of events, is a 
 remarkable part of this theory. If out of a system of events 
 governed by chance (or by no perceivable law) you take a 
 small number, you will find great irregularity, and nothing 
 that looks like order, or obedience to a general rule. Increase 
 the number of events, or take in a larger extent of the ^boiain 
 over which you suppose chance to preside, you will find the 
 irregularities bear a much less proportion to the whole ; they 
 vijl in a certain degree compensate for one another; and 
 something like order and regularity will begin to emerge. In 
 proportion as the events are farther multiplied, tliis convergency 
 will become more apparent; and in summing up the total 
 amount, the events will appear adjusted to one another,, by 
 rules, from which hardly any deviation can be perceived. 
 " Thus, in considering the subject of life and death ; if W6
 
 ANNUITIES, INSURANCE, SiC. 513 
 
 take a small extent of country, or a few people, a single 
 parish for instance, nothing like a general rule will be dis- 
 covered. The proportion of the deaths to the numbers alive, 
 or to the numbers born ; of those living at any age to those 
 above or below that age, all this will appear the most dif- 
 ferent in one year, compared with the next ; or in one district 
 compared with another. But subject to your examination the 
 parish registeYs of a great country, or a populous city, and 
 the facts will appear quite different. You will find the pro- 
 portion of those that die annually out of a given number of 
 inhabitants, fixed with great precision, as well as of those that 
 are born, and that have reached to the different periods of 
 life. In the first case, the irregularities bear a great pro- 
 portion to the whole ; in the second, they compensate for 
 one another ; and a rule emerges, from which the deviations 
 on opposite sides appear almost equal. 
 
 " This is true not only of natural events, but of those that 
 arise from the institutions of society, and the transactions of 
 men with one another Hence insurance against fire, and the 
 dangers of the sea. Nothing is less subject to calculation, 
 than the fate of a particular ship, or a particular house, 
 though under given circumstances. But let a vast nnmber of 
 ships, in these circumstances, or of houses be included, and 
 the chance of their perishing, to that of their being preserved, 
 is matter of calculation founded on experience, and reduced 
 to such certainty, that men daily stake their fortunes on the 
 accuracy of the results. 
 
 " This is true, even where chance might be supposed to 
 predominate the most ; and where the causes that produce 
 particular effects, are the most independent of one an- 
 other. 
 
 " Laplace observes, that at Paris, in ordinary times, the 
 number of letters returned to the Post Office, the persons to 
 whom they were directed not being foundj was nearly the 
 same from one year to another. We have heard the same 
 
 VOL. I. 2 L
 
 .514 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 remark stated of the Dead Letter Office, as it is called ia 
 Loudon. 
 
 " Such is the consequence of the multiplication of the 
 events least under the controul of faxt causes: And the 
 instances just given, are sufficient to illustrate the truth of the 
 general proposition; which Laplace has thus stated. 
 
 " The recunences of events that depend on chance, 
 approach to fixt ratios as the events become more numerous, 
 in such a manner, that the probability of the mean results not 
 differing from those ratios by any given quantity, may come 
 nearer to certainty than the smallest limit that can be as- 
 signed." 
 
 One of the first treatises on the subject of interest and 
 annuities, that requires to be mentioned, is Ward's " Clavis 
 Usurae," published in 1709, and which, on account of its 
 scarcity, is published as the last tract in the fifth volume of 
 the " Scriptores Logarithmici" of Mr. Baron Maseres, with 
 an appendix by the Baron himself, who considers Ward's 
 tract as the most complete treatise that has ever been published 
 on the subject. We may farther observe, that in this fifth 
 volume of the Scriptores Logarithmici, there are several other 
 pieces on the same subject, by De Moivre, Robertson, Dr. 
 Halley, and others. 
 
 Mr. Smart, in 1727, published some very valuable tables 
 on interest and annuities, which have been in use from that 
 time to the present, and which Mr. Francis Baily has inserted 
 in a work of his, shortly to be noticed. The late learned and 
 very excellent Dr. Price, besides some papers in the Trans- 
 actions of the Royal Society, published two volumes, though 
 at different times, entitled " Observations on Reversionary 
 Payments on schemes for providing annuities for widows, 
 and for persons in old age on the method of calculating the 
 values of assurances on lives, with Essays on different subjects, 
 on the Doctrine of Life Annuities, and Political Arithmetic, 
 Tables," See. Uc, Although this cannot be deemed an elemeu-
 
 ANNUITIES, INSURANCE, &C. 515 
 
 tary work, yet it contains a vast fund of valuable matter, 
 connected with all those subjects which have their foundation 
 on the Doctrine of Chances and Annuities. The tables are 
 numerous, and methods of forming are clearly given. 
 
 ^' Tlie doctrine of Annuities and Assurances on Lives and 
 survivorships," was explained by Mr. William Morgan, in a 
 8vo volume, published in 1779. Besides these, Mr. Dodson, 
 in his Mathematical Repository, Mr. Thomas Simpson, 
 M. De Moivre, and Baron Maseres, have all treated on the 
 subject; and it must be observed, that those who would 
 enter deeply into it, should be well acquainted with algebra 
 and fluxions. 
 
 Mr. Francis Baily, in 1809, published, as an introductory 
 book, " The Doctrine of Interest and Annuities analytically 
 explained," &c. The reasons which Mr. Baily assigns for the 
 publication of his work, which is a good and useful perform- 
 ance, may be applied generally as a recommendation of the 
 science itself to the attention of the mathematical student: 
 " At this time," he says, " a more than ordinary degree of 
 attention has been given to it, arising from the great variety 
 and extent of property, which is affected by circumstances, 
 involving the consideration of this subject. For, when we 
 consider the numerous cases of daily occurrence, in which the 
 question of interest is unavoidably concerned, both simple and 
 compound ; when we consider the great and extensive business 
 which is constantly transacting, in the purchase and sale of 
 annuities of various kinds, immediate and reversionary, tena- 
 porary and perpetual, increased no doubt by the numerous 
 offices which have sprung up within these few years, for that 
 very purpose ; -when we consider also the immense quantity 
 of lands which are held on leases, for different terms of years, 
 and which leases are continually required to be exchanged, 
 sold, or renewed ; but above all, when we consider its ap- 
 plication in regard to our finances, and the state of the Na 
 tioual Debt, with the help it affords us in pointing out tlje 
 
 2 L 2
 
 516 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 easiest and most effectual method of alleviating our present 
 incumbrances the subject assuredly acquires a degiee of im- 
 portance which it never before aspired to." 
 
 Mr. Daily's work treats of the doctrine of Interest, Annui- 
 ties, Reversions, and the Renewal of Leases, and of various 
 subjects of Finance. 
 
 Mr. Baily, in the year 1810, published a much larger and 
 more comprehensive work on this subject, to which, in 1813, 
 he added an appendix, making together two volumes, 8vo. 
 It is entitled " The doctrine of Life Annuities and Assurances, 
 analytically investigated and practically explained," &c. Of 
 this treatise, he says, it must be considered as a continuation 
 of the other work, and will, he believes, contain all that is 
 useful or interesting on the science, and he adds, that he has 
 taken care to comprehend in it '' such additional information 
 as a more improved analysis, and more recent discoveries in 
 the science have been able to afford." It contains the ele- 
 mentary principles of the Laws of Chance, with remarks on 
 the probabilities of life Methods for determining the value 
 of annuities on single or joint lives ; and on the longest of any 
 number of lives problems for the solution of cases of abso- 
 lute and contingent fleversioDary annuities -cases of annuities 
 depeiKling on survivorships, between two and three lives a 
 full explanation of the doctrine of Assurances, and other in- 
 teresting matter. 
 
 We have, by the same author, a smaller work, entitled 
 " Tables for the purchasing and renewing of leases, with 
 rules for determining the value of the reversion of estates," 
 &c. Sec.
 
 CHAP. XXXIII. 
 
 MATHEMATICS, 
 
 Continued. 
 
 Navigation What the art comprises History of Ancient writers on, 
 vii. Medina Cortes Frizins Nunez Coignet Norman Mercator 
 Wright Napier Norwood Bond. Modern writers recommended 
 Mackay Mendoza Robertson ; and Maskelyne. Mensuration His- 
 tory and Practice of Writers on Hawney Robertson Hutton; and 
 Bonnycastle. Surveying ^writers Leslie Hutton ^Crocker Davis 
 and others. Marine Swreying. Levelling, practice of. Dialling, 
 practice of, and writers on. 
 
 1 HE word Navigation is derived from two Latin words, 
 viz. navis, a ship, and ago, to manage, and the great end of 
 the art of Navigation, is to instruct the mariner how to con- 
 duct a ship through the wide and pathless ocean, to any given 
 country, by the safest and shortest way. This art comprises 
 the method of giving to the vessel the desired direction, by 
 means of the sails and a rudder, which has been denominated 
 seamanship, as well as the mode of ascertaining the relative 
 situation of the ship at any assigned time, and its future course. 
 For the performance of this, much previous instruction i^
 
 ^1$. MATHEMATICS. 
 
 necessary; sucb, for instance, as will give a perfect Inow-^ 
 ledge of the figure of the earth, with the various real or 
 imaginary lines upon it, so as to be able to ascertain the 
 distance and situation of places, with respect to one an- 
 other. The mariner must also know the use of the several 
 instruments employed in measuring the ship's way, as the log 
 and half-minute glass ; also of the quadrant, to take the altitude 
 of the sun and stars, the compass to represent the sensible 
 horizon, and the azimuth compass, to take the azimuth or 
 amplitude of the sun, in order to ascertain the variation of 
 the needle. He must be conversant with maps and sea-charts, 
 and should know the depths of water in particular places, the 
 times of the ebbing and flowing of tides upon the coasts that 
 he may have occasion to approach. These and other things 
 will, perhaps, be best learnt by practice, but an able sailor 
 should be well grounded in the elementary principles of ma- 
 thematics, which will teach him the reason and foundation of 
 bis wh6le art 
 
 The antiquity and general utility of the art of Navigation 
 will not be disputed : its very early history it is impossible to 
 ascertain, but it is known that the Pha^nicians were skilful 
 navigators, at a period when other nations had scarcely ven- 
 tured from the shore. From Phoenicia it may be traced to 
 Egypt and Greece, but the Carthaginians soon eclipsed the 
 inhabitants of those countries in nautical knowledge and ex- 
 perienee, and by this means acquired those vast resources that 
 enabled them so long to withstand the Roman power. It was 
 during the struggle between Carthage and Rome, that the 
 first traces of the art may be discovered in Italy. The subse- 
 quent destruction of Carthage consigned navigation, and with 
 it commerce, to the Romans : the latter was left to the ex- 
 ertions of the conquered provinces, and the former was chiefly 
 cultivated to aid their favourite views of universal dominion, 
 and upon the ruin of that empire, navigation shared the fate 
 of literature and the other arts. When Attila destroyed 
 Mantua, VeroDa, and other adjacent cities, such of tlie in-
 
 NAVIGATION. 519 
 
 habitants as escaped the bloody slaughter, fled (o the islands 
 off their coast, where ihey took up their residence, and in 
 process of time thfey founded Venice. Here navigation and 
 commerce revived, and from hence they passed successively 
 to Genoa, the Hans Towns, Portugal, Spain, England, .and 
 Holland. 
 
 Navigation was very imperfect till after the discovery of the 
 mariner's compass, which was known about the close of the 
 thirteenth century, after this the navigator launched boldly 
 into the ocean, having a guide to direct his operations, and 
 the means of returning to the place from which he set sail. 
 At this time, however, the kindred sciences, geometry, tri- 
 gonometry, and astronomy, which now constitute the ground- 
 work of navigation, were not sufficiently cultivated to afford 
 the assistance, which they have since been foufid calculated to 
 impart. The impulse being given, the human genius soon 
 saw in what way the mathematical scienccfs might be applied 
 to the art of navigation, this, with the invention of suitable in- 
 struments, enabled the navigator to proceed, not only to the 
 most remote places on the globe, but at length to circumna- 
 vigate the earth. 
 
 There are various methods of sailing described in books, of 
 which the most ancient is denominated plane sailing : this is 
 defined to be the art of navigating a ship upon principles 
 deduced from the supposition that the earth is an extended 
 plane, and is, in fact, no more than the application of Plane 
 Trigonometry to the solution of the several variations, or 
 cases, in which the hypothenuse is always the rhomb line, 
 that the ship sails upon. This method was soon found to be 
 inaccurate. 
 
 The mariner's compass was not applied to the art of naviga- 
 tion till about the year 1 420, and fifty years afterwards tables 
 of the sun's declination were calculated for the use of sailprs, 
 and the astrolabe was then used for taking observations at sea. 
 After this the use of the cross-stafi" was introduced among
 
 520 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 sailors, for observing the distance between the moon and any 
 given star, in order theuce to determine the longitude. At 
 this time navigation was very imperfect^ on account of the in< 
 accuracies of the plane chart, which must have greatly misled 
 the, mariner, especially in voyages far distant from the equa- 
 tor. About the year 1545 two Spanish treatises were publish- 
 ed on the subject, one by Pedro de Medina, the other by 
 Martin Cortes, the latter contained a complete system of the 
 art as far as it was then known. About the same time pro- 
 posals were made for fiuding the longitude by observations of 
 the moon. Previously to this, in 1530, Gemma Frisius ad- 
 vised the keeping of time, by means of small clocks or watches, 
 then, as he says, newly invented. This author contrived a 
 new sort of cross-staff, and an instrument called the nautical 
 quadrant. * 
 
 In 1537, Pedro Nunez, or Nonius, published a book in 
 the Portuguese language, in which he exposes the errors of 
 the plane chart, and gives the solution of many curious astro- 
 nomical problems ; among which is that for determining the 
 latitude from two observations of the sun's altitude, an inter- 
 mediate azimuth being given. In 1577, Mr. William Bourne 
 published a treatise, in which he advises, in sailing towards 
 the high latitudes, to keep the reckoning by the globe, as in 
 those cases the plane chart is most erroneous : he also advises 
 to keep an account of the observations, as useful for finding 
 the place of a ship, which advice was prosecuted at large, by 
 Simon Stevinus, in a treatise, published at Leyden in 1 599, 
 the substance of which was printed in the same year at Lon. 
 don, in English, by Mr. Edward Wright, entitled " The 
 Haven-finding Art." In this tract is described likewise the 
 way by which our sailors estimate the rate of a ship in her 
 course, by an instrument called the log, so named from the 
 piece of wood or log that floats in the water, while the time is 
 reckoned, during which tlie line that is fastened to it is running 
 out. The author of this conlj ivauce is not known, nor was it
 
 NAVIGATION. ' 521 
 
 noticed till 1607, in an East-Indian voyage, published by 
 Purchas, and from this time it became famous, and has been 
 noticed by almost all succeeding writers in navigation. 
 
 In 1581, Michael Coignet, a native of Antwerp, published 
 a treatise, in which he shewed, that as the rhombs are spirals^ 
 making endless revolutions about the poles, numerous errors 
 must arise from their being represented by straight lines on 
 sea-charts. Among other things he described the cross-staff, 
 with three transverse pieces, as it is at present made, which was 
 then in common use on ship-board. He^likewise gave an ac- 
 count of some instruments of his own invention, among which 
 was the nocturnal. 
 
 About this period Mr. Robert Norman discovered the dip- 
 ping needle, and he made considerable improvements in the 
 construction of compasses themselves. To this work of Nor- 
 man's is always prefixed a discourse on the variation of the 
 magnetic needle, by Mr. William Borrough, in which he 
 shews how to determine the variation in many different 
 ways. 
 
 Globes of an improved kind, of a much larger size than 
 those formerly used, were constructed, and many improve- 
 ments were made in other instruments, still the plane chart 
 was continued to be followed, though its errors were fre- 
 quently complained of. The methods of removing these was 
 pointed out by Gerard Mercator, who proposed to represent 
 the parallels of latitude and longitude by parallel straight 
 lines, but gradually to augment the number of the former as 
 they approached the pole. Thus the rhombs, which otherwise 
 ought to have been curves, were' now extended into straight lines, 
 and accordingly a straight line drawn between any two places 
 marked upon the chart, woRld make an angle with the meri- 
 dians, expressing the rhomb leading from one to the other. 
 In 1569> Mercator published an universal map, constructed 
 in this manner, but it does not appear that he was acquainted 
 with the principles on which it was founded, and iC, seems 
 ' generally agreed, that the true principles, on which the con-
 
 522 ' MATHEMATICS. 
 
 struction of what is still denominated Mercator's chart de- 
 pends, were first discovered by our countryman, Mr. Edward 
 Wright,* who published, about the year 16(X), his famous 
 treatise, entitled " The Correction of certain Errors in Na- 
 vigation," &c. in which he explained very fully the reason of 
 extending the length of the paiallels of latitude, and the uses 
 of the chart thus improved, to the purposes of navigation. 
 In tliis second edition, printed in I6IO, he proposed a method 
 for determining the nis^gnitude of the earth, and suggested the 
 idea of making our measures depend upon the length of a 
 degree on the earth's surface, and not upon the uncertain 
 lengtli of three barley-corns. He also gave a table of lati- 
 tudes for dividing the meridian into minutes, having, before 
 this time, been divided into every tenth minute only. Among 
 many other improvements, he contrived an amendment in the 
 tables of the declination and places of the sun and stars, from 
 his own observations, made with a six-feet instrument in the 
 years 1594, 5, G, and 7. The improvements of Mr. Wright 
 soon became known abroad, and a treatise, entitled " Hypom- 
 nemata Mathematica," was published by Simon Stevinus, for 
 the use of Prince Maurice, In that part relating to navigation, 
 the author having treated of sailing on a great circle, and 
 shewn how to draw the rhombs on a globe, mechanically, inserts 
 Mr. Wright's tables of latitudes and rhombs, in order to de- 
 scribe these lines with more accuracy, pretending even to have 
 discovered an error in Mr. Wright's table, which, however, 
 the author shewed arose from the slovenly manner of Stevinus's 
 mode of calculation. 
 
 About this period, Lord Napier published an account of 
 his logarithms, from which Mr. Edmund Gunter constructed 
 a table of logarithmic sines and* tangents to every minute of 
 the quadrant, >which he published in 1620. In this work, he 
 applied to the art of navigation, and other branches of mathe- 
 matics, his ruler, known by the name of Gimter's scale. He 
 
 See RobcrtOQ' Elements of Navigatioa.
 
 Navigation. 523 
 
 improved the sector for the same purposes, and shewed how 
 to take a back observation by the cross-staff ; he described 
 likewise another instrument of his own invention, called the 
 eross-bow, for taking the altitudes of the sun and stars. 
 Gunter's rule was projected into a circular arch by Mr. 
 Oughtred, in 1633, who explained its uses in a tract, entitled 
 " The Circles of Proportion." It has since been made in 
 the form of a sliding ruler. 
 
 Napier's tables were first applied to the different cases of 
 sailing, by Mr. Thomas Addison, in a work entitled " Arith- 
 metical Navigation," printed in \6'2,5. Mr. Henry Gellibrand 
 published, in l635, his treatise, entitled " A Discourse ma- 
 thematical, on the variation of the Magnetical Needle," in 
 which he pointed out his own discovery of the changes of the 
 variation. 
 
 In the year l635, Mr. Richard Norwood put into execu- 
 tion the method recommended by Wright, for measuring the 
 dimensions of the earth, and found a degree on the great 
 circle of the earth to contain 367,196 English feet, an ac- 
 count of which he published in his treatise, entitled " The 
 Seaman's Practice," published in 1637 ; in this tract, he 
 points out the uses to be made of the fact, in correcting the 
 errors committed in the division of the log-line ; describes his 
 own method of setting down, and perfecting a sea-reckoning, 
 by using a traverse tabl^ ; and how to rectify the course, by 
 considering the variation of the compass ; and how to discover 
 currents, and to make a proper allowance on their account. 
 
 About the year 1645, Mr. Bond published, in Norwood's 
 Epitome, an improvement on Wright's method, by a property 
 in his Meridian line, by which its divisions were more scien- 
 tifically assigned than by the author himself, which he after- 
 wards fully explained, in the third edition of Gunter's works, 
 printed in 1653. 
 
 After the true principles of the art had been settled by the^ 
 foregoing writers, the authors on navigation became so nu^^ 
 merous; that it would not at all agree with the limits of our
 
 524 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 work, to attempt an enumeration of tlieni. Navigation ha%, 
 however, been much indebted to Dr. Halley, who perfected 
 Wright's chart ; to Mr. Henry Briggs, who improved the lo- 
 garithms invented by Napier ; to Mr. Hadley, for the inven- 
 tion of the quadrant that bears his name ; and to. the late 
 Dr. Maskelyne, who was more than forty years Astronomer 
 Royal, for devising and establishing, under the Commissioners 
 of Longitude, the Nautical Almanac. Among the later dis- 
 coveries in this branch of practical science, that of finding the 
 longitude by lunar observations, and by time-keepers, is the 
 chief. Dr. Maskelyne put the first in practice, and the time- 
 keepers constructed by Mr. Harrison, were found to answer 
 so well, that he obtained the parliamentary reward. 
 
 Among the modern authors on navigation, we must mention 
 Dr. Andrew Mackay's " Theory and Practice of finding the 
 Longitude at Sea and Land," in two volumes ; this, with his 
 other works, particularly his " Complete Navigator," and 
 " Collection of Mathematical Tables," form, it is said, the 
 most correct and practical system of navigation and nautical 
 science hitherto published in this country. These, then, with 
 the " Tables for Navigation and Nautical Astronomy," by 
 Jos. de Mendoza ; Mr. John Robertson's " Elements of 
 Navigation," in two vols. 8vo; the " Nautical Almanac," 
 and the Tables requisite to be used with it, and the " Biitish 
 Mariner's Guide," may be considered as a complete library 
 for a young navigator. Among practical men, Hamilton 
 Moore's " New Practical Navigator," has long been very 
 popular, and is still much used. The sixteenth edition was 
 published in 1804. 
 
 MENSURATION. 
 
 Mensuration is the art of finding the dimensions and 
 contents of bodies, by means of others of the same kind ; 
 thus the length of bodies, or distances, is found by lines, as 
 yards, feet, inches, &c. ; surfaces by squares, as square inches, 
 feet, or yards; solids by cubes, as cubic inches, cubic feet,
 
 MENSURATION. S'iS 
 
 &c. The invention of this art cannot be traced to any parti- 
 cular person ; it has usually been given to the Egyptians, by 
 whom it was probably invented for the purpose of ascertain- 
 ing the magnitude and relative situation of their lands, after 
 the waters of the Nile had subsided. Euclid's Elements, it 
 has been thought, were originally directed to this object; and 
 many of the beautiful and elegant geometrical propositions in 
 that work, it is almost certain, arose out of the simple inves- 
 tigations directed solely to the theory and practical application 
 of mensuration. 
 
 Notwithstanding the perfection to which Euclid attained in 
 Geometry, the theory of Mensuration was not, in his time, 
 advanced beyond what related to right-lined figures, which 
 might be reduced to that of measuring a triangle ; for since all 
 right-lined figures may be divided into a number of triangles, it 
 was necessary only to know how to measure these, in order 
 to find the surface of any other figure whatever, which was 
 bounded by right lines. After Euclid, Archimedes took up 
 the theory of mensuration, and carried it to a great extent. 
 He first found the method of ascertaining the area of a curvi- 
 linear space, unless the Lunules of Hippocrates are excepted, 
 which, however, required no other aid than that contained in the 
 Elements of Euclid. Archimedes found that the area of a 
 parabola was two-thirds of its circumscribing rectangle. He 
 also determined the ratio of spheres, spheroids, &c. to their 
 circumscribing cylinders, and left behind him an attempt at 
 the quadrature of the circle. He investigated, and determined 
 to a considerable degree of accuracy, the approximate ratio 
 between the circumference and diameter of a circle. He 
 moreover determined the relation between the circle and 
 ellipse, as well as that of their similar parts, besides which, 
 he left a treatise on the Spiral. ' 
 
 Little more of importance was done to advance the science 
 of mensuration,' till the time of Cavelleri, an Italian mathe- 
 matician, who flourished in the 'seventeenth century. Before 
 his time, the regular figures circumscribed about the circle, as
 
 526 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 well as those inscribed in it, were always considered as being 
 limited, both as to the number of sides, and the length of 
 each. He was the person that introduced the idea of a circle 
 being a polygon of an infinite number of sides, each of which 
 was, of course, indefinitely small ; he also considered solids as 
 made up of an infinite number of sections iiidefmitely thin. 
 This was the foundation of the doctrine of indivisibles ^ which 
 was very general iij its application to a variety of difficult pro- 
 blems, and which was embraced by many eminent mathema- 
 ticians, such as Huygens, VVallis, and James Gregory. It 
 was, however, disapproved by other men, celebrated also for 
 great talents and deep geometrical learning, and particularly 
 by Sir Isaac Newton, who, among his numerous and brilliant 
 discoveries, produced his method of fluxions, the excellency 
 and generality of which, almost instantly superseded that of 
 indivisibles. Hopes were now revived of squaring the circle, 
 and the quadrature was attempted with great eagerness ; but, 
 after many inefl^ectual efforts, it was abandoned ; and mathe- 
 maticians began to content themselves with finding, by means 
 of fluxions, ihe most convenient series for approximating to- 
 wards the true length of this and other curves, and the theory 
 of mensuration began to make a rapid progress towards per- 
 fection. Many of the rules were published in the Transac- 
 tions of Learned Societies, or in separate and detached works, 
 tiJl, at length, Dr. Hutton' formed them into a complete work, 
 entitled " A Treatise on Mensuration, in which the several 
 rules are all demonstrated." Before this time, Hawney's 
 " Complete Measurer," and a treatise on the subject by Mr. 
 Robertson, were the only works that could be jeferred to, 
 either by the artizan or mathematician. Since Dr. Hutton's 
 publication, which was first given to the world in 4to, and 
 has since been printed in 8vo, Mr. Bonnycastle has published 
 an excellent little work on this subject, entitled " An Intro- 
 duction to Mensuration and Practical Geometry, with Notes, 
 containing the reason of every rule concisely and clearly de- 
 inomtrated." The author has very judiciously given jn thp
 
 SURVEYING. 527 
 
 text the rules in words at length, with examples to exercise 
 them; the remarks and demonstrations are confined to the 
 notes, and may be consulted or not, as shall be thought ne- 
 cessary ; but, to those who would wish to be acquainted with 
 the grounds and rationale of the operations which they per- 
 form, the demonstrations will be found extremely useful ; and 
 Mr. Bonnycastle has done all in his power to make them 
 easy. He has, he says, through the whole, " endeavoured to 
 consult the wants of the learner, more than those of the man 
 of science," arid hence his work may be strongly recom- 
 mended to those who would study the subject from the be- 
 ginning. 
 
 SURVEYING. 
 
 The art of surveying consists in determining the boundaries 
 of an extended surface. When applied to the measuring of 
 land, it comprises the three following parts, viz. taking the 
 dimensions of the given tract of land ; the delineating or lay- 
 ing down the same in a map or draught; and finding the su- 
 perficial content or area of the same. The first of these is 
 what is properly called surveying ; the second is called plot- 
 ting or protracting, or mapping ; and the third, casting up or 
 computing the contents. 
 
 Surveying, when performed in the completest manner, says 
 Mr. Professor Leslie, ^' ascertains the positions of all the 
 prominent objects within the scope of observation, measures 
 their mutual distances and relative heights, and consequently 
 defines the various contours which mark the surface. But 
 the land-surveyor seldom aims at such minute and scrupulous 
 accuracy ; his main object is, to trace expeditiously the chief 
 boundaries, and to compute the superficial contents of each 
 field. In hilly grounds, however, it is not the absolute sur- 
 face that is measured, but the diminished quantity that would 
 result, had the whole been reduced to a horizontal plane. This 
 distinction is founded on the obvious principle, that, since 
 plants shoot up vertically, the vegetable produce of a swelling
 
 528 \ MATHEMATICS. 
 
 eminence, can never exceed what would liave grown from its 
 levelled base. All the sloping distances, therefore, are re- 
 duced invariably to their horizontal lengths, before the calcu- 
 lation is b^un." 
 
 The instruments usually employed in surveying, are the 
 chain, the plain-table, the cross, and the theodolite. The 
 English chain is twenty-two yards in length, that is, the tenth 
 part of a furlong, or the eightieth part of a mile. The chain 
 is divided into a hundred links, each 7-92 inches in length. 
 An acre contains ten square chains, or 100,000 links. 
 
 When land is surveyed by means of the chain simply, the 
 several fields are divided into large triangles, of which the 
 sides are measured by the chain; and if the exterior boundary 
 happens to be irregular, the perpendicular distance or offset 
 is taken at each bending. The surface of all the triangles is 
 then computed by the elements of plane geometry, and the 
 exterior border of the polygon is considered as a collection of 
 trapezoids, .which are measured by multiplyuig the mean of 
 each pair of offsets or perpendiculars, into their base or inter- 
 mediate distance. In this method, the triangles should be 
 chosen as nearly equilateral as possible ; for, if they are very 
 oblique, small errors in the lengths of their sides will occasion 
 very large ones in the estimate of the surface. 
 
 The usual mode of surveying a large estate is, to measure 
 round it with the chain, and observe the angles at each turn 
 by means of the theodolite; but the observations must be 
 taken with great care. If the boundaries of the estate be to- 
 lerably regular, it may be considered as a polygon, of which 
 the angles, being necessarily very oblique, are apt, unless 
 much attention be exercised, to affect the accuracy of 
 the results. The best method of surveying is, undoubtedly, 
 to cover the ground with a series of connected triangles, 
 planting the theodolite at each angular point, and computing 
 from some base of considerable extent, which has been se- 
 lected and measured with as much precision as the nature of 
 the case will admit ^ for angles can be measured more accu-
 
 SURVEYING. 529 
 
 mtely than lines ; and hence it has been recommended, that 
 surveyors should generally employ theodolites of a good con- 
 struction, and trust as little as possible to the aid of the 
 chain. 
 
 In surveying, for sale or other purposes, large tracts of 
 land in rude and uncultivated countries, the contents are 
 usually estimated by the square mile, which includes six hun- 
 dred and forty acres : thus in the back settlements of North 
 America, the lands are divided and allotted merely by running 
 lines north and south, and iuteiseciing iliem by perpendiculars 
 at each interval of a mile. 
 
 We may farther observe, that where any degree of nicety is 
 required, as is the case in surveying estates of value, the 
 operator will have frequent occasion for calculation, and 
 Uierefore it is necessary that he should be familiar with the 
 four first rules of arithmetic, and the rule of proportion, as 
 well in fractions and decimals as in whole numbers ; he should 
 be conversant with the nature and practice of logarithms ; 
 and if he is acquainted with the elementary parts of algebra, he 
 will find the advantage of it. As he will have to investigate 
 and measure lines and angles, and to describe them on paper, 
 he should well understand and be quick in the application of 
 the principles of geometry and plane trigonometry. 
 
 Dr. Hutton's mensuration will be found to contain an out- 
 line of the theory and practice of the art of Surveying. 
 There are several other very respectable treatises on the sub- 
 ject, by Leadbeater, Wilson, and Stephenson : but the two 
 works with which we are best acquainted, is one by Mr. 
 Abraham Crocker, in which will be found several improve- 
 ments in the art ; and " A Complete Treatise on Land-Survey- 
 ing by tiie Chain, Cross, and Offset-staffs only. By William 
 Davis." This treatise is divided into three parts: (1.) It gives 
 an outline of Practical Geometry, at least such parts of it as 
 are requisite for Surveying ; and Plane Trigonometry, with its 
 application to measuring heights and distances. (2,) It goes 
 through the whole practice of Surveying by the different me- 
 
 VOL. I. 2 m
 
 530 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 thods ; and (3.) it points out the practical method of obtaining 
 the contents of Hay-ricks, Pits, Timber, and all kinds of 
 Artificers' works : likewise the method of levelling, conveying 
 water from one place to another, and of draining and flooding 
 land. 
 
 Another, but very different branch of this art is denominated 
 Maritime Surveying, which determines the positions of the 
 remarkable headlands, and other conspicuous objects that pre- 
 sent themselves along the coast, or its immediate neighbour- 
 hood. It likewise ascertains the situaiions of the various inlets, 
 rocks, shallows, and soundings, which occur in approaching the 
 shore. The method of performing this, given by Mr. Professor 
 Leslie, is as follows : " To survey a new or inaccessible coast, 
 two boats are moored at a proper interval, which is carefully 
 measured on the surface of the water ; and from each boat 
 the bearings of all the prominent points of land are taken by 
 means of an azimuth compass ; or the angles subtended by 
 these points and the other boat, are measured by a Hadley's 
 sextant. Having now on paper drawn the base to any scale, 
 straight lines radiating from each end at the observed angles, 
 will,^ by their intersections, give the positions of the several 
 points from which the coast may be sketched. But a chart 
 is more accurately constructed, by combining a survey made 
 on land, with observations taken on the water. A smooth 
 level piece of ground is chosen, on which a base of consider- 
 able length is measured out, and station staves * are fixed at 
 its extremities. If no such place can be found, the mutual 
 distance and position of two points conveniently situate for 
 planting the staves, though divided by a broken surface, are 
 determined from one or more triangles, which connect with 
 a shorter and temporary base assumed near the beach. A 
 boat then explores the othng j and at every rock, shallow, or 
 remarkable sounding, the bearings of the station staves are 
 noticed. These observations furnish so many triai^les, from 
 
 These staves will be described in the next article, IneUing.
 
 LEVELLING. 531 
 
 which the situation of the several points are easily ascertained. 
 When a correct map of the coast can be procured, the 
 labour of executing a maritime survey is materially shortened. 
 From each notable point of the surface of the water, the 
 bearings of. two known objects on the land are taken, or the 
 intermediate angles subtended by three such objects are ob- 
 served. To facilitate the last construction, an instrument called 
 the Station- Pointer has been invented, consisting of three 
 brass rulers, which open and may be set at the given angles." 
 
 LEVELLING. 
 
 Levelling is the art of finding a line parallel to the hori- 
 zon at one or more stations, to determine the height or depth 
 of one place with respect to another, for the purposes of 
 laying out grounds, draining morasses, conducting water, &c. 
 Two or more places are on a true level when they are equally 
 distant from the centre of the earth. Of course one place is 
 higher than another, or out of the level with it, when it is farther 
 from the centre of the earth ; and a line equally distant from 
 that centre, in all its points, is called the true level. Hence, 
 since the earth is spherical, that line must be a curve, and 
 make a part of the earth's circumference, or at least one that 
 is parallel, or concentrical to it. 
 
 ' The practice of levelling therefore consists : 1 . In finding 
 and marking two or more points that shall be in the circum- 
 ference of a circle, whose centre, and that of the earth, shall 
 coincide ; and 2. In comparing the points thus found with 
 other points, to ascertain the difference in their distances 
 from the earth's centre. 
 
 With respect to the theory of levelling, the following obser- 
 vations may be set down : A plumb line, hanging freely in the 
 air, points directly towards the centre of the earth ; and a line 
 drawn at right lines, crossing the direction of the plumb-line, 
 and touching the earth's surface, is a true level only in that 
 particular spot ; but if this line, which crosses the plumb, be 
 
 2 M G
 
 532 MATIIF.MATICS. 
 
 continued for any considerable distance, it will rise above the 
 earth's surface ; and the apparent level will be above the true 
 one, because the earth is spherical, and this rising will be as 
 the square of the distance to which the said right line is pro- 
 duced, that is, as much as it is raised above the earth's surface 
 at one mile's distance, it will rise four times as much at the 
 distance of two miles, nine times at the distance of three 
 miles, and so on. This circumstance is, as we have already 
 observed, owing to the globular figure of thg earth, and the 
 rise is the JifFerence between the true and apparent levels, 
 the real curve of the earth being the true level, and the 
 tangent to it, tlie appareirt level. It appears tlrat the less 
 distance we take between any two stations, the truer will be 
 the operations in levelling; and as soon as the difference 
 between the true and apparent levels becomes perceptible, 
 it is necessary to make an allowance for it, even if the dis- 
 tance between two stations does not exceed a few chains in 
 length. 
 
 Levelling may be performed very expeditiously by the 
 assistance of a large theodolite, capable of measuring with 
 precision the vertical angle subtended by a remote object ; 
 the distance being known or calculated, and allowance made 
 for the effect of the earth's convexity, and the influence of 
 refraction. But the better method is to employ a spirit-level ^ 
 accompanied by a pair of square staves, each of which is 
 composed of two parts that slide out into a rod of ten feet in 
 length, every foot being divided centesimally. A vane slide* 
 up and down upon each set of these staves, which, by brass 
 springs, will stand at any given height. These vanes are about 
 ten inches long, and four broad : the breadth is first divided 
 into three -wjual parts, the two extremes painted white, the 
 middle space divided again into tlucc equal parts, which are 
 less; the middle one of tlicin is also [>ainte(I white, and the 
 two other parts black ; and thus they are suited to all com- 
 mon distances. These vanes have each a brass wire across -a
 
 LEVELLING. 533 
 
 small square hole in thf centre, which serves to point out the 
 height correctly, by coinciding with the horizontal wire of the 
 telescope of the level. 
 
 Levelling is distinguished into two kinds, the simple and 
 the compound ; the former, which rarely admits of applica- 
 tion, assigns the difference of altitude by a single observation ; 
 but the latter discovers it by means of a series of observations 
 carried along an irregular surface, the aggregate of the several 
 descents being deducted from that of the ascents. The staves 
 are therefore placed successively along the line of survey, at 
 propef intervals, according to the nature of the ground, and not 
 exceeding three or four hundred yards, the levelling instru- 
 ment being always^ planted nearly in the middle between them, 
 and directed backwards to the first staff, and then forwards to 
 the second. The difference' between the heights intercepted 
 by the back and the fore observation, must evidently give at 
 each station the quantity of ascent or descent; and the error 
 occasioned by the curvature of the globe mfty, in very short 
 distances be overlooked, as it will not amount at each station 
 to the hundredth part of a foot. The final result of a series 
 of operations, or the differences of altitude between the ex- 
 treme stations, is discovered by taking the measures of the 
 back and fore observations collectively, and the excess of the 
 latter above the former, indicates the entire quantity of 
 descent. 
 
 The following observations wJH, render the whole subject 
 easy and clear to any comprehension. 
 
 To find the distance between (he apparent and true level at 
 the distance of a mile. In the right-angled triangle ABC, 
 fig, 7, the side A C, the semi-diameter of the earth, is given, 
 suppose 3,982 miles, and the side AB=l milej to find the 
 hypothenuse C B. .t-""'^ 
 
 CA2=158o6324 
 AB2- 1 
 
 CA^ + A B^^: 15856325= CB2 
 
 And / 158563'25=3982.0001253=CB.
 
 534 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 Consequently the apparent level at the distance of one mile 
 from the observer's station is higher than the true level by 
 EB=:CB CE = .OOOI25 of a mile=S inches nearly. 
 
 The same tiling may be done another way. By Eucl. III. 
 36. EC + EBxEB=AB2; consequently, 2 EC + EB: 
 A B : : A B : : E,B. But E B in the first term is so small 
 in comparison of E C, that it may be neglected, therefore it 
 
 willbe2EC:AB:: AB:EB, and B=4^'=4S^ 
 
 ' 2EC 2EC 
 
 nearly ; that is, the ditterence between ihc true and apparent 
 
 level is equal to the square of the distance between the places, 
 
 divided by the diameter of the earth ; and since the diameter 
 
 of the earth is a given quantity, it is always proportional to 
 
 the square of the distance. 
 
 The diameter of the earth = 79t>4 miles, if A E be equal 
 
 A E ^ 
 
 1 mile as before, then the difference of levels will be - - 
 
 ' 2EE 
 
 - >. -=: 8 inches nearly. If AE=:2 miles, then the dif 
 
 2' 
 
 = 7964 
 
 ference of levels will be z^gr '-(w^u, ^^ inches, &c. 
 
 Hence, proportioning the excesses in altitude according to 
 the squares of the distances, the following Table is obtained, 
 shewing the height of the apparent, above the true level, fof 
 every 100 yards of distance on the one side, and for each mile 
 on the other. 
 
 TABLE I. 
 
 Dist. 
 
 or 
 
 AE. 
 
 Yards. 
 
 100 
 
 200 
 
 1000 
 
 Diff. of 
 L^or 
 
 Inches. Miles 
 
 Dist. 
 
 or 
 
 AE. 
 
 0.026 
 0.103 
 2..'>7 1 
 
 Diff. of 
 
 Level, or> 
 
 E R. I 
 
 Feet. In. 
 
 2 
 8 
 2 8 
 
 Dist. 
 
 or 
 AE. 
 
 Miles. 
 
 4 
 6 
 8 
 
 Diff. of 
 
 Level, or 
 
 B. 
 
 Feet. In. 
 
 10 7 
 23 11 
 42 6 
 
 Dist. Dift". of 
 or Level, or 
 AE. EB 
 
 Miles. 
 
 10 
 
 j 12 
 i 14 
 
 Feet. In. 
 66 4 
 
 97 7 
 130 1
 
 LEVELLING. 535 
 
 As, however, levelling is usually performed by measures 
 consisting of chains instead of yards, the following Table is 
 calculated, shewing the difference of a true and apparent level, 
 in distances of from 5 to 100 chains. 
 
 TABLE n. 
 
 Dist. 
 
 Diff. lev. 
 
 i>t. 
 
 Difl. lev. 
 
 Dist. 
 
 Diff. lev. 
 
 Dist. 
 
 Diff. lev. 
 
 in 
 
 
 in 
 
 
 m 
 
 
 in 
 
 
 chains. 
 
 sub. in. 
 
 chains. 
 
 sub. in. 
 
 chains. 
 
 sub. in. 
 
 chains. 
 
 sub. in. 
 
 5 
 
 0.03 
 
 30 
 
 1.12 
 
 55 
 
 3.78 
 
 80 
 
 8.00 
 
 10 
 
 0.12 
 
 55 
 
 1.53 
 
 60 
 
 4.50 
 
 85 
 
 9.03 
 
 15 
 
 0.28 
 
 40 
 
 2.00 
 
 65 
 
 5.31 
 
 90 
 
 10.12 
 
 20 
 
 O.oO 
 
 45 
 
 2.53 
 
 70 
 
 6.12 
 
 95 
 
 J 1.28 
 
 25 
 
 0.78 
 
 50 
 
 3.12 
 
 75 
 
 7.03 
 
 100 
 
 12.50 
 
 Example. It is required to find if water can be brought 
 from a spring on the side of a hill at R, fig. 8, to the house 
 S, by means of pipes laid under ground. 
 
 Fix the theodolite x at any convenient distance from the spring, 
 suppose five chains, then enter on a paper, the difference 
 between the true and apparent level from the table No. II, 
 0.03 inches : let an assistant place a staff at a, the spring, and 
 another assistant, a staff at b towards S : the spirit level is to 
 be directed to a, and the assistant there is to place the vane 
 so as, when the staff is held perpendicularly, the hair in the 
 telescope may cut the middle of the vane, suppose at 6.5 inches, 
 which is to be entered in the paper, under the back-sights : let 
 the other assistant now take tlie fore-sight at the staff b, which 
 suppose to be 3 feet, 6.4 inches, which is to be entered under 
 the fore-sights : then take the measure of the distance of the 
 instrument to the staff b, suppose 15 chains, which enter in 
 column Dki. and ih the next column against it; is the dif^
 
 536 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 ference between the tnie and apparent level taken from the 
 table, or 0.28 inches. Measure next to the second station 
 suppose 10 chains, which cuter, and against it write the 
 difference between the true and apparent level 0. 1 2 ; take the 
 back-sight to the staff b, viz. 1 foot, 2.7 inches, which is to 
 be entered as before, then take the fore-sight to the staff c, and 
 so on, whatever be the number of stations. When the obser- 
 vation is carried to S, and the level finished, the columns in 
 the paper, or field-book, are to be added up ; and from the 
 sum of the heights, under the back-sights, take the sum of 
 the differences of the level under the same, the remainder will 
 be the correct sum of the heights of the vane : the same is to 
 be done under the fore-sights, and the difference of these 
 corrected heights gives the diflference of the true level ; and 
 the sum of the distances under both distances will be the 
 whole distance from R to S, thus : 
 
 The first Assistant's Notes, orThe second Assistant's Notes,' 
 
 Sta- 
 tiot. 
 
 .1 
 
 2 
 3 
 
 Back-Sights. 
 
 Height V. 
 Feet. Id. 
 
 6.5 
 2.7 
 0.8 
 
 3 10.00 
 0.43 
 
 957 
 
 Dist. in 
 chains 
 
 5 
 10 
 15 
 
 30 
 
 Diff. lev 
 inches. 
 
 0.03 
 0.12 
 0.28 
 
 0.43 
 
 or Fore-Sights. 
 
 Sta- 
 tion. 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 3 
 
 Height V. 
 Feet. In. 
 
 3 6.4 
 2 6.9 
 
 4 6.5 
 
 7.8 
 9.57 
 
 6 8.23 
 
 Dbt. in 
 cliains 
 
 15 
 10 
 13 
 
 38 
 30 
 
 6S 
 
 Diff. lev. 
 iuches. 
 
 0.28 
 0.12 
 0.12 
 
 0.52 
 
 V 
 
 Here it is evident, that the sum of tn^. heights of the vanes 
 in the fore- sights exceeds those of the back-sights, by rather 
 more than 6 feet 8 inches, and so much is S below the tnie 
 level of R, and the whole distance fro'm R to S being 68
 
 LEVELLING. 53? 
 
 chains, water may be readily brought from the spring on the 
 hill, to the house in the valley. 
 
 The table, No. I, will answer several useful purposes, as 
 follow, 
 
 1. To find the height of the apparent level above the true, 
 at any distance. If the given distance be contained in the 
 table, the correction of level is found on the same line with 
 it : thus at the distance of 1000 yards, the correction is 2.57, 
 or somewhat more than Q.\ inches^ but at the distance of 10 
 miles, it is 66 feet 4 ineh*- If the caa\.t distance be not 
 found ill the table, multiply the square of the distance in 
 yards by 2.57, and divide by KXXyj^, or cut off six places on 
 the right hand for decimak : the rest are inches ; or multiply 
 the square of the distance in miles by 66.4, and divide by 
 102=100. 
 
 2. To find the extent of the visible horizon, or how far 
 can be seen from any given height on a horizontal plane 
 at sea, as on the frozen ocean. Suppose the eye of an ob- 
 server be at the height of 6 feet above the surface of the 
 earth, he will see 3 miles every way. Hence it is plain, that a 
 man thus situated, will be able to see another person of the 
 same height at the distance of 6 miles. If the eye be 
 situated on a ship's mast 130 feet high, it will see an extent 
 of 14 miles every way. If a light house be 130 feet above 
 the level of the sea, it will be visible to an eye on the surface 
 at the distance of 14 miles ; but if the observer mount 
 the mast 97 feet, then the distance is increased 12 miles, 
 consequently the light-house will be visible at 26 miles 
 distant. 
 
 3. Suppose a spring be on one side of a hill, and a house 
 on an opposite hill, with a valley between them : and that the 
 spring seen froia tlip. house apppa^* ^y a levelling instrument 
 to be on a level with the foundation of the house, which is at 
 a mile distance from it : then is the spring 8 inches above the 
 true level of the house ; and this difference would be barely 
 sufficient for the water to be brought in pif^s from the
 
 55S MATHEMATICS. 
 
 spring to the house, the pipes being laid all the way in the 
 ground. 
 
 4. If the height or distance exceed the limits of the table : 
 then if the distance be given, divide it by some aliquot part 
 till the quotient come within the distances in the table, and 
 take out the height answering to the quotient, and multiply it 
 by the square of the divisor for the height required. So if 
 
 40 
 the top of a hill be seen %t 40 miles distance, then = 10, 
 
 ..-r^ 4 
 
 to %vhich 66} answers in the table : now 66^ x 4, o 6&i x 16, 
 gives 106 1^ feet for the height of the hill. 
 
 When tlie height is given, divide it by one of these square 
 numbers, 4, 9, 16, 25, 36, &c. till the quotient come 
 within the limits of the table, and multiply the quotient by the 
 square root of the divisor, that is, by 2, 3, 4, o, 6, &c. for 
 the distance sought. Thus when the top of Teneriffe, said to 
 be 15840 feet high, just comes into view at sea, divide 
 15840 by 225, or the square of 15, and the quotient is about 
 70 feet, to which 102^ miles will answer : and lOf x 15 154f^ 
 miles for the distance of the mountain from the place of 
 observation. 
 
 DIALLING. 
 
 Dialling is the art of drawing dials on the surface of any 
 given body, whether plane or curved : it is founded on the 
 apparent motions of the heavenly bodies, or rather on the real 
 diurnal motion of the earth. 
 
 A dial is a plane, upon which lines are described in such a 
 manner, that the shadow of a wire, or of the upper edge of a 
 plate, called a btile, or gnomon, erected perpendicularly on the 
 plane of thi dial, may shew the time of the day. 
 
 The universaV principle on uliIcU dialling depends, is this : 
 if the whole earth a P c p, fig. 9, were transparent and 
 hollow, like a sphere of glass, and had its equator divided in 
 twenty-four parts by so many meridian semicircles, a, b, c, d, 
 &c. J one 6f which is the geographical meridian of any given
 
 DIALLING. 559 
 
 place, as London, which may be supposed to be at the point 
 a; and if the hours of XII. Mere marked at the equator, both 
 upon that meridian and the opposite one, and all the rest of 
 the hours in order on the other meridians, tliose meridians 
 wouUi be hour-*circIes answering to the latitude of London : 
 then if this glass sphere bad an opaque axis P E ^j terminating 
 in the poles P and p, the shadow of the axis would fall upon 
 every particular meridian and hour, when the sun came to tlie 
 plane of the opposite meridian ; and would consequently shew 
 the time at London, a<l at all uilier places on the meridian of 
 London. 
 
 If this sphere were cut through the middle by the plane 
 ABCD, in the rational horizon of London, one half of the 
 axis EP would be above the plane, and the other half below 
 it ; and if straight lines were drawn from the centre of the 
 plane, to tliose points where the eircumference is cut by the 
 hour circles of the sphere, those lines would be hour lines of 
 a horizontal dial for London ; for the shadow of the axis would 
 fall upon each particular hour-line of the dial, when it fell 
 upon the like hour circle of the sphere. 
 
 If the plane, which cuts the sphere, be upright at AFGG, 
 fig. 10, touching the given place at F, and directly facing the 
 meridian of London, it will become the plane of an erect south 
 dial ; and if right lines be drawn from its centre E, to those 
 points of its circumference where the hour-circles of the sphere 
 cut it, these will be the hour-lines of a vertical or direct south 
 dial for London, to which the hours are to be set, as in the 
 figure ; and the lower half Ep of the axis will cast a shadow 
 on the hour of the day in this dial, at the same time that it 
 would fall upon the like hour-circle of the sphere, if the dial 
 plane were not in the way. 
 
 Without enicrJng into the miiiwii*^f incliniug and reclining 
 dials, &c., we may observe generally, that the plane of every 
 dial represents the plane of some great circle upon the earth, 
 and the gnomon the earth's axis, whether it be a small wire, 
 as in the figure just referred to, or the edge of a thin plate, as 
 in common horizontal dials.
 
 540 MATHEMATICS. 
 
 Dialling may be performed by a common globe, which is t 
 be elevated to the latitude of the given place, and turned about 
 until any one of the twenty-four meridians cuts the horizon in 
 the north point, where the hour of XII is supposed to be 
 marked, the rest of the meridians will cut the horizon at the 
 respective distances of all the other hours from XII. Then 
 if these points of distance be marked on the horizon, and the 
 globe be taken out of the horizon, and a flat surface be put 
 into its place, even with the surface of the horizon, and if 
 straight li" *c Urawu nrom Uic bnr f the board to those 
 points of distance on the horizon whiph were cut by the iwe- 
 ty-four meridian semicircles, these lines will be tlie hour-lines 
 of a horizontal dial for that particular latitude, the edge of 
 whose gnomon must be in the very same situation that the 
 axis of the globe was, before it was taken out of the horizon : 
 that is,, the gnomon must make an angle with the plane of the 
 dial, equal to the latitude of the place for which the dial is 
 made. 
 
 For the practice of dialling either with the globe, or by the 
 principles of spherics, we must refer the reader to the works 
 now to be mentioned. Of these, for persons not conversant 
 in mathematics, the second volume of Brewster's edition of 
 Ferguson's Lectures will be reckoned quite sufficient. Ley- 
 bourn's Diallii^ Bion in his Use of Mathematical Instruments 
 the works of Leadbeater and Emerson may be consulted 
 with advantage. Mr. W. Jones has a work on Instrumental 
 Dialling, and Dr. Horsley has treated on the subject in his 
 mathematical tracts. Several ingenious constructions of dials 
 are to be found in Montucla's Recreations, as well as in 
 Ferguson's Lectures. 
 
 END OF VUL,. I. 
 
 J. >rCreery, Printer, 
 Bbek-Uone-Comrt, Ftet-Strect, Londou.
 
 FoU. 
 
 MATHEMATrcSc 
 
 Lowr^ sculp.
 
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