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THE CABINET
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London Pub by LM. Gowan, G. Windmill St.
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QUINADOPUNA
THE
CABINET OF ARTS,
General Instructor
•
OR
IN
ARTS, SCIENCE, TRADE, PRACTICAL MACHINERY,
THE
MEANS OF PRESERVING HUMAN LIFE,
of
AND
POLITICAL ECONOMY,
EMBRACING
A Variety of Important Subjects.
By HEWSON CLARKE, Esq.
OF EMMANUEL COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE;
AND
JOHN DOUGALL, A. M.
EMBELLISHED WITH appropriaTE ENGRAVINGS,
LONDON:
PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY J. M'GOWAN,
GREAT WINDMILL STREET, HAYMARKET.
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CONTENTS.
CHAP. I.-NATURAL PHILOSOPHY;
Section I.-Mechanic Powers,
Section II.-Hydrostatics,
Hydraulics,
Varnishes,
Cements,
CHAP. X.-Tanning,
CHAP. XI.-Japanning,
CHAP. XII.-Lacquering,
CHAP. XIII.-Gilding,
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Silvering,
Tinning,
Bronzing-Soldering,
CHAP. XIV.-Moulding and Casting,
CHAP. XV. Calico Printing,
CHAP. XVI.-Bleaching,
CHAP. XVII.--Ink-Making,
CHAP. XVIII.
Removing Stains,
·
Section III.-Pneumatics,
Section IV.-Acoustics,
Section V.-Optics
Section VI.-Electricity,
Section VII.-Magnetism,
CHAP. II.-Chemistry,
CHAP. III.-Agriculture,
GHAP. IV.-Architecture,
CHAP. V.-Of Painting,
CHAP. VI.—Of Engraving; and the Use of the Dry Needle,
CHAP. VII.-Letter-Press Printing,
CHAP. VIII.-Galvanism,
CHAP. IX.--Dyeing,
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CHAP. XXIII.—Brewing and Distilling,
CHAP. XXIV.-Miscellaneous,
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CHAP. XIX.--Staining Wood,
CHAP. XX.-Pyrotechny,
CHAP. XXI.—Aerostation, and Air Balloons,
CHAP. XXII.--Inventions for the Preservation of Human Life,
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310
420
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462
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492
505
514
520
526
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536
537
538
542
546
559
562
566
568
625
661
706
770
817
CHAP. XXV.—The Art of Farriery,
CHAP. XXVI.-Political Economy, or the Nature and Causes of
the Wealth and Poverty of Nations,
830
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DIRECTIONS TO THE BINDER.
THE FRONTISPIECE TO FACE THE TITLE.
PLATE 2d.
PLATE 3d. of MISCELLANIES.
PLATE 4th. of MISCELLANIES.
THE IONIC and CORINTHIAN ORDERS, &c.
of ARCHITECTURE.
THE TEMPLE of FORTUNE at ROME.
DRAWING of MAPS.
PLATE of GALVINISM.
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THE
C
CABINET OF ARTS.
CHAP. I.
NATURAL PHILOSOPHY.
OF NATURAL KNOWLEDGE.
WHEN we consider the immense variety of objects which present
themselves to the eye, it must appear, at first sight, impossible
to acquire even a general knowledge of their qualities and properties.
The longest life, with the most vigorous mind, and the most persevering
industry, would be wholly unequal to the task of examining even the
individual objects of all kinds with which a single man is surrounded.
Hence it arises that, by a natural law of the human mind, we are always
attempting to arrange the objects of our inquiries into certain classes,
according to certain common properties which they seem to possess.
These are divided into other classes, with additional marks of distinc--
tion; and these are again subdivided into other sets, until we at last
come down to the individual object. By this process the mind is
assisted in its inquiries, and the communication of knowledge is rendered
easy and useful. The study of all the objects of our senses may be
divided into two branches, namely, Natural History, and Natural
Philosophy. The first of these branches is occupied in arranging
objects, and describing them in such a way that they may be easily and
accurately distinguished from one another. It may be considered as a
descriptive view of the material world, in a state of rest or inactivity,
without taking into account the motions or actions of bodies upon one
another. This is the first step in the progress of knowledge, and it
constitutes Natural History. But the operations of nature are seldom
at rest: change succeeds change; new combinations of objects are
formed, and new productions make their appearance. The primary
planets revolve round the sun as their centre; the secondary planets or
moons perform similar revolutions found their primaries. The air of
No 1.
B
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2
NATURAL PHILOSOPHY.
the atmosphere presses on the surface of the earth, with a certain force.
A stone when unsupported falls to the ground, in a line pointed towards
the centre of the globe. Water deprived of a certain portion of its heat
becomes solid in the form of ice: but if combined with a greater por-
tion of heat than what is necessary to keep it fluid, water is converted
into vapour, ascends into the atmosphere, is there again robbed of its
extra heat, and returns to the earth in the form of rain; or if still more
heat be taken away, it appears as snow or hail. A seed is placed in
the ground, and if heat moisture and air be applied, it shoots and
springs up with the addition of light, if the operation be continued, it
becomes a new plant, puts forth leaves and flowers, and produces secds
similar to that first placed in the ground. Now to determine what are
these changes, to observe the laws by which such changes are effected,
and to ascertain the measure and quantity of the effect produced, all
this belongs to that branch of knowledge which is included under the
general term Natural Philosophy, also called Physics. But of these
changes and motions some are obvious to our senses, others entirely
escape our observation. We see a stone fall to the earth, and expe-
rience tells us that it falls with a force proportioned to its weight, and
the height from which it fell. The change or motion which takes place,
when water puts on a solid form, when a fluid undergoes the process of
fermentation, or when a combustible body is burnt, all this is totally
imperceptible by our senses. These changes and motions are too mi-
nute to be subject to our observation. The effect is produced before us,
but of the process by which it is produced we are wholly ignorant.
Thus Natural Philosophy is divided into two branches: the objects of
the first are the sensible changes or motions observable in the material
world, and the consideration of these objects is, strictly and properly
speaking, Natural Philosophy or Physics; the second branch, which
is employed in discovering the laws and ascertaining the effects of the
insensible changes or motions of bodies, constitutes the science of
Chemistry.

SECT. I.
MECHANIC POWERS.
The science of Natural Philosophy may be classed under seven ge-
neral heads, according to the nature of the subjects; proceeding from
the grosser to the more refined substances falling under the cognisance
of our senses. 1. Mechanics, from mèchane, art, contrivance, ingenuity;
meanings here confined to the employment of solid bodies in mutual
action, for the uses of mankind: the word machine, borrowed from the
• Physics is a term formed from the Greek word Physis signifying nature in general: hence
physics express the study of all natural objects, and a physician is a person who has made a
proficiency in that study. In this comprehensive sense the term is employed in all countries
whare the Greek name is retained, excepting among ourselves, where, by a very improper restric-
tion of its meaning, a physician significs only a person instructed and employed in one branch
(certaiuly of the highest importance) of natural knowledg", that of the nature, cause and care of
the diseases of the human body. Inattention to this distinction occasions much confusion in
some modern works, translated from the languages of southern Europe, the French, the Spanish,
and the Italian, in which the several names form from physis signify not a curer of diseress,
but a natural philosopher.
de
MECHANICS.
3
French, expresses equally the origin and the import of the term.
2. Hydrostatics, from hydor water and statizein to weigh. 3. Pneu-
matics, from pneuma spirit, breath, air, wind. 4. Acoustics, from acouein,
to hear. 5. Optics, from optesthai, to see. 6. Electricity, from electron,
amber. 7. Magnetism, from magnes, the lode-stone. To the Greek
language we are indebted for all these terms, and for by far the greater
number of all others, employed not only in ancient but in modern
science.
1
•
OF MATTER AND ITS PROPERTIES.
Whatever acts upon our senses, either directly or by its perceptible
effects, is termed matter. All sorts of matter possess these characteris-
tic properties, viz. solidity or impenetrability, divisibility, and mobility:
Certain kinds of bodies possess other qualities which are not common
to all. By solidity in the present case we do not mean a state opposite
to fluidity, but that property which all bodies possess, of not permitting
any other substance to occupy the same place with them, at the same
time. If a piece of stone or wood, &c. occupy a certain space, before
you can put another in the same space, the stone or wood must be re-
moved. Even fluids although they readily give way to pressure, when
they have room to move about, yet if confined within certain bounds,
will resist the entrance of another body, just as a solid would do. If
a strong pipe be partly filled with water, and a wooden rod exactly
fitting the pipe be introduced into it; when it touches the water it will
stop, and no pressure, however strong, will make it occupy any part of
the space filled by the water. Should the same experiment be made
with a pipe empty as it is called, that is with nothing in it but com-
mon air, the rod may be pushed down a considerable way, but cannot
be made to touch the bottom of the pipe; for although the air may be
compressed into a very small space, yet when that space is filled no
power can force the rod any lower down.
Solidity or impenetrability signifies, in common language, the pro-
perty of bodies by which they resist separation into parts. Divisibility
is that quality by which matter is capable of separation into parts that
may be removed from one another. This divisibility is manifest in
bodies of a sensible bulk; for they may be divided into halves, quarters,
eighths, sixteenths, &c. without end, as however minute any part may
be, still that part may be supposed to be again divided into halves,
quarters, &c. The actual division of matter can be carried on to an amaz-
ing extent. A single grain weight of gold is hammered out by the gold-
beaters, until it be so thin and broad as to cover 50 square inches.
Each square inch may be cut into 200 slips, and each slip into 200 parts,
each of which will still be visible to the naked eye: consequently a
square inch contains 40,000 visible parts,, which multiplied by 50 the
number of inches into which the grain of gold is hammered, will give
two millions of parts, which may be seen by the eye alone. But an
instance still more striking is found in the manufacture of gold-lace.
In this operation a bar of silver is gilded and then drawn out into wire,
by passing it successively through holes of different sizes in steel plates.
By these means the surface of gilded wire is prodigiously augmented,
notwithstanding which the gold preserves an entire uniform appearance,
without void spaces even when examined with magnifying glasses.
C
LATEST NE
4
MECHANICS.
It has been reckoned that sixteen ounces of gold, which in the form of
a cube or die, would not measure one inch and a quarter a side, would
completely gild a quantity of silver wire, sufficient to go round the globe
of the earth, or about twenty-five thousand English miles. Mobility
is that property by which matter is capable of being taken from one
part of space and transported to another. Space is an abstract term to
express the place occupied by material bodies, which, in proportion to
the greater or less space they fill, are said to be more or less extended.
Matter possesses another property called inertia, that is inertness, or in-
activity, by which it would always continue in the state in which it is
placed, whether of motion or of rest, unless prevented by some exter-
nal force. That matter at rest can begin to move of itself, no one will
suppose: but it is not so evident that, when once set in motion, it
would continue that motion for ever, if not prevented. It is natural to
imagine that all material bodies have a tendency to pass from a state of
motion to a state of rest, because we see all motions upon this earth
gradually decay, and at last wholly cease. This, however, is occasioned
by the interruption given to the motion by the resistance of the air,
the friction of one body against another, &c. for if these are diminish-
ed the motion will continue the longer, and if they were entirely re-
moved it would continue for ever.
+
Motion. Philosophers are induced at times to give explanations of
terms already so simple and so well understood as to be incapable of
any farther elucidation. This is the case with the term motion, which
has been defined to be a change of place, or the act by which a body
is made to occupy different parts of space, at different successive
points of time. In bodies around us we are sensible of two kinds of
motion, the one when an entire body is moved from one place to
another, as when a stone falls from the hand to the ground, when a bird
flies across the air, when a ship sails upon the ocean. Another kind of
motion, not less real, although not so evident to our senses, is that of
the parts of bodies among themselves. By this imperceptible motion
plants and animals increase in stature, and the various changes of natural
substances are produced. The gradual changes occurring in all bodies,
in the course of time, show that the parts are continually acting upon
one another; and perhaps in even the most solid bodies no particles are
absolutely at rest, but all in perpetual action and motion. Motion can
be communicated by one body to another: instances of this are per-
petually passing before our eyes, and yet how this is done we are still
totally ignorant; the fact is, however, so certain, that upon it the whole
science of mechanics is founded. In considering motion several cir-
cumstances must be attended to. 1. The force producing the motion:
2. The quantity of matter in the moving body: 3. The velocity and
direction of the motion: 4. The space moved over by the moving
body: 5. The time employed in moving over this space: 6. The
force with which it strikes another body opposed to it. The moving
powers generally employed in giving motion to bodies are the action of
men or other animals, wind, water, gravity or weight, the pressure of
the air, and the elasticity of fluids and other bodies. The velocity of
motion is measured by the space moved over in a certain time, or by the
time employed in moving over a certain space. Hence the shorter the
time and the greater the space moved over in it, the greater is the velo-
city: on the contrary, the longer the time and the smaller the space
·
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MECHANICS.
LO
5
moved over in it, the less is the velocity. If a body move over a thou-
sand feet in ten minutes, we say its velocity is that of a hundred feet
in a minute. If we would compare the velocity of two bodies A and B,
of which A moves 64 yards in 8 minutes, and B moves 144 yards in
12 minutes, dividing each space by its time, we have the velocity of A to
that of B as 8 to 12.
A body in motion must every instant tend to some particular point.
If its tendency be always toward the same point, the motion will be
rectilineal or in a straight line: but if the point of tendency be continu-
ally changing, the motion will be curvilineal. When a body is acted
upon by one force or by more, all tending one way, its motion will be
in the direction of the moving force or forces: thus if a man by a rope
draw a boat to him, the boat will move in the direction of the rope.
But if two powers, tending different ways, act upon a body, it will not
move in the direction of either, but in one between the two. The con-
sideration of this composition or resolution of motion is of the utmost
importance in mechanics. If, for instance, a ship, in a current of the
sea setting due east, at the rate of three miles in an hour, be acted
upon by the wind blowing due north, at an equal rate of three miles
in the hour, it is evident that the ship will sail neither north nor east,
but in a direction compounded of these two; and as the two moving
forces are of equal power, the ship's course must be equally distant be-
tween north and east, that is to say, in the direction of north-east.
The space moved over by the ship in one hour, will in this particular
case, be the diagonal of a square of 3 miles a side, or 4.24 miles.
•
Motion is said to be accelerated when its velocity is continually in-
creasing, and uniformly accelerated when the velocity is equally increas-
ed in equal times. Motion is said to be retarded when the velocity is
continually diminishing, and uniformly retarded when the velocity is
equally diminished in equal times. The regularly increasing velocity
with which a body falls to the ground, is an example of accelerated
motion, being caused by the constant action of the principle of gravity,
by which all bodies on the earth have a tendency to move towards its
centre. By various accurate experiments it has been found that a body
falling freely will descend 16 feet 1 inch (or in round numbers 16 feet)
in one second of time. At the end of this time the body will have
acquired a velocity twice that of the 1st second, which added to the
velocity of the 1st, will give a velocity three times as great as that in
the first period. At the end of the 3d period the body will have gain-
ed a velocity four times the original, which in addition to that of the
preceding second, will produce a velocity equal to five times that ac-
quired in the first period. By this progress, the velocities in each suc-
cessive second of time will increase in the proportion of the numbers
1, 3, 5, 7, 9, 11, 13, 15, &c.; so that the velocity at the end of the
3d instant will be 5 times that of the 1st; at the end of the 5th instant
9 times, at the end of the 8th instant 15 times, &c. Hence if a body
fall through a space of 16 feet in the 1st second of its motion, at the
end of the 2d, it will fall through 3 times 16 or 48 feet more, that is
64 feet from the point where it began to fall; at the end of the 3d,
it will have fallen through 5 times 16 or 80 and with 64 in all 144 feet
from the point where the fall began; and so on progressively. Of the
nature of accelerated motion some notion may be formed from the
i
t you to
MECHANICS.
•
A
2
3
4
b
F.1.
annexed diagram. Let ABC, Fig. 1.
be a right-angled triangle: divide AB
and BC into the same number of equal
parts, as here 5 for instance, through
each of those divisions draw horizontal,
perpendicular, and diagonal lines, as
in the figure which is thus divided
into 25 small triangles, all similar to
ABC, and similar and equal to one
another. Suppose a body to fall, by
the constantly-increasing action of
gravity, from A towards B, in 5 suc-
cessive small but equal portions of
time; then the horizontal lines 1a,
C2b, 3c, &c. will represent the velocity

B
of the body, at the end of the 1st, 2d, 3d, &c. portions of time, in
which it continues to fall. In the 1st instant falling from A to 1, the
velocity will be represented by the base la of the triangle Ala, which
will represent the space passed over by the falling body in the 1st
instant. In the next instant the body will fall to 2, its velocity will be
shewn by 26, which is double la, and the space passed over by the
body will be represented by the figure 1a, 62. Now this figure con-
tains 3 triangles, similar and equal to the first triangle Ala: the body
at the end of the 2d instant has therefore acquired a new velocity
double the original, which added to it, produces a treble velocity.
In the 3d instant the body falls to 3; the velocity will then be 3c,
and the space passed over in that instant is represented by the figure
2b c3. But this space contains 5 triangles equal A 1a; being greater
than the space of the 2d instant by twice the 1st space Ala; con-
sequently if to the space passed over by a falling body, in any given
period of time, be added twice the space passed over in the 1st equal
period, the space to be gone through in the next succeeding period
will be obtained. The spaces passed through by falling bodies will
therefore increase in the proportion of the numbers 1, 3, 5, 7, 9, 11,
13, 15, &c. as was before stated.

The same diagram will give an idea of retarded motion, by proceed-
ing in a contrary direction, ascending upwards from B to A. A body
projected perpendicularly upwards from B, with a velocity represent-
ed by the line BC, will, by the counteraction of gravity, when it ar-
rives at the end of the 1st instant at 4, have its velocity diminished to
4d: when it ascends to 2, it will have only a velocity equal to 2b,
and on arriving at A, its projectile force being completely balanced and
exhausted by gravity, the body will proceed no higher, will there stop,
and, being acted on by gravity alone, it will begin to fall down with
accelerated velocity to B, where it began to ascend. The reader will
be aware, that experiments on the motion of falling bodies ought to
be made above and not below the surface of the earth: because attrac-
tion being inherent in every particle of matter, a body sunk below
the surface must be attracted upwards, by the particles above it, in
diminution of the attraction of those below it, and its specific gravity
is consequently lessened: so that were an aperture formed through the
centre of the earth from surface to surface, and a pistol bullet dropped

MECHANICS.
1
+
into it, instead of passing through the globe, it would, from the velocity
acquired in falling from the surface, pass a little beyond the centre, then
return back for a still shorter space, and so after a few vibrations, like
the pendulum of a clock, remain stationary in the heart of the earth.
Experiments on falling bodies from the top of a lofty tower will be
-satisfactory: but, those made in a deep well or pit must be inaccurate.
--
+2
F
b
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It was before shewn that a body acted upon by two uniform forces,
in different directions, will move in a direction between the two, and
in a straight line. If, however, one of the forces be regularly dimi-
nished, while the other continues unabated, the moving body will
gradually draw nearer and nearer to the direction of the uniform force,
and consequently describe a curve line. Thus, when a ball is thrown
from a cannon (not perpendicularly upwards) it receives such an im-
pulse from the powder as would carry it on in a straight line: but the
resistance produced by the air gradually diminishes this original pro-
jecting force, so that it becomes less and less able to overcome the
power of gravity, by which the ball is drawn down towards the centre
of the earth. The consequence of this is, that the ball which proceed-
ed from the mouth of the cannon in a course differing very little from
a straight line, describes a curve bending more and more downwards,
and at last falls to the ground. This curve was once supposed to be
in certain cases a parabola, or that formed by cutting a cone by a plane
parallel to one of the inclined sides: but experience has shown that,
from the resistance of the air, and other causes, the curve described by
a cannon-ball is very different from this section of the cone.
On a
knowledge of the curves described by projected bodies is founded the
art of gunnery or artillery. The force with which a body moves; or
which it would exert upon another body opposed to it, is always in pro-
portion to its velocity multiplied by its weight, that is, by its quantity
of matter. This force is called the momentum of the body, and upon
the application of this property depends the whole art of constructing
machines.
•
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ATTRACTION AND REPULSION.By attraction we mean the tendency
of bodies, in certain circumstances, to draw near to each other, agree-
ably to the import of the term, Attraction is divided into various
kinds; but as their causes are all equally unknown, it is uncertain
whether they may not be all modifications of the same principle.
These are the attraction of cohesion, of gravitation, of electricity,
of magnetism, and chemical attraction. The attraction of cohesion
takes place between bodies, only when they are at very small distances
from each other; and by this it is that bodies preserve their form, and
are prevented from falling in pieces. It would however appear that,
in some cases, bodies when very near together, repel each other, so that
although they appear to be in contact, they are not truly so, but will
require considerable force to bring them to touch one another. If
two pieces of lead be scraped very clean with a knife, and strongly
squeezed together, they will adhere so firmly that they can scarcely
be separated. The same effect will take place with plates of glass or
marble wetted with water. The different degrees of cohesive attraction
may be the cause of the different degrees of tenacity or hardness ob-
servable in bodies.
→
3+
;.
The attraction of gravity or gravitation, is that property by which
all masses of matter tend towards each other, and which they exert at
+
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1
8
MECHANICS.
-
•
all distances. It is by this property that a stone falls from a height to
the ground: and it is by this that the heavenly bodies are retained in
their several places, by their action on one another. It is a law of
nature ascertained by the immortal Newton, that every particle of mat-
ter gravitates, or has a tendency to approach towards every other par-
ticle. This law is the grand leading principle of the Newtonian system
of natural philosophy. The planets and comets all gravitate towards
the sun, and towards each other, as does the sun towards them; each
body in proportion to the quantity of matter it contains. All bodies
on this earth gravitate towards a point at, or very near its centre, con-
sequently they fall every where perpendicularly to its surface; hence
the direction of a falling body on one side of the globe must be directly
opposite to that of one falling at a point diametrically opposite to it.
As this force of gravitation or of attraction is always in proportion to
the quantity of matter in bodies, it is this which constitutes their re-
spective weights. If two bodies containing equal quantities of matter
were placed at any given distance asunder, in free open space, where
nothing could interrupt their motion, they would be mutually and
equally attracted, and at last meet in a point in the middle of their
original distance. If, however, one of the bodies were greater than
the other, as double its weight, the point of meeting would be as much
nearer to the greater body as this exceeded the smaller body in weight.
In all places equally distant from the centre of the earth the force of
gravity is equal; but this earth not being a perfect sphere, as was
explained when treating of Geography, its surface is not in all parts
equally distant from its centre. The diameter at the equator is about
34 miles longer than that at the poles, consequently gravity is weaker
under the equator than at the poles: hence it is, that the pendulum
of a clock, (which is moved by its gravitation towards the centre,)
adapted to the latitude of London, in 514 degrees, will require to be
lengthened if carried towards the north pole, and to be shortened´at
the equator, in order to keep time as it did in London. All bodies
possess some measure of gravity or weight, and, if at liberty, would
equally tend to the centre of the earth: but smoke, vapour, &c. mount
up in the air. This, however, is no proof that these substances have
no real weight, but only that they are lighter than the air in which
they float, which falls to the ground, and thereby forces the smoke,
vapour, &c. to rise until they come to a region where the air is of the
same gravity with themselves. When any substance is placed in one
scale of a balance, so heavy as to make the other scale containing a
weight to rise up, we do not suppose this weight and its scale to be
absolutely light, but only that their gravity is overcome by that of the
substance in the scale at the other end of the beam. The force of
gravity regularly increases as bodies approach the surface of the earth:
but below the surface this force regularly diminishes; so that it is
greatest on the surface itself. In proportion as any body penetrates
below the surface of the earth, more and more matter is collected above
it, the attraction of which must act in a direction opposite to that to-
wards the centre; so that a body at the centre of the earth being equally
attracted in every direction all around, may be said to possess no real
gravity. That great bodies of the earth possess attraction was clearly
proved in 1774, from a set of experiments purposely instituted under
the direction of the late Astronomer Royal, the Rev. Dr. Maskelyne,
wh
1
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MECHANICS.
9
and other members of the Royal Society of London. The experiments
were made on Shehallien, a remarkable conical mountain, detached
from all others, near Loch Tay, in Scotland, rising to an equal height
with Snowdon, in Wales, viz. 3550 feet above the sea. A pendulum
suspended by ingenious mechanism, on opposite points of the moun-
tain, was found to be constantly drawn towards it, out of the true per-
pendicular line.
*
It was already said, that all motion produced by one power must be
in a right line: when, therefore, we see bodies moving in curved lines,
we may be sure that they are acted upon by more powers than one:
for if all these forces cease to act save one, the body will again move in
a right line in the direction of this single force. A stone in a sling
whirled about by the hand acquires a force by which, if at liberty, it
would be carried forward in a straight line to a considerable distance.
Being retained, however, by the string, the stone is compelled to de-
scribe a circular motion until the string be let go, when it will pro-
ceed in a straight line, at right angles, to the direction of the string at
the moment of its discharge, or in the tangent of the circle of its re-
volution. The stone in whirling round is acted upon by two powers,
the one of the force impressed upon it by the whirling, by which it
would fly off in the tangent, and so escape from the centre of the circle:
hence this is called centrifugal force. On the other hand being held
back by the string, the stone continues to revolve at equal distances
'round the centre of motion: hence this is called centripetal force.
If we lift a bar of iron, a block of wood, or any other solid body, in
such a way that all its parts, in any position, will exactly balance one an-
other, the point by which it is supported is called the centre of gravity.
Suppose a solid block of timber, stone, &c. of a regular form, be set
upon end on a level floor, it will have no tendency to fall to either side,
and a line from the centre of gravity perpendicular to the surface of the
earth, will pass exactly through the middle of the end on the floor.
Let now the block be inclined to one side, the perpendicular from its
centre will gradually approach that side to which the block leans, until
it just coincide with the angle of the end and the lower side. At this
point the block will have no inclination, either to return to its former
erect position, or to fall over on its side: but if by leaning it still more,
the perpendicular from its centre fall on the outside of the end next the
floor, then the greater part of the weight being on the outside. of the
base, the equal balance will be destroyed, and the block will fall over
on its side. The common centre of gravity of two bodies is that
about which they would just balance each other. Thus, if two balls
of lead, A and B, be fixed to the ends of an iron rod, and that A weigh
2 pounds, while B weighs 4 pounds, the point in the rod between
them, on which the balls will balance each other, will be exactly as
much nearer to the greater ball than to the less, as this last is lighter
than the first. For, in order to make a balance or equilibrium between
two bodies, the centre of gravity or point of support must be so situated
that the distance of the one ball multiplied by its weight, shall be equal
to the distance of the other ball multiplied by its weight. The weight
of A is 2 pounds, and that of B is 4 pounds; the length of the rod
connecting them is 12 inches: the distance of A from the centre of sup-
port, must therefore be double that of B, consequently if the rod be
divided into 3 equal parts, 2 of them or 8 inches will be the distance
:
C
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10
MECHANICS.
from A to the centre, and one of them or 4 inches, that between B and
the centre, For 2 multiplied by 4 are just equal to 4 multiplied by 2.
On this principle is formed the steel-yard, or balance, with arms of un-
equal length, as will be afterwards explained. When the perpendicu-
lar from the centre of gravity of our body falls within the base of our
feet, we stand firm: if it fall without that base, we fall down on that
side and it is surprising to consider the various postures and methods
to which a man has recourse, as it were instinctively, to retain or to
recover his proper position. Thus, we bend our body forward when
we rise from a chair, or in going up a stair, to assist our motion: and
for the same reason a man leans forward when he carries a load on his
back, and bends backward when he carries it before him, and to the
right or left side, according as he carries it on the left or the right. In
all these cases, the object is to place the body and the load in such a
position that the perpendicular from the centre of gravity of both, may
fall within the base of the feet. Hence appears the great error of per-
sons rising hastily up, in a carriage or a boat, when likely to be over-
turned; for by so doing, the centre of gravity is thrown still farther
from the base, and the machine must inevitably be overset. Whereas,
had they instantly fallen down in the bottom, the centre of gravity
would have been thrown more within the base, and the accident, pro-
bably prevented.
In regular bodies of an uniform substance, as in dry timber, stone,
metals, &c. the centre of gravity will in general coincide with the cen-
tre of the figure, that is in the middle of the length, breadth and thick-
ness. But in bodies of irregular shape the centre of gravity is found
in this way. Suspend such a body by any point, with one side perpen-
dicular to the horizon, and from the same point hang a plumb line; on
the body draw a line where the string passes: do the same at any
other point of suspension, and where these two lines meet, will point
out the centre of gravity: for this being in each line it must be at the
point where they meet.

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MECHANICAL POWERS.
The mechanical powers are engines for enabling us to move and
raise heavy bodies, and to overcome resistances, which, without their
aid, we could neither raise nor move. In all machines three things are
to be considered, the weight to be raised or moved, the power by which
it is moved, and the instrument or engine by which the motion is ef
fected. The mechanic powers are commonly counted to be six in
number, viz. the Lever, the Pulley, the Axis and Wheel, the Inclined
Plane, the Wedge, and the Screw: But these may all be reduced to
two; for the pulley and the wheel are only assemblages of levers, and
the wedge and screw are inclined planes. The Lever is the simplest of all
machines, only a straight bar of wood, iron, or other substance, called a
crow or a handspike, supported on a prop called a fulcrum. Levers are
distinguished into three sorts, according to the different positions of the
prop or fulcrum, and the power employed to move the lever: 1. When
the prop is placed between the power and the weight; 2. When the
prop is at one end of the lever, the power at the other, and the weight
between them; and 3. When the prop is at one end, the weight at the
other and the power between them. Of the first sort of lever is the
1

1
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MECHANICS.
11
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1
common iron crow, for moving a block of stone or so, which rests on the
one end, and the man applies his strength as a power at the other, while
a small stone near the lower end serves as a fulcrum or prop on which
the lever turns in its motion. Suppose a man press on the upper end
of the crow with a power equal to 50 pounds, and at a distance of 48
inches from the prop, it is evident that he will be able to balance a
weight of 400 pounds, placed within 6 inches of the prop, at the other
end of the crow, (for 50 times 48 are equal to 6 times 400), and that
by a little increase of his power, he will be able to raise that weight.
Of the same sort is the poker in stirring the fire; the hand is the
power, the coal in the grate is the weight to be moved, and the bar on
which the poker rests is the fulcrum or prop. Of this kind of lever is
also the common balance, although it be supported by suspension from
above, and not upon a prop fixed below; but as the prop is placed in
the middle of the lever, it is of no service in raising weights, because
the power must be greater than the weight before the latter be moved.
From this property of the first sort of lever is derived the Roman
statera, or steel-yard, before mentioned. The point of suspension is
placed very near one end of the beam; but that is made so massy as
exactly to equal the weight of, the long slender arm. At the
end of the short arm is hung the scale containing the goods to
be weighed, and the long arm is divided into a number of parts, each
equal to the shorter arm. If any weight as 1 pound be placed at the
1st division, it will just balance 1 pound in the scale at the short end :
but if it be placed at the 2d division, it will balance or weigh 2 pounds
in the scale; if at the 3d division, 3 pounds, at the 4th division 4
pounds, &c. The 2d sort of lever has the prop at one end of the lever,
and the power at the other, and the weight to be raised between
them. The advantage gained by this sort, as in the former, is as
great as the distance between the power and the prop exceeds that
between the weight and the prop. When a man employs a crow or
handspike, to move a block of stone in a forward direction, the
point of the crow rests on the ground, under the block, which presses
upon the crow a little above the end, and a moderate power raising up
the other end of the crow, forces the block to move forward. Two
men carrying a load upon a pole resting upon their shoulders, have the
weight divided equally between them: but if the load be placed nearer
to the one than the other, the nearest man will have a greater share to
bear, in proportion as the distance between the load and the other man
is increased; and if the nearest man come directly under the load, the
whole weight will fall upon him. Suppose two men carry a load of
180 pounds on the middle of a pole resting on their shoulders, 6 feet
asunder: in this case each will carry one half or 90 pounds: but let the
load be placed within 2 feet of the hindmost man, and 4 feet from the
foremost, the distances being as 1 to 2, the hindmost man will have to
carry 120 pounds while the foremost carries only 60. By attention to
this circumstance two porters of very unequal strength, may be made
to bear just that share of a common burthen which is suited to the re-
spective powers of each; daily experience, however, shows how little it
is attended to, or rather how little it is understood. In the same way
two horses, oxen, &c. of unequal strength, might be yoked so as to draw
in proportion to their power, by placing the weaker animal as much
farther from the drawing point of the beam as his strength is inferior to
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12
MECHANICS.
that of the stronger. The oar of a boat is a lever of the 2d order: the
blade rests in the water as a prop, the power of the rower is applied at
the other end, and the weight to be moved, that is the boat, is between
the two. Every door of a house or room is a lever of the 2d sort: the
hinges are the props or centres of motion, the weight is the whole body
of the door, and the power is the hand applied to the outer edge of the
door, by which it may be easily moved. "But if, by fixing a gimblet or
a nail in the door, near to the hinges, we try to open and shut it, the
force required will be very considerable, because so near the centre of
motion. Cutting knives fastened at one end, used by coopers and others,
and chaff-cutters, are levers of the 2d order. In levers of the 3d order,
the weight is at one end and the prop at the other, and the power is
applied between them. To this sort of lever are referred the bones of
a man's arm; for when he lifts a weight by the hand, the muscle that
exerts its power is fixed to the bone, about one tenth part of the distance
of the hand below the elbow, which is the prop or centre of motion;
the muscle must then exert a power ten times as great as the weight
to be raised by the hand. This, however, has no relation to lifting a
weight from the ground by the arm stretched down perpendicularly, by
which a much greater weight may be raised. This kind of lever being
the least advantageous of all, is therefore seldom employed: on some
occasions, however, it is indispensable, as in raising a long ladder up
against a high wall, when one end is kept fast on the ground, and the
ladder is raised by strength of men's arms. When we draw a nail out
of a piece of wood by means of a clawed hammer, we employ a lever
of the 1st order. If the shaft of the hammer be 5 times as long as the
iron claws, which draw the nail the lower part of the head resting on
the board as a prop, then by pulling the end of the shaft backwards, a
man will draw the nail with one fifth part of the force that would be
requisite to draw it out with a pair of pincers.
The good qualities of a balance depend much upon the following
circumstances. The arms of the beam ought to be exactly equal, both
as to weight and length: the points from which the scales hang should
be in a right line passing through the centre of gravity of the beam
for by this the weights will act directly against one another, if the
fulcrum or point of suspension of the beam be placed in the centre of
gravity, the beam will have no tendency to take one position more than
another, but will remain steady in any, in which it may be placed;
if the centre of gravity of the beam be immediately above the fulcrum,
it will overset by the smallest action, the lowest end descending, and
the upper part of the beam, if at liberty to turn over, becoming the
lower:-but if the centre of gravity of the beam be immediately below
the point of suspension, the beam will never rest in any position but
when perfectly level or horizontal; and if put out of that position, and
then left at liberty, the beam will vibrate up and down until it come
at last to the level. From these particulars it follows, that, in a good
balance, the point of suspension or support should be placed a little
above the centre of gravity of the beam; its vibrations or balancings
up and down will be quicker, and its tendency to the level position will
be stronger, the lower the centre of gravity, and the less the weight
upon the point of support. The friction of the beam upon the axis
ought to be reduced as much as possible; the axis should be formed
with an edge like a knife and extremely hard.

MECHANICS.
13

1
The wheel and axle are employed in a great variety of ways; the power
being applied to the wheel, and the weight to the axle. Suppose a
wheel of 6 feet diameter, and consequently of 18 feet 10 inches circum-
ference, be fixed on an axle of 1 foot diameter, or 3 feet 13 inch cir-
cumference. Let a rope be placed round the rim of the wheel by
which the moving power is to be applied, and another round the axle,
but in a contrary direction, by which the weight is to be raised. If
the rope round the wheel be pulled until it go just once round, just as
much rope will be drawn off as is equal to the circumference of the
wheel. But while the wheel turns once round the axle does the same,
and consequently the rope by which the weight is suspended will wind
once round the axle, and the weight will be raised through a space
equal to the circumference of the axle. The velocity of the power will
therefore be to that of the weight in the proportion of the circumference
of the wheel, to that of the axle; or the power will be to the weight
raised as the diameter of the axle is to that of the wheel. But the dia-
meter of the axle being 1 foot, and that of the wheel 6 feet, it follows
that a power of 1 pound applied to the circumference of the wheel will
balance a weight of 6 pounds suspended from the axle, and consequently
that 6 pounds will be raised by a little more than 1 pound at the wheel.
In this, and similar machines, the wheel and axle act as perpetual levers,
of which the support is the centre of the axle of both, and the arms are
the diameters of both. Hence it is evident, that the greater the dia-
meter of the wheel in proportion to that of the axle, the greater will be
the power of the machine; but the weight will rise proportionally
slower. The capstan and the windlass of a ship act in the same way
as the wheel and axle, in raising the anchor, or other weight; the bars
or handspikes being like the spokes of a wheel without a rim. An axle
moved by a crooked handle or winch acts precisely on the same
principle.
·



If teeth be cut in the circunference of two wheels of the same size,
A and B, and in the same number, if these wheels are made to work in
one another, it is evident that they will both turn round in the same
time, although in opposite directions; and a weight attached to the axle
of the second wheel B, will be raised in the same time as if it had been
attached to the first wheel A. But if the teeth of B be made to work not
in the teeth of the circumference of A,but in others cut in its axle, then A
must go round as much faster than B, as the number of teeth in B ex-
ceeds that of the teeth in the axle of A. If the teeth in the circumference
of B be 72, and those in the axle of A be 12, it is evident that A must
make 6 revolutions in the time of one revolution of B. In the same mah-
ner, three, four, or more wheels may be made to work in one another, and
by duly proportioning the several wheels and axles to each other, any
requisite degree of power may be produced. To this sort of engines -
belong cranes for raising great weights: but in these the wheel often
has cogs instead of teeth, and a small trundle is made to work in the
cogs, and turned by a winch. In all machines of this sort, it is neces-
sary to apply a ratchet wheel, on the end of the axle, to which the
weight is attached, with a catch to fall into its teeth. This will at any
time support the weight, and keep it from descending, if the person
who turns the handle should, through accident or carelessness, quit his
hold of the winch, while the weight is raising. By this means the
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MECHANICS.
14
î
danger would be prevented which has but too often happened, by the
running down of the weight when unsupported.
The Pulley is a small wheel turning on an axis, with a drawing rope
passing over the wheel: the wheel is usually called the sheave, and it
is so fixed in the case or block as to turn on a pin, passing through its
centre. Pullies are of two sorts, fixed and moveable. When a pulley
is fixed to some elevated place, two equal weights attached to the end
of a rope passing over it, will balance each other; and if one of them
be pulled down a certain distance, the other will rise an equal distance.
This kind of pulley, therefore, gives no mechanical advantage; so that
a man can raise no greater weight by it than he could by his natural
strength. It is nevertheless of great use by changing the direction of
the power and applying it with convenience. By it a man can raise
a weight from the ground to any height, without stirring from his place,
instead of carrying it up a long stair; by it he can employ not only
his strength, but his bodily weight, in raising a load from the hold of a
ship or a cellar: by it also, a number of men may be employed in rais-
ing a heavy body, which only two or three could conveniently handle
without it; for any number of hands may be applied to the rope. The
moveable pulley is fixed to the weight, and rises or falls with it. One
end of the rope passing round this pulley is made fast to the frame
above, by which the whole is supported, and the other is carried over
another pulley made fast to the same frame above: the weight is sus
pended by a hook immediately under the centre of the moveable pulley.
This pulley acts as a lever of the 2d order; the side of the wheel next
to the fast end of the rope, is the fulcrum or prop, the power is the
moveable rope at the other side of the wheel, and the weight is applied
midway between the two. Consequently, any given weight at the cen-
tre may be raised by one half of that weight at the moveable rope, a
man may therefore, by this moveable pulley, which rises with the
weight, raise double the weight that he could raise by the fixed pulley.
Or the effect of the moveable pulley may be considered in this way:
the pulley is supported by two parts of a rope, the one fixed, the other.
moveable, which are equally stretched; each part must therefore bear
one half of the weight; consequently a power equal to one half of the
weight, exerted on the moveable, part of the rope will be sufficient to
balance the weight. In this way a number of pullies may be combined,
by which very considerable weights may be raised by comparatively
small powers. From the nature of blocks and ropes, however,
from the great friction occasioned by heavy loads, the power of a com-
bination of pullies is much more limited in practice than might be ex-
pected. Considerable improvements were lately made on blocks, by
employing, instead of a number moving separately, two of solid brass
cut into grooves of different diameters: by this contrivance, the power
was increased to the proportion of ten to one. If instead of one con-
tinued rope going round all the pullies, the rope belonging to each
pulley be made fast at top, a different proportion between the power
and the weight will be produced. In this case, each succeeding pulley
will double the power of the one before it; if two pullies be employed,
the power will sustain four times the weight, if three pullies, eight
times the weight, if four pullies, sixteen times the weight, and so on.
A pair of blocks with the rope fastened round them is termed a tackle.
The inclined plane is of great use in rolling heavy bodies, as casks,
and





MECHANICK
15
wheel-barrows, &c. up to a height to which it would be very difficult
to lift them directly. The force with which any body descends upon
a slope, or inclined plane is to the force with which it would fall per-
pendicularly to the same level, as the height of the slope is to its
length. Let the length of the slope be twelve feet, and the difference
of level between its upper and lower ends be four feet, the force by
which a body would roll down the slope, will be to that by which it
would fall that height, is as four to twelve. Consequently reversing
the case, a power equal to four, would be sufficient to support the body
on the slope, while it would take a power three times as great, or
equal to twelve, to support the body in the open air. Hence a cask, a
cylinder, or any other rolling body may be moved up such an inclined
plane, by a power a little more than one third part of that which would
be necessary to lift the body directly to the same height.
From hence it is evident, that the longer the slope, in proportion to
its height, the less power will be necessary to roll any body up it: and
to this inclined plane may be reduced hatchets, chisels, and other edged
tools, sloped only on one side.

The Wedge may be considered as formed of two planes equally in-
clined and joined together, and is used for cleaving and separating
wood, stone, &c. This effect it would be impossible to produce by the
lever, the wheel and axle, or the pulley: for the force of the blow ap-
plied to the back of the wedge, not only separates the parts which it
touches, but shakes the adjoining parts, and renders them more dis-
posed to separate when another blow is given to the wedge. It was be-
fore said that the momentum of any body in motion, is always equal to
its weight, or quantity of matter multiplied by its velocity. The force
given to a wedge is generally applied by a smart stroke, and not by
dead pressure: for a sharp blow with even a small hammer will over-
come more resistance than the constant pressure of a heavy weight;
and a blow from a blacksmith's sledge-hammer will, in cleaving wood
and stone, overcome a resistance of several tuns weight: nor have we
any way of comparing the force of a blow with that of mere pressure or
dead weight. In certain parts wedges of dry wood are used to separate
blocks and layers of stone, by driving a number into the line where the
separation is intended, and then moistening their outward ends with
water, which penetrates into the wood, swells it, and thus by a gradual
action, without violence, raises the bed of stone above the wedges from
the lower máss. Axes, and such chisels as are sloped off to an edge
from each side, act on the principle of the wedge.
The Screw can scarcely be considered as a simple mechanical power:
for it is never used without the assistance of some of the others, as a
lever handle or winch to turn it. The nature of the screw may be un-
derstood in this way. Out of a piece of strong paper cut a right-angled
triangle, having the perpendicular much longer than the base. Fasten
this base to a cylinder, and wind the paper round it, making the per-
pendicular side always to fall in the same place, by which means the
inclined side will, at every turn of the cylinder, draw nearer and
nearer to the perpendicular side; and at last coincide with it, at the
angular point of the paper. In this way the inclined side of the päper
will represent the winding or spiral groove or thread of the screw
When this spiral thread is formed on the outside of a cylinder, it be-
comes a male screw; and when the groove is formed in the inside of a

•
16
MECHANICS.
!
cylindrical pipe, it becomes a female screw. The screw acts both as an
inclined plane and as a wedge. The screw, in turning once round
will enter the body it acts upon, or will.raise it as much as the distance
between any two threads. The closer the threads therefore are, the
less force will be requisite to turn it; but the more time will be requi-
site to raise the body to any given height: the maxims holding good
in this as in every other engine, that what is gained in power is lost in
time, and what is gained in time is lost in power. A great degree of
friction is always acting against the power in a screw; but this disad-
vantage is fully compensated in other ways: for on this account the
screw may be stopt at any point of its operation; and it will retain the
weight at any elevation, even when the power has ceased to act, or is'
taken away. Hence we see screws, properly applied, supporting a large
building while the foundation is under repair: even large ships can be
moved off the ground by means of screws.

COMPOUND MACHINES. In practice upon a large scale, it is advis-
able to make use of the properties of different simple machines. In all
compound machines simplicity is to be particularly attended to in their
construction: for a complicated engine is not only the most expenssive,
but it has always a greater degree of friction in proportion to the nua-
ber of its parts, and is, therefore, much more liable to go out of order
than one more simple. Whatever be the construction of a machine, its
power will always be in the proportion of the velocity of the power to
the weight to be acted upon; and provided that this be obtained in the
highest possible degree, then the fewer the parts of the machine, the
better will it answer its purpose. The power of a machine is not at
all affected by the size of the wheels, &c. provided their proportions to
each other be preserved. Formerly, the wheels of engines being gene-
rally of wood, they were made of a large size in order to be strong;
but now that wheels of cast iron are employed, the size, is greatly re-
duced; by which, besides other advantages, much room is saved.


FLY WHEELS. In all machines, the moving power acts with more
or less irregularity, being at one time stronger, at another weaker. To
correct this irregularity, and produce an uniform motion, nothing has
hitherto been devised more useful than a fly, in the form of a heavy
wheel, or of a cross-bar loaded with equal weights. This being set in
motion, and made to revolve about its axis, maintains the power in its
full force, and distributes it equally in all parts of its revolution. On
account of the weight of the fly, small variations in the moving force,
have no visible effect on its motion, whilst the friction and resistance of
the parts of the machine prevent the fly from increasing the rapidity of
its revolution. If the motion of the machine tend to become too rapid,
the fly will slacken it, and if the machine tend to go too slow, the fly
will quicken it. Every fly, or regulang wheel, should be fixed on
that axis where the motion is swiftet, a should be made heavy when
the motion is meant to be slow, and light where it is to be quick. In
all cases the centre of motion, and centre of gravity of the wheel, should
be the same point. The axis of the wheel may be placed either hori-
zontally or perpendicularly. A small force is sufficient to set a heavy
wheel in motion, which, if continued, will accumulate in such a man-
ner as to produce effects in raising weights and overcoming resistance,
which could not in any way be accomplished by the original moving
force. This accumulation of motion in heavy wheels is of great ser-
MECHANICS.
17
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1
vice in the construction of machines for various purposes, rendering
them much more powerful and easy to be worked by men or other
animals, as well as more even and steady, when set in motion by air,
water, or other dead power. Hence the use of flies, ballast-wheels, &c.
which are commonly supposed to increase the power of a machine,
though in fact they, on the contrary, take something from it, and act
upon a quite different principle. In all machines where a fly is used,
considerably more power is necessary to set them in motion than when
no fly is employed; or the fly may be set in motion itself, before the
rest of the machine. This extra power is accumulated in the fly, which
serves as a reservoir, from which the machine is supplied when its mo-
tion slackers. This is always the case in machinery worked by ani-
mals; for none are able to exert great force with perfect constancy.
Some intervals of rest, although hardly perceptible, are necessary, other
wise the creature's strength would soon be exhausted. When the ani-
mal begins to work, he is fresh and vigorous, by which he not only
moves the machine, but communicates power to the fly. When once
it motion, the machine requires less power than at first; and the fly
acting as an assistant moving power, the animal has a little interval to
recover his strength. By degrees, however, the motion of the machine
slackens, when the animal again is obliged to renew his exertions. The
velocity of the machine would now be augmented, were it not that the
fly acts as a resisting power, and the greatest part of the superfluous
motion is lodged in it, so that the increased velocity is scarcely percep-
tible. Then the animal has another interval for rest; and thus, by
this repetition of exertion and relaxation, the machine is kept in very
uniform motion. The same thing happens in machines moved by wa-
ter or by a weight. The strength of these, it is true, is not exhausted
like that of an animal: but the yielding of its parts renders the impres◄
sion of the power sensibly less after it begins to move. Hence the
velocity is increased for some time, until the impulse becomes so feeble,
that the machine requires an additional power to keep it in motion.
Then it slackens its pace, the water or weight finds more resistance,
and, of course, acts more forcibly, and the machine recovers its velo-
city.
کر
Friction. If a horizontal plain surface were perfectly smooth, a body
would be moved along it in any direction, by a very small force: but
however even and smooth bodies may appear to the eye, yet their
surfaces, if examined through magnifying glasses, will discover num-
berless inequalities. The point of the most délicate needle, when
examined by a microscope, seems as rough as a bar of iron just come
out of the forge. Hence it happens that when one body touches ano-
ther, the heights and hollows of the one fall in with the hollows
and heights of the other, by which they are, as it were, locked to-
gether. In moving the one along the surface of the other, unless they
be a little separated, the roughness of each must be broken off, and
the resistance this occasions is called friction, that is, rubbing; and if
this be continued for some time, the bodies will lose their rough-
ness, becoming smooth, or what we call polished. Friction increases
in proportion to the weight or pressure, and the quickness of the rub
bing. Wood slides more easily upon the ground in wet weather than
in dry, and more easily than iron in dry weather, but not so freely as
iron in wet weather. A cubic piece of smooth soft wood, weighing
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MECHANICS.

eight pounds, moving on a smooth piece of soft wood, at the rate of
three feet in a second, has a friction equal to better than two thirds of
its weight. Soft wood upon hard wood has & friction equal to one
sixth of its weight; and hard wood upon hard wood has a friction equal
to one eight part of its weight. When wood rubs upon wood, vil grease
or black-lead, properly applied, will diminish the friction to one third
of what it would have been without it. Naves of wheels when greased
have only one fourth of the friction they would have if they were wet.
When polished steel moves on steel or pewter properly oiled, the fric-
tion is about one fourth of the weight; on copper or lead one fifth of
the weight; on brass one sixth: and metals have more friction when
moving on those of their own sort than when on those of a different
kind. The friction between bodies that roll is much less than between
those that drag. To perceive this, we have only to observe the differ-
ence between the locked wheel of a waggon going down hill, and an
open wheel rolling in its ordinary way. Hence in some kinds of wheel-
work, the axle is made to turn on several small wheels, or rollers, fixed
in the inner circumference of the nave, and which turn round on their
own axles as the great axle presses upon them. This contrivance, how-
ever, does not answer in very heavy machines, as the pressure is apt to
wear the naves into notches; but in light and rapid motions they are
extremely useful.
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ANIMALS EMPLOYED AS MOVING Powers.-A horse draws with the
greatest advantage when the line of draught is not level with his breast,
but inclines a little upwards. A horse drawing a weight over a single
pulley can draw 200 pounds for eight hours a day, and walk at the rate
of two miles and a half in the hour, consequently raise 1600 pounds:
but if the same horse be made to draw 240 pounds, he will work but
six hours a day, and not walk quite so fast; consequently raises or
draws but 1440 pounds. When a horse draws in a mill or gin of any
kind, great care should be taken that the walk or circle in which he
moves, be as large as possible, otherwise much of his strength will
be exerted to no purpose: if possible, it ought never to be less than
forty feet in diameter. In a walk of nineteen feet diameter, it has been
computed that two fifths of the horse's power is lost. The worst way
of applying a horse is to make him draw or carry up hill: for if it be
steep, three men will do more than one horse: each man loaded with
100 pounds, will move up faster than a horse loaded with 300 pounds.
This is owing to the structure of the human body, which is better adapt-
ed for climbing than that of the horse, On the other hand, as a horse
exerts his strength to the greatest advantage when drawing nearly in a
level, a man possesses the least power in that way. Thus if a man, weigh-
ing 140 pounds, and walking along a river or canal, draw a boat or
barge, by a rope coming over his shoulder, or otherwise fastened to
his body, he will not draw more than twenty-seven pounds; which is
only one twenty-seventh part of what a horse would draw in the same
way. Five men are considered to be equal to one horse; and can,
with the same ease, push round the horizontal beam of a horse-mill
in a forty-foot walk: but three of the same men will push round a beam
in a nineteen-foot walk, which is as much as a horse can do in that
situation, although equal to five men where he can exert his strength
to advantage. When a man carries a burden on his back, he exerts a
great force very effectually, many muscles being employed in the ope-
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MECHANICS,
19
ration. The muscles of his neck, back, and loins, keep his body and
head in the proper position to sustain the weight: those of his shoul-
ders and arms help to keep it in its place; and those of his thighs and
legs raise the weight of the whole body and the burthen, as the man
walks along. Working in this way, three men will do more than a
horse, and two often do as much, as may be seen every day in the la-
bour of a London porter. One of these men will carry a load of 200
pounds, and walk at the rate of three miles an hour: a coal-heaver
will carry 250 pounds, but then he does not go far with his load.
Chairmen do not act with the same muscles as porters; but as they
have straps brought down from their shoulders to the poles of the chair
or loaded barrow, the muscles of the back, loins, and legs are all em-
ployed. Two chairmen will walk with 300 pounds (150 to each) at
the rate of four miles an hour. The most effectual way for a man to
exert his strength is in rowing a boat; for there he acts with more
muscles than in any other way, besides being assisted by the weight of
his body.

1
MILL-WORK. In no manner has the knowledge of mechanic powers
been rendered more subservient to the conveniences and comforts of
human life than in the construction of mills. To enter into the parti-
cular formation of the various kinds of machines in which mill-work is
employed, would, in a publication like the present, be impracticable.
The following general observations, however, containing the substance
of the conclusions, drawn by the most eminent engineers, from theory
and experience, will be of use in giving a notion of the properties of
the most important kind, namely, the corn-mill. Mills are distinguish-
ed into various sorts, according to the powers by which they are moved,
and the purposes to which they are applied. Such are water-mills,
wind-mills, horse-mills, corn-mills, fulling-mills, powder-mills, boring-
mills, saw-mills, &c. In ancient times corn was ground by hand-mills,
consisting of two stones, the upper concave, the under convex, like
those of water-mills, but much smaller, the upper stone having a handle
fixed in it, by which it was turned round. Such were the machines
carried along with them by the Roman armies on their expeditions ;
and such are still to be seen in some of the remote islands of Scotland,
where they are called querns. Water-mills are of three sorts, breast,
undershot, and overshot-mills, so named from the mode in which the
water is applied to the wheel. In the breast-mills the wate falls down
perpendicularly upon the float-boards or buckets placed round the cir
cumference of the wheel. In the undershot mill, which is use where
is no fall of water, the stream strikes the float-boards at the lower part
of the wheel. In the overshot-mill the water flows over the top of the
wheel, and is received in buckets placed all round it. The water-wheth
stands perpendicularly, and is, in the best mills, from eighteen to twenty-
four feet in diameter, including the float-boards, (See Agriculture): the
water striking on these boards, forces the wheel round, and gives mo-
tion to the mill. The axle or shaft of this wheel, which ought to be
very strong, passes through the wall to the inside of the mill-house,
where it is firmly supported. On it, within the house, is another per-
pendicular wheel eight or nine feet in diameter, having cogs all round
that work in the upright staves or rounds of a trundle moving hori
zontally. This trundle is fixed upon a strong iron axle, called the
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MECHANICS.
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spindle, the upper end of which turns in a wooden bush fixed Into the
nether mill-stone, which lies upon beams in the floor above. By this
contrivance, the running mill-stone is made to turn round in the same
time with the trundle moved by the cog-wheel on the axle of the water-
wheel. The upper stone is inclosed in a round box about an inch dis-
tant from its edge; and on the top of this box is supported the hopper,
through which the corn is let down into a hole in the centre of the
upper stone, whence it falls between the two. The rapid motion of
the stone makes the corn draw more and more towards the outer edge,
where it is bruised and ground, and then falls through a spout, called
the mill-eye, into a trough placed to receive it. In order to cut and
grind the corn, both the upper and under stones are furrowed or chan-
nelled obliquely and in contrary directions, from the centre outwards:
so that the corn is forced to remain a considerable time between the
stones, to be properly ground, before it can make its escape. The
stones are also so cut that their faces are a little farther asunder at the
centre than at the edges: by this means the corn, at its first entrance
between the stones, is only bruised; but as it is whirled about and gets
nearer to the outer edge, it is cut smaller and smaller, until at last it be
ground as fine as may be required; for by a part of the machinery the
stones can be placed at any distance asunder that may be necessary.
An overshot wheel having on it buckets instead of open float-boards,
will turn with less water than a breast-wheel, where the fall seldom
exceeds half the height of the wheel: so that where there is but a small
quantity of water, and a fall great enough for the wheel to lie under
it, the bucket, or overshot-wheel is always used; but where there is a
large body of water with but little fall, the breast or under-shot wheel
must be employed. Where the water runs upon a small declivity or
slope, it can act but feebly on the under part of the wheel, which will
then go round slowly; therefore the float-boards ought to be made
long, in the direction of the axle, though not high, that a larger surface
may be acted upon by the stream, and thus, what is wanting in velo-
city may be made up in power. In this case, when the water-wheel
goes but slowly, the cog-wheel should have a greater number of cogs,
in proportion to the rounds of the trundle, in order to give the mill-
stone a sufficent velocity of motion. It was the opinion of the cele-
brated engineer Smeaton, that the powers necessary for producing
equal effects on an undershot, breast, or overshot-wheel, should be to
one another in the proportion of the numbers 48, 35, and 20. In the
construction of water-mills, the following practical rules have been
found to be the most advantageous.



1. Measure the perpendicular height of the fall of water in feet,
above that part of the wheel on which the water begins to act: this
is called the height of the fall. 2. Multiply this height in feet by the
constant number 64.2882, and extract the square root of the product,
which will be the velocity of the water at the bottom of the fall, or
the number of feet that the water moves at that point in one second.
3. Divide this velocity by three, and the quotient will give the velocity
of the float-boards of the wheel, or the number of feet they will go
through in a second, when the water acts upon them in such a way
as to have the greatest power in turning, the mill. 4. Divide the cir
cumference of the wheel in feet, by the velocity of the floats in feet in
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MECHANICS:
21
a second, and the quotient will be the number of seconds in which the
wheel will go once round. 5. By this last number of seconds divide
sixty, the seconds in a minute, and the quotient will be the number of
turns of the wheel in a minute. 6. The number of turns or revolutions
of a mill-stone, four feet and a half in diameter, in a minute, ought to
be 120, or two every second: divide 120 by the number of turns of
the water-wheel in a minute, and the quotient will show the number of
turns which the mill-stone ought to make, for one turn of the wheel.
7. Then as the number of turns of the wheel in a minute, is to the
number of turns of the mill-stone in a minute, so must the number of
staves or rounds in the trundle be to the number of cogs in the cog-
wheel, taking them in the nearest whole numbers.
If the cogs of a wheel and the rounds of a trundle were put in as
exactly as the teeth are cut in the metal wheels and pinions of a clock,
then the trundle might be made to divide the wheel exactly; that is
to say, the trundle might make any precise number of turns for one of
the wheels. Such accuracy, however, is not required in mill work
and as the cogs and rounds cannot be set in so truly as to make all
the intervals between them absolutely equal, skilful mill-wrights will
always give the wheel what is called a hunting-cog, that is one more
than will answer to an exact division of the wheel by the trundle.-
Hence, as every cog comes to the trundle, it takes up the round next
bel:ind that which it took at the former turn. By this contrivance, all
the parts of the cogs and rounds working upon one another will be
equally worn, and to equal distances from one another, in a little
time.
CLOCK-WORK is so named from its being chiefly used in constructing
clocks and watches, to point out the progress and divisions of time.--
The origin of clocks with wheels is, by some writers, traced back to
Archimedes, the celebrated geometrician, who fell at the taking of Syra-
cuse, 214 years before the Christian era: by others, the invention is
brought down much nearer to our own times. Be this as it may, it is
certain that the art of making clocks, such as are now in use, was either
invented, or at least recovered, in Germany above two centuries ago,
for watches were first brought from that country to England in 1597,
during the reign of Elizabeth. The discovery of pendulum-clocks is
due to the ingenuity of the seventeenth century; the honour of making
it being contested between the great natural philosopher Huygins,
of Holland, and Galileo, of Italy. The former declares the pendulum
was first used in 1657, while one is said to have been employed by the
son of Galileo in 1649. Be, however, the inventor who he may, it is
certain that the invention never flourished until it came into Huygins's
hands. The first pendulum-clock made in England was the production
of Fromantil, a Dutchman, in 1662, soon after the restoration of
Charles II. At different periods, and in different countries, various
instruments and contrivances have been employed for the measurement
of time. The clepsydra of the ancient Greeks and Romans was a vessel
of a certain size, filled with water, which ran out through a small hole
in the bottom, in a given time. In some parts of India, the day is di-
vided into certain portions by means of a hollow copper ball, having in
it a small hole. The ball is placed on the surface of a vessel of water
where it is slowly filled, and when full, sinks to the bottom. Our
common sand-glass requires no description: the sand is, however, sub-
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MECHANICS.
ject to irregularities in its running, according to the state of the wCH-
ther, as is water according to the density of the air: for this reason,
particularly in the half-minute glass used at sea, for measuring the rate
of the ship's sailing, other substances have been recommended. Cut
steel is sometimes employed; but the substance which seems to answer
best is egg-shells well dried in the sun, and then beaten fine and sifted
In a common eight-day clock, the motion of the several wheels and
pinions,, each divided into certain numbers of teeth, and acting upon
one another, is produced by a heavy weight suspended by a cord
wound round a cylinder or barrel. This barrel would of course be
turned round by the weight with increased velocity, just as if the
weight were falling freely from a height. The barrel is, however,
fitted with a racket-wheel, attached to another wheel, connected with a
succession of pinions and wheels composing the whole machine. The
friction and weight of all these parts would retard the descent of the
weight suspended from the barrel; but still its descent would be too
rapid for use, and very irregular. To communicate, therefore, a regu
lated equable movement to all the parts of the machine, a part is annex-
ed, called, from its hanging, the pendulum, by which the clock can be
made to move fast or slow at pleasure. Suppose a leaden or other heavy
ball to be suspended by a cord or metal rod from a fixed hook or nail:
if the ball be raised to any height, and then let go, if it were at liberty,
it would fall directly down to the ground; but the ball of the pendu-
lum being retained by the rod or cord, cannot fall directly downwards,
but must describe the arc of a circle, until it come perpendicularly
under the point on which it is supended. Here, however, it cannot
stop; for having in its descent acquired a certain velocity, it is made to
describe another portion of the same circle, by ascending nearly as
high on the opposite side of the perpendicular, as the point where it
began to descend. Were there no resistance from the air, or friction at
the centre of the motion, the pendulum would rise precisely to the
same height, then fall back again, and ascend to the first point; thus
rising and falling to equal heights in equal times, and continuing its
swinging motion, or vibration, or oscillation, without end. This, how-
ever, is not the case: the vibrations grow gradually smaller and smaller,
and at last the pendulum ceases to move; but if some other power be
made to act upon the pendulum, sufficient to compensate for the resis-
tance of the air and friction, it will continue its vibratory motion for
any length of time that may be necessary. The pendulum being con-
nected by a most ingenious contrivance to the machinery of the clock,
two great objects are attained. Sufficient force is applied to the rod of
the pendulum, to prevent its vibrations from diminishing, and by the
regularity of its motions, those of the other parts of the clock are kept
within the necessary bounds; so that the moving weight can run
down only at a very slow rate. It was formerly noticed, in speaking
of gravity or attraction, that this earth not being a perfect sphere, but
swelled out at the equator, and flattened at the poles, gravity was more
powerful at the latter than at the former parts, and that a pendulum
calculated to vibrate seconds or any other portion of time at London in
N. lat. fifty-one degrees and a half, would require to be lengthened
if carried to the pole, and shortened if carried to the equator, in order
to perform its vibrations in equal times. The length of a pendulum
vibrating seconds, or sixty times in one minute, at London has been
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MECHANICS.
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found by accurate experiments, to be 39.13 inches, and not 39.2 inches,
as commonly stated. The times of the vibrations of different pendu-
lums are to one another in proportion to the square roots of their re-
spective lengths; or the lengths will be to each other as the squares of
times of vibration. Thus the pendulum of a common eight day clock
beating seconds, or sixty times in a minute, is in length 39.13 inches;
it is required to determine the length of the pendulum of a table clock
which shall beat half seconds, or 120 times in a minute. Here say as
the square of the number of vibrations in a minute 120, or 14,400 is
to the square of 60, or 3,600, so is the length of the last pendulum
31.13 inches to a fourth quantity 9.78 inches, the required length for
beating half seconds. So that a pendulum to beat twice as fast as an-
other must be one fourth of its length, and one to beat only once for
two beats of another, must be four times its length.
"
Table clocks and pocket watches are moved by the action of springs
and not by weights. It is one of the facts observed in motion, that
action and re-action are always equal and contrary. If you press
upon the scale of a balance to keep it even with the opposite scale
containing a weight of ten pounds, your hand is pressed upwards just
as much as you press the scale downwards, and precisely in propor-
tion to the weight in the scale; for if it require a certain measure of
muscular power to balance a weight of ten pounds, one tenth of that
power will be sufficient to balance a weight of one pound. If standing
in a boat you, by a rope, draw towards you another boat with a man
in it, the weight in both cases being equal, both boats will move for
ward until they meet at a point midway between their original positions.
Upon this law of motion depends chiefly what is called the elasticity
or springiness of bodies. An elastic body changes its figure by yielding
to any impulse or pressure, but endeavours, by its own nature and
force, to return to its original form. A piece of cane may be doubled
and its two ends brought together; but as soon as it is at liberty it will
suddenly return to its first straightness: the same thing happens in a
thin slip of steel, and in some degree in various sorts of wood. All
bodies hitherto known possess elasticity in a greater or less degree; but
none perhaps are so perfectly elastic as to restore themselves with a
force exactly equal to that with which they were compressed. The
elasticity of certain bodies seems to depend much on their density, that
is on the closeness of their component particles to one another; thus
metals are rendered more dense and elastic by being hammered; cold
condenses solid bodies, and renders them more elastic; but air, steam,
and other similar fluids are rendered more elastic by heat which rarefies
them, and enlarges the distance between their particles. An elastic
body exerts its force equally in all directions round it; but the effect is
chiefly perceived in that direction where the resistance is the weakest.
In firing a gun, the elastic fluid produced by the inflammation of the
powder acts on all sides equally; but the effect is visible only at the
mouth of the barrel, where the resistance of the air is as nothing when
compared with that of the sides of the piece. That the explosion acts
backwards against the bottom of the barrel, with great force, no young
sportsman will be inclined to doubt. The more any elastic body is
compressed, the more power will it exert in returning to its original
state; and this power which is at the greatest when the body is the
most pressed together, regularly diminishes as the pressure is lessened,

24
MECHANICS.

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and finally ceases when the pressure being entirely removed, the body
resumes its first position. The spring of a table clock or a watch, is
a thin long plate of fine härdened steel rolled up in a circular or ra-
ther spiral form; the inner end is fastened to an axle called the
spring-arbor, and to the outer end is connected the cord or chain by
which the motion is communicated to the works of the machine.
When by turning round this axle by the key, the spring is bent
and drawn into the smallest compass, it acts with the greatest force
upon the chain, and compels it to turn the barrel or fusee on which
it is wound; but as the spring unfolds itself its power is lessened;
consequently the chain will act with lessening force on the barrel, and
the motion of the machine will be gradually slackened. To com-
pensate for this natural defect, the barrel on which the chain is
wound, is not made cylindrical or of equal thickness throughout;
but tapering to a point at one end. To the great end the chain is
fastened, and thence wound round to the small end. By this ingeni-
ous contrivance, when the spring begins to act, the chain draws the
fusee at the small end where it has the least power on it, and as the
spring unfolds, and its power diminishes the chain comes to act up-
on the fusee where its thickness and diameter are increased. At last
when the spring is opened nearly to its greatest extent, and is con-
sequently weakest, the chain acts upon the fusee now enlarged to its
greatest diameter, and consequently produces an effect equal to that
produced in all the foregoing points of the motion. Pocket watches
and many table clocks (often improperly called dials) contain only such
machinery as is necessary for showing time by the revolution of the
hands. Watches, which contain also the parts requisite for telling
the hour by a bell are termed repeating watches. The most import
ant improvements and application of watch or clock-work, are ex.
hibited in the machines introduced on ship-board, for the purpose of
pointing out the time, at some particular place, and thereby enabling
the mariner to ascertain his position in longitude, east or west from
the meridian of the place at which the time is pointed out by the
machine. The chronometer or time-keeper, or marine-watch, was
brought to the greatest perfection by Harrison of London, who, in
1764, received from parliament ten thousand pounds in reward of
his long labour and ingenuity. One of his chronometers was carried
round the world by Captain Cook in the years 1772-1775, and in all
that time never erred but fourteen seconds in any one day, on which
account another reward of equal value was granted to the artist. A
watch of the same sort constructed by Arnold of London, during a
trial of thirteen months, on shore, never varied more than six two-
thirds seconds in any two days. Ingenious men in France were also
employed on the same improvements in which they were eminently
successful; it is not a little honourable, however, to British talent, that
in a voyage of discovery to South America, performed by the Spanish
government, twenty eight years ago, in which time pieces of the best
construction from London and Paris were employed, it was discover-
ed that much more confidence could be placed in the accuracy
of the English than in that of the French chronometers.
watches the equal motion is produced by the vibrations of the balance
wheel, in the same way as that of the clock is produced by the pen-
dulum.
In

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MECHANICS
26
WHEEL-CARRIAGES. The most ancient carriages were probably the
sledge, by which a weight is dragged along the ground, and the hand
barrow carried between two men. Sledges are still employed among
ourselves for particular purposes; a narrow sledge conveying small
beer barrels may be seen in the streets of London; but in Amsterdam,
Rotterdam, and other trading towns of Holland, heavy loads are drawn
along upon sledges, which it is supposed have not the same effect as
waggons, in shaking and deranging the artificial banks, forming the
generality of the streets and quays of that country. In certain moun-
tainous tracts of Scotland, Wales and Ireland, sledges are very useful,
where wheel carriages could not be safely employed. In the northern
climates of Europe, where the ground is covered with frozen snow for
many months together, sledges are the common implements of transport
for travellers as well as goods. The speed with which the Lap-
lander skims along the frozen plains, in his light sledge drawn by the
rein-deer, exceeds what we can easily believe; 150 or 200 miles, it

said, is no uncommon day's journey. Were the surface of the ground
a plain of perfect smoothness the sledge would be the best machine of
carriage; but on a rough surface the friction in swift motion is very
great. Upon a perfectly smooth surface, a wheel, instead of revolving,
would in general slide along like the sledge. This smoothness how-
ever does not exist; the roughnesses of the rim of the wheel fall in
with those of the ground; the bottom part of the wheel is thus kept
back, while the axle, nave and top of the wheel are drawn forward;
thus a rotatory or rolling motion is produced. The advantage of
wheels over the sledge will be manifest from this consideration, that
the sledge suffers a friction in every part that touches the ground,
which is not the case with the wheel. Suppose the circumference
or rim of a wheel to measure eighteen feet, and that of the axle to
be six inches. When the wheel goes once round, the carriage moves
forward eighteen feet over the ground; but in all this space no fric-
tion takes place between the wheel and the ground, but only the ap-
plication of different parts of the rim to the surface of the ground.
The only sliding or friction takes place in the action of the end of
the axle in the nave; hence the friction is reduced from eighteen feet
to six inches, that is to one thirty-sixth part of that of a sledge, even
when the axle moves to the greatest disadvantage. The touching parts
of the axle and nave being thus reduced, they can be the more easily
fitted to each other and kept smooth; the only inconvenience is the
height of the wheels, which must always be added to that of the
carriage itself. By the circulating motion of the wheels the friction
is so much diminished, that a four wheeled carriage may be drawn
with five times as much ease as a sledge sliding along the same sur-
face. Large wheels have an advantage over small ones, because if the
spokes be considered as levers, they act with a power proportioned
to this length. All wheels, but particularly small ones, are apt to
sink into the ground, and so to produce a constant obstacle to their
progress. The fore wheels of four wheeled carriages are nevertheless
made smaller than the hind wheels, that they may turn in less room;
but the carriage would go much easier if all the four were of the
same size.
The small wheels must turn round as much faster than
the large ones, as their circumference is less. When the carriage
therefore is loaded equally heavy on both axles, the friction and
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26
MECHANICS.
wear of the fore axles and wheels, must be much greater than those
of the hind wheels. This ought to engage us to lay the greatest part
of the load on the hind axle; but the general practice is just the
reverse, by which course the friction is greatest where it ought to be
least, and the fore wheels are pressed deeper into the ground than the
hind, although they are with more difficulty drawn out of it than
the latter. It is however true, that when the road leads up a steep
hill, if the hind wheels be over-loaded, the fore wheels run the risk
of being tilted up. It is not forgotten what an outcry was
raised by the generality, not to say the whole of the carriers in this
country, against the act of parliament requiring the use of broad
wheels in waggons, and how hard it was to persuade them to con-
form to it, although they were allowed to employ more horses, and
to draw greater loads than before. The main objection was, that as
a broad wheel must necessarily touch the ground in many more points
than a narrow wheel, the friction must of course be proportionally
greater, and consequently the number of horses must be proportion-
ally increased, to draw no more than the usual load. It did not oc-
cur to the objectors, however, that if the whole weight of the waggon
and load bore upon the ground in a great number of points, each
would have proportionally less weight to bear, than when the same
was borne by only a few points of the wheels; and therefore, that the
friction would be just equal, in equal degrees of weight. The truth of
this assertion will be manifest by a very simple experiment. Fasten
one end of a string to a brick, and the other to a scale of a com-
mon balance. Lay the brick on its edge on a table, and put as
much weight in the scale hanging on the side of the table, as will, by
its descent, draw the brick along the table. Then taking back the
brick to its former position, lay it on its broad side, and you will find
that the same weight in the scale will draw the brick along the table,
just as it did when the brick was on its edge. In the first case the
brick on edge may represent a narrow wheel, and in the last a broad
wheel;
and since the brick is drawn across the table with the same
power and ease, whether lying on its broad or its narrow side, it shows
that a broad and a narrow wheel may be moved along the ground with
the same ease, supposing them equally heavy, even although they
should be dragged and not roll in their course. It is also to be con-
sidered that, as narrow wheels are always sinking into the road, they
in fact move as if they were going up hill even when on level ground;
and their sides are liable to considerable friction against the sides of the
ruts. But these inconveniencies are avoided by the use of broad wheels,
which besides, instead of cutting up the road, roll it even smooth and
hard, as constant experience fully proves. Upon the continent pre-
judices are still very powerful against the use of broad wheels. In
France, for instance, where the formation and maintenance of the great
roads are under the immediate administration of government, these roads
are carried on as much as possible in straight lines, and of a very spaci-
ous, perhaps an unnecessary breadth, strings of heavy carriages with
narrow wheels follow one another in the same or in parallel tracks, so
that after a course of rain the road has, in some shape, the appearance of
a furrowed field. To prevent this mischief, as gravel is scarce in that
country, a broad space in the middle of certain much frequented roads
•
•
•
1
HYDROSTATICS.
27
•
is paved or pitched with granite, like the streets of a town, leaving a
sufficient earthen road on each side.
If wheels were always to run upon smooth level ground, the spokes
ought to be set in perpendicularly to the naves and axles; because they
would then bear in the strongest direction of the wood. Ground being
in general more or less uneven, one wheel falls into a hollow or rut,
when the other is on a height, in this position the wheel in the hollow
bears a great deal more than the other. To obviate this disadvantage
what are called dishing or concave wheels have been introduced. The
hollow of the wheels looking outwards, it follows that when one is in a
hollow, and the other upon a height, the spokes of the lower wheel,
(which upon level ground are inclined inwards toward the carriage,)
stand perpendicular, and therefore are in their strongest position at the
time when, by the inclination of the ground, the greatest weight is
thrown upon them. The advantages of dishing wheels are still very
imperfectly known or turned to use, in most parts of the continent.

SECT. II.
HYDROSTATICS.
By Hydrostatics, in general, is meant the science which treats of
the mechanical properties of water and other fluid substances; that is
to say, of their nature, gravity or weight, pressure, and motion, and of
the methods of weighing solid bodies, in them. The consideration of
the properties of fluids, when in motion, is more particularly termed
Hydraulics, from two Greek words allusive to a water-pipe. This
last branch is of the utmost importance in life, as upon its principles are
constructed all sorts of pumps, fire-engines, conduit-pipes for conveying
water from one place to another, canals, on which depends so much of
our inland commerce, and of the embellishment of rural scenery.· Again,
Hydrostatics treat of the weight and equilibrium or balance of fluids
at rest, and hydraulics of the laws of fluids in motion, that is, when the
equilibrium or balance is destroyed.
A fluid is a body, the parts of which readily yield to any pressure,
and are easily moved among themselves. Fluids are of two kinds;
elastic, such as the air of the atmosphere, and the different sorts of gas,
which may be all compressed into smaller spaces than they at first oc-
cupy; non-elastic fluids are water, oil, mercury, &c. which are nearly
incompressible. It is with the latter class, or rather with water alone,
that we are now particularly concerned. The cause of fluidity is still
unknown. Some philosophers have thought that the particles of fluids
are globular, and of various sizes, by which properties they touch each
other in only a few points, and therefore may be easily moved amongst
themselves. Others are of the opinion that these particles possess but
little mutual attraction, and consequently adhere but feebly to one ano-
ther. It is owing to this weak cohesion that the surface of fluids will,
when at liberty, always place itself in a direction at right angles to a
line, tending to the centre of the earth, that is, in a level or horizontal,
direction; for the particles being very feebly attracted by one another
cach will be independently acted upon by gravity, and consequently all.

28
HÝDROSTATICS.
will be arranged at equal distances from the centre, as far as space is
afforded for their motions. Every one knows that fluids have weight
or gravitate, when considered by themselves; but it was long supposed
that a quantity of a fluid had no weight, as long as it was covered and
immersed in a larger body of the same fluid. As a proof of this, we
were referred to the fact that a bucket of water is drawn up with great
ease, while it is below the surface of the well, and the weight was sud-
denly increased as soon as it rose out of the water into the air. To
explain this, we are to reflect that fluids possess the reniarkable pro-
perty of pressing, not only perpendicularly downwards, as solid bodies
do, but also upwards, sideways, and in all directions equally. Hence
it is by the upward action of the water in the well that the bucket so
easily rises; for the water in the bucket being of the same weight with
that round it in the well, it is evident that only a small force in an up-
ward direction will make the bucket rise to the surface. At that point,
the upward pressure of the water ceases, when, to draw up the bucket
and water, will require a force more than sufficient to countervail the
total gravity or weight of both. The upward pressure of fluids may
be shown be the following simple experiment. Take a straight tube or
pipe of clear glass, that the action of the fluid may be seen, and open
at both ends. Close one end with, with your finger, and plunge the
other to any convenient depth in a vessel of water. In this case the
water will rise but a little way in the pipe, because the air within it
resists its ascent. Now take off your finger from the upper end of the
tube, when the air will escape, and the water wil rise in the tube pre-
cisely to the level of the water in the vessel on the outside. The same
effect will be produced whether the tube be straight or crooked, whe-
ther it stand upright or inclined in any direction. Upon this property
of fluids rising always, when at liberty, to the same level in all their
parts, it is that water conveyed in a close pipe from a spring, may be
allowed to descend to great depths, and will again ascend to the level
of the source. That fluids press also laterally or sideways, is plain
from the force with which they flow from a hole in the side of a full
vessel. As fluids press equally in all directions, it follows that the
pressure on the bottom of any vessel, whatever. be its shape, is always
in proportion, not to the quantity of fluid in the vessel, but to the area
of the bottom multiplied by the depth of the fluid. Thus, in a cylindri-
cal vessel of the same width throughout, the pressure on the bottom
must be equal to that of the quantity of fluid: but if other vessels be
made on equal bottoms, and of equal heights with the cylinder, the
one spreading out like a tumbler or funnel, and the other contracting
upwards like a tumbler or funnel turned down, the quantities of fluid
in those two vessels must be very different from that in the cylinder;
but the pressure on the bottom of all those will be equal. A property
of fluids of great importance is this, that a quantity, however small,
may be made to counterpoise a quantity, however large. In solid bo
dies a pound will only balance à pound, a hundred will only balance a
hundred, &c.; but in fluids, a pint may be made to balance a gul-
lon, a hogshead, &c. If to a wide vessel, containing a large quan-
tity of water, a tube or pipe, however small, be connected at the
bottom, and water be poured into them,, it will rise and stand at
the same level in both the pipes and the vessel. This happens
whatever be the shape of the vessel and tube; and it shows the
•


1
HYDROSTATICS.
29
}
1
two quantities of water, in this position, to be in equilibrium, or to
balance one another. Hence we see that the pressure of fluids is
very different from their gravity or weight. The weight is in pro-
portion to the quantity; but the pressure is proportioned to the per-
pendicular height. The same thing may be shown by means of
what is called the hydrostatic bellows. Take two oval or circular
boards, eighteen inches broad, connected together by a broad band
of leather, like common bellows, but having no air-hole or valve.
To the lower part of the side-leather fix a small pipe, communicat-
ing with the inside, and three or four feet high. Pour a little wa-
ter into the pipe, which will enter the bellows, and raise up the
upper board.
Then lay weights on the upper board, and pour in
more water by the pipe, when the weight wll be forced upwards,
to the utmost extent of the leather sides. By this means, if the pipe
be kept full, even if the water should not weigh half a pound, it
will force up the board loaded with 300 pounds. Hence, if a man
stand on the bellows, and pour water, or even blow into the pipe,
he will raise himself up, provided the bellows be air-tight.
·
Specific Gravities. It is common, in speaking of different sub-
stances to describe one class as heavy and another as light; but the
fact is that all bodies must possess some portion of matter, and con-
sequently of weight. Thus we say smoke and vapcur are light be-
cause they rise in the air, and a stone is heavy because it falls to
the ground. A piece of lead is called heavy because it sinks in wa-
ter, while a piece of dry wood, a straw, a feather, are counted to be
light because they do not sink in water. The fact is, however, that
weight being always equal to the quantity of matter, if this matter
be compressed into a small compass, the substance will be heavy
in proportion to its bulk, while another in which the matter is spread
out to a great bulk, will be comparatively far less heavy. By com-
paring the relative weights of different substances in proportion to
their bulk, we learn what we call their specific gravity. In these
comparisons, some fixed standard must be employed; this is usually
fresh water distilled to purify.it. A body of the same weight, with
an equal bulk of this water, will remain suspended in it; but if this
body be heavier than an equal bulk of water, it will sink to the
bottom, and if it be lighter it will swim on the surface. A penny-
piece sinks in water because it is nearly eight times heavier than an
equal bulk of water; but a piece of dry fir deal will swim, because
it is little more than half the weight of an equal bulk of water.
(See the following Table of Weights.) A body suspended in water
loses as much of its weight in air as is equal to a quantity of wa-
ter of the same bulk: and if the weight of the body weighed out
of the water be divided by the weight it loses when weighed in
the water, the quotient will show how much the body is heavier
than a quantity of water of the same bulk. Take a cubic piece of
bar iron, weighing just five pounds avoirdupoise, or 1280 drachms:
dip it in distilled water, and then weigh it again. The weight will
now be reduced to 4 lb. 5 oz. 14 dr. or 1118 dr. showing a loss of
weight of 10 oz. 2 dr. or 162 dr. Divide the weight in air, 1280
dr. by this loss 162 dr. and the quotient 7.88 will give the specific
gravity of bar-iron when compared with pure water; that is, that
the iron is nearly eight times as heavy as water. Again, a new
-
t
30
HYDROSTATICS.

P
guinea of the regulated standard should, in the air, weigh 129 grains,
but in water it is found to weigh only 121 grains and three-fourths.
This shows that a quantity of that water, equal in bulk to the guinea,
weighs only seven grains and a quarter. Dividing the 129 grains
by this quantity, it will show standard coin_gold to be 17.793, or
nearly eighteen times heavier than water. If the quotient be eigh-
teen or upwards, then the gold is very fine; but if it be seventeen
or less, it has had too great a proportion of alloy or inferior metal
mixed with it.
The weight of bodies in water, or any other fluid, is discovered
by a balance very like the common one, but very nicely made, having,
at the bottom of one of the scales a hook on which to hang the sub-
stances to be weighed, so as that they may sink into a vessel of
water, without wetting the scales; for weighing bodies lighter than
water, an additional contrivance to sink them is employed. For
finding the specific or relative gravity of fluids, an instrument, cal-
led the hydrometer, or water measurer, isused, consisting of a hollow
copper ball, to which is attached a flat brass wire, marked with a number
of equal divisions. By means of some small shot or quicksilver,
occupying the lower part of the ball, when placed in any fluid, it
floats or sinks in such a way as to keep the wire always upright;
and the lighter the fluid into which the hydrometer is dipped, the
deeper will it sink, and so point out the degree upon the divisions
of the wire.
\
SOLIDS.
Platina hammered
pure and melted
- 20.38
· 19.50
Gold pure and hammered 19.36
19.26
By a number of accurate experiments on substances of various sorts,
tables of their gravities, compared with that of distilled water, have been
formed, from which the following brief statement is extracted. The
weight of distilled water is the same all over the world; and the
quantity of it contained in a cubic vessel of one foot in length,
breadth, and depth, or in 1728 cubic inches, weighs 1000, or more
precisely 998 ounces and three quarters avoirdupoise. In this list
the substances are arranged in the order of their weight, from the
heaviest to the lightest, stating that of distilled-water at 1.00.
Table of Specific Gravities.
Iron cast
Zinc
Antimony
Arsenic
Oriental Ruby
Emerald of Peru -
Diamond
Flint Glass, English
Alabaster
Marble, white
Slate, common
Flint or Silex
Rock-crystal
Glass, green
Agate.
Crown Glass, English -
Limestone, from 1.39 to
cast
standard hammered - 17.59
17.59
-
cast
standard of coin
Copper in wire
Brass cast
Steel hardened
Copper melted
Iron in bar
Tin melted
}
common - 17.49
-
13.57
Mercury
Lead melted
11.35
Silver pure and hammered 10.51
10.47
10.39
-
-
-
-
C
#
8.88
8.40
7.82
7.79.
7.79
7.29
-
SOLIDS.
-
C
7.21
7.19
6.70
5.76
4.28
3.77
3.52
3.29
2.73
2.72
2.67
2.66
2.65
2.62
2.59
2.52
2.39
HYDROSTATICS.
81
Magnesia
Lime
Alum
-
Sulphur
Ivory, dry
Ebony
Amber
Camphor
Wax
Tallow
Oak, dry
Pumice
·
-
Ash, dry
Maple, dry
Elm, dry
Solids.
141
+
•
2.30
2.30
2.00
1.99
1.82
1.12
1.08
.99
5005018
Fir, dry
Cork
SOLIDS.
Linseed Oil
.80 Olive Oil -
.75
I
FLUIDS.
Sulphuric Acid
Nitrous do.
Fluoric do.
Marine do.
Sea-water
Fresh-water distilled
-
-
•
Spirit of Wine, common
pure
-
-
:55
.24
1.85
1.58
1.50
1.20
1.03
1.00
.94
.91
..84
.82
N. B. In the preceding list of solid substances is reckoned mercury
or quick-silver, although it be always found in nature in a fluid state;
where uncombined with sulphur or other substances; because it pos-
sess all the other qualities forming a solid metallic body. By intense
cold, natural as well as artificial, mercury can be made solid and
malleable, or capable of being beaten out with a hammer.
Diving-bell, &c. On a knowledge of hydrostatics, or of the relative
weights of common air, water, and other fluids, are constructed two
machines, which have excited much attention, although the world has
not yet reaped from either all the benefits they seem capable of pro-
ducing. These are the diving-bell, and the air-balloon. The nature and
principles of the diving-bell may be understood from a simple expe-
riment. Take a common glass tumbler, and place it with the mouth
over, and inclosing, but not touching a small piece of paper, floating
on the surface of water in a bason. Pressing the tumbler down in-
to the water, you will see that the paper, and consequently the wa-
ter, rise but a very little way within the tumbler, the air within it
opposing the rise of the water, although being elastic and compres-
sible, it is forced into a space smaller than it had before, by the ex-
ternal upward pressure of the water. The first diving-bell of any
importance was made a hundred years ago by the celebrated astro-
nomer, Dr. Halley: it was in the shape of a bell, and coated with
lead, so as to sink even when empty; weights were fixed to the lower
edges, to keep the machine in an erect position; it was three feet
wide at top, five feet wide at bottom, or the mouth, and eight feet
high. In the top was a clear strong glass to let in the light, and
also a cock, by turning which the heated air was allowed to escape.
The machine was suspended from the mast and yards of a ship,
in such a way as to be let down into the sea over its side. Round
the inside near the mouth was a seat for the divers. To supply the
bell with fresh air, two barrels of sixty-three gallons each were made
and cased with lead to make them sink when filled only with com-
mon air. To a hole in the top of each barrel was fixed a leather
pipe or hose, long enough to fall below the mouth of the bell, by
which the air in the barrel was forced into the bell by the pres-
32
HYDROSTATICS.
sure of the water, let in by a small hole into the barrel. By this
method fresh cool air was admitted into the bell, and the foul heat-
ed air was let out by the cock in the top, so that Dr. Halley, with
four other persons, was able to remain under water, at a depth of
nine or ten fathoms, for an hour and a half at a time, without ex-
periencing any bad consequences. By the glass above, they had light
enough, when the sea was still, to read and write, and take up any
thing that lay on the ground within the compass of the bell. Since
Halley's time, many others have been constructed with various im-
provements, by which the bottom of the sea has been examined, and
various articles of value that had been lost, have been recovered by
attaching to them ropes communicating with a ship, by which they
have been hoisted up and taken on board.
1
The air-balloon is a globular or spheroidal bag of silk, or other light
but strong material, varnished over so as to be air-tight. Over the bal-
loon is thrown a net, having the meshes smallest at the top, where the
pressure of the internal vapour is the strongest. To the lower end of
the net under the balloon is suspended the car or boat, of slender wicker
work, to carry the aerial traveller. A cubic foot of common air weighs
above 554 grains, and by heating it to a certain degree it will expand
to double that bulk, when a cubical foot will weigh only half ‍that
quantity. If therefore the air within a balloon can be heated so much
that it, with the materials of the balloon, &c. shall together be lighter
than an equal bulk of the external air, then, as happens in solid bodies
in a fluid, the balloon must ascend until it arrive at a region where the
external air is just as light as the balloon itself, and there it will re-
main. To maintain the heat of the air within the balloon the first
were constructed with a small grate, for burning straw and wool; but
the great danger of setting fire to the machine soon led to the employ-
ment of what is called inflammable air, (hydrogen gas,) now always
used. This air is obtained by putting the filings or turnings of iron
with oil of vitriol, (now called 'sulphuric acid,) weakened with water, in-
to casks lined with lead, from the tops of which tin pipes convey the
inflammable air or vapour into the balloon.
Air-balloons were first constructed in France by two brothers named
Montgolfier in 1782; but as early as 1766, some eminent British natu-
ralists, Mr. Cavendish, Professor Black of Edinburgh, Mr. Cavallo, &c.
had made various experiments of a similar nature. By Mr. Cavendish,
the weight of inflammable air was ascertained to be but one seventh of
that of an equal bulk of common air. The motion of a balloon in the
air is very different from that of a ship on the sea; for the balloon be-
ing entirely enveloped in the air, can be acted upon by it alone, and
must therefore follow all its motions, and no other; whereas the sails,
and a great part of the body of the ship are exposed to the impression
of the air, while the lower parts of the body are immersed in the wa-
ter, through which it may be made to move in various directions, by
the force of the winds. Hitherto no method has been devised of giv-
ing to a balloon a direction or velocity in any respect different from
those of the current of air in which it floats; that such a discovery may
in future be made, however, it would be rash to deny. When a balloon
was first exhibited at Paris in 1782, the celebrated Dr. Franklin was
esked what uses he thought might be made of such a machine. It is a
new-born infant, said he, no man can foretel what it may come to.


+
HYDROSTATICS.
98
1
The earliest experiment on the specific and relative gravities of dif
ferent substances, of which we have any account, is that made above
two thousand years ago by Archimedes, a man of singular acuteness in
philosophical researches. Hiero, king of Syracuse in Sicily, having
given to an artist a quantity of pure gold to form a royal crown, sus-
pected, when the work was done, that some of the gold had been kept
back, and a base metal mingled in its place. Applying to Archimedes
to ascertain the fact, the geometrician was long embarrassed in the en-
quiry; at last one day as he stepped into a bath, it struck him that,
in proportion as he went deeper into the water, it rose on the sides of
the bath. Hence he was led to reflect, that a body of any other shape,
but of equal bulk with himself, would just raise the water to the same
point; but that one of equal weight consisting of heavier materials, and
consequently of less bulk, would not raise it so high. Feeling the an-
swer to the king's question to be now within his reach, Archimedes
sprang out of the bath, and ran home, crying out as he passed along the
Greek words heureka, heureka, I have found it out.-I have found it
out. Preparing a mass of pure gold equal in weight to the crown, he
weighed them both in water, and found the gold to weigh in it more
than the crown; and likewise that the crown displaced more of the wa-
ter than the mass of pure gold. Making similar comparisons of the
weight and bulk of the crown with silver, copper, and other metals, he
was at last enabled to determine the quantity of pure gold and of the
baser substance combined in its composition.

ܝ


HYDRAULICS.
BY hydraulics, an application of hydrostatics, we are taught to esti-
mate the force and velocity of fluids in motion. On the principles of
hydraulics entirely depend various machines and engines worked by
water, such as mills, pumps, fountains, &c. also the construction of
canals, locks, conduits, &c. If an open vessel be filled with water, and
in it be made two holes of the same size, the one in the bottom, and
the other in the side close to the bottom, equal quantities of water will
be thrown out, in equal times from both holes. At first the force and
swiftness of the water are the greatest, and they gradually, diminish as
the water in the vessel is lessened. From observations on the pres-
sure of fluids, this rule is derived, that the velocity or swiftness, and
consequently the quantity, of water spouting out through a hole in the
bottom, or in the side of a vessel, are always in proportion to the
square root of the depth or distance of the hole below the surface of
the water. The pressure of fluids against the side of a vessel is as the
spuare of the depth, of course to make double the quantity of water run
out through one as runs out at another, it will require four times the
pressure; therefore, the first hole must be placed four times lower below
the surface of the water ;-to make thrice the quantity flow out the hole
must be made nine times lower, &c. This will appear from experiment.
Fill a deep vessel with upright sides with water; in the side make two
holes, the one nine inches and the other four times lower, that is thirty-
six inches, below the surface of the water; in these holes fix two pipes
of equal bores; and keep the vessel always full to the same height. The
F
،
34
HYDRAULICS.
velocity with which the water spouts out from different apertures being
as the square root of the respective depths; and the root of 9 inches be-
ing 3, and that of 36 being 6, the double of 3; it will follow that the
lower pipe will, in any given time, discharge double the quantity that
flows from the upper pipe. If therefore, a pint measure be held to the
upper pipe, and a quart to the lower, both vessels will be filled in the
same time. The horizontal distance to which water will spout, before
it touch the ground, from a pipe in the side of an upright vessel, is al-
ways greatest when the hole is made in the middle of the depth of the
water, and it is always equal to the whole of that depth. From other
holes above or below the middle, the water goes to a less distance; and
this distance is always the same when the water flows from pipes placed
at equal distances above and below the centre pipe. If again a number
of pipes be fixed at the junction of the side and the bottom of the vessel
all pointing upwards with different degrees of inclination, that inclined
at an angle of forty-five degrees, that is at equal distances from the per-
pendicular, and the horizon, will throw the water to the greatest dis-
tance, which will be always equal to the depth of water in the vessel.


Pipes. It was before observed, that water or any other fluid may be
conveyed in a pipe to a great depth, and will again ascend to the level
of the source. Bend a leaden pipe nearly double; hold both ends up-
right, and pour water into one leg, when it will rise in the other leg to
the same height. If the water in the one leg weigh two pounds it will
just balance and support two pounds in the other leg; but as the weight
in both is supported by the middle and lower parts of the pipe, the
weight and pressure upon that part must be equal to both, or to four
pounds. Hence we may perceive the necessity of greatly strengthen-
ing the lower parts of a water pipe, when placed much below the level
of the two ends, as must happen when the water is conveyed from one
hill to another across a deep valley. This becomes still more necessary,
when it is considered that the pressure is besides in proportion to the
square of the height of the water, that is to the perpendicular depth of
the valley, below the beginning of the pipe. It is a common opinion
that the ancients were ignorant that water, in a close pipe, would rise
to the level of the source; and this prejudice was carried so far that
commentators on Vitruvius, Frontinus, and other ancient writers who
treat on this subject, charged them with using language devoid of
meaning. That this opinion was entirely unfounded, however, has been
shown in many cases, but particularly by the very important discovery,
made in the middle of last century, of large and strong leaden pipes
laid by the Romans, for a course of many miles, over great inequality of
ground, to convey water to the city of Lyons in the south of France.
That this was not, however, the general practice, is evident from the pro-
digious works constructed by the ancients, for conveying water along
ranges of arches or aqueduct-bridges, of which the remains still astonish
the eye. The country round Rome is particularly distinguished by these
monuments of splendid utility; some of them, stretching for miles to-
gether to the hills, are still so entire, after a lapse of two thousand years,
as to convey abundant streams of water to different quarters of the
town. It is not merely on account of the pressure of the water that the
pipes should be strengthened in hollows; a certain quantity air is
always carried along with the water, which, accumulating in the lowest


HYDRAULICS.
85

parts, acts so powerfully as frequently to burst the pipe, when no other
way is opened for its escape.
Syphon. This is a bent pipe usually employed to draw off liquors
from a cask, &c. by making the fluid rise above the level of the surface
in the vessel. Take a small pipe bent into two legs of exactly the same
length; fill it with water, -and turn the two ends downwards precisely
to the same level; in this case the water will not run out, but remain
suspended in both. If however the pipe be held to one side, so that one
end of the pipe shall be a little lower than the level of the other, the
water will immediately flow from the lower mouth, and empty the
whole pipe. The cause of this is the following. Common air is a fluid
of which the density and weight, on the surface of the earth, is found
by experiment to be to that of water, at a medium about as 1 to 820,
so that 1 gallon of water is as heavy as 820 gallons of air on the earth's
surface. Now the air, like every other fluid pressing equally in all di-
rections, when the two legs of the syphon are turned down to the same
level, the weight of the atmosphere above being kept off by the middle
of the machine, the air below bearing up the water in both ends, and of
the same weight, it falls out of neither. If however one of the legs be
brought to a lower level than the other, thus in fact lengthening the
lower and shortening the upper leg, the balance is destroyed, and the
water in the lowest or longest leg will of course preponderate and run
out. For this reason, in practice the legs of the syphon are made of
unequal lengths. To make a syphon act, as for instance in drawing the
liquor out of a cask upon a cart, both legs are filled with the liquor, and
the ends stopped with the finger; the short leg is then quickly intro-
duced by the bung-hole into the liquor in the cask, and the long leg
hangs down on the outside to the vessel to receive the liquor. In this
position the finger is removed from the end of the long leg, and the
liquor continues to flow through the syphon, as long as the short
leg continues dipped in it. Instead of filling the legs with the li-
quor, some syphons have a pipe attached to the long leg, and turn-
ed upwards, by which a person sucking out the air, will make the
liquor follow over the bend of the machine and flow as before. If
the perpendicular height of a syphon from the surface of the water
to the bent part be more than thirty-three feet, it will draw no wa-
ter; for the weight of such a column of water is equal to that of a
column of air reaching to the upper surface of our atmosphere.
Mercury may also be drawn, on the same principle, by a syphon,
provided the perpendicular height of the short leg do not exceed twenty-
nine inches; because a column of mercury of this height, is equally heavy
with one of water thirty-three feet high; mercury appearing by the
table of specific gravities, given under hydrostatics, to be to water,
as 13.57 to 1. One great advantage of the syphon is, that, being ap-
plied to the upper part of the liquor in the cask, the whole may be
drawn off, without disturbing the sediment. Water in a close pipe,
it was before observed, may be conveyed down into hollow ground,
and will again rise nearly to the level of the source.
But if an open-
ing be made in the pipe, when in the lowest position, and a short up-
right pipe be fixed in it, the water will be thrown up to a height pro-
portioned to the pressure in the pipe, and to the resistance of the air.
In this way fountains or jets-d-eau are formed.
The Pump. This the most common, and the most useful of hydrau-
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lic machines, is said to have been invented by Ctesibius, a philosopher
of Alexandria in Egypt, about 120 years before the christian era ; but,
since the nature and action of the air have been understood, the pump,
in its various applications, has been brought to great perfection.
These machines are divided into sucking, lifting, and forcing pumps.
The sucking pump was so named, because it was supposed, by its ac-
tion, to draw up the water in the pipe. This notion is however now
known to be erroneous; the water in the pipe being forced to rise by
the pressure of the external water in the well or cistern, as is ex-
plained under the head of Pneumatics. Suppose a long pipe perfectly
air-tight be closed at one end, and then filled with water; if the open
end be turned down into a vessel of water, the fluid in the pipe will
run into the vessel, until the upper part come to about thirty-three feet
above the surface of the water in the vessel, and there it will stop. If
instead of water a small glass tube or pipe three feet long, and closed
at one end, be filled with mercury or quick-silver, and then placed up-
right in a vessel of mercury, the fluid in the pipe will run down until
the upper part come to 294 or 30 inches above the surface of that in
the vessel. The air having been excluded from both pipes, the water
and the mercury have no air above them to counteract the pressure of
that resting on the fluid in the vessel; consequently each is supported
in the pipe, at such a height that its weight is equal to that of the ex-
ternal air. Hence we find, that a column of water thirty-three feet
high, and one of mercury of twenty-nine or thirty inches high, are equal.
in weight to a similar column of common air. These heights of the
water and mercury, are however subject to variations, according to the
density and consequent pressure of the atmosphere. Those of water
have been less observed than those of mercury, which has perhaps never
been known to rise to thirty-one inches, nor to sink to twenty-eight
inches; hence twenty-nine one-half inches may be taken for the me-
dium height. The celebrated Italian philosopher Galileo was the first
to observe that water could not be raised, by what was called suction,
above thirty-three feet, and his pupil Torricelli, considering that mer-
cury was nearly fourteen times heavier than water, employed that
fluid, which accordingly stood at a corresponding height in the pipe of
29 inches. A square column of mercury, of 1 inch a side, and 294
inches high, weighs just 15 pounds; consequently the air presses with
a weight of 15 pounds on every square inch of the surface of the
earth, and 144 times as much upon every square foot. The common
sucking pump, consists of a pipe of wood or metal open at both ends;
in the pipe a rod is made to be moved up and down by the handle act-
ing on a joint or crank. At the lower end of the rod is fixed a small
circular box, called the piston, fitted with soft leather, so as just
to fill the bore of the pipe, to prevent any air from passing down
between the piston and the sides. In the middle of the piston, and on
its upper surface is fastened, by a hinge on one side, a lid opening up-
wards like a trap-door. When the piston is pushed downwards by the
rod, this light lid, or valve, is raised up by the resistance of the air be-
low it, which consequently rises above the piston, and on drawing up
the rod, the valve, from the resistance of the air above it, is closely
shut down. The column of air in the pipe above the piston is thus
raised up, while that below having now a large space to fill, becomes
rarer and lighter than before; and the lower end of the pipe being
1

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HYDRAULICS.
37
碧
​placed under the surface of the water in the well, no external air can
come into the pipe to restore the balance. By each stroke of the piston
therefore the air below the piston becomes rarer and lighter, conse-
quently, the water in the well being less pressed upon within than with-
out the pump, it must gradually ascend in the pipe, until it rise so
high as to be touched by the piston in its descent. When it sinks into
the water the valve is found upwards, the water rises above the piston ·
which, when drawn upwards, causes the valve to shut, the water
above it is prevented from passing down again and is therefore pulled
up by the piston. By repeated strokes of the rod in this way, more
and more water is collected above the valve; and at last it rises to the
head of the pump, where it flows out for use. As a column of water
thirty-three feet high, is equal to a column of air, the water under the
piston cannot rise in the pipe above that height; and indeed, from the
friction of the pipe and the variations of the weight of the air, water
in the sucking-pipe is seldom raised above twenty-eight feet: but when
it is once collected above the piston or bucket, it may afterwards be
drawn up in the pipe to any height proportioned to the power employed.
The water being thus raised by the alternate motions of the piston, the
stream at the top must flow very irregularly. It is therefore conve-
nient to have, at the head, a cistern to receive the water from the
strokes, and having a small pipe in the side, by which the water will
be discharged with a constant regular stream. The sucking-pump is
usually made of two pipes, the upper part, called the barrel, is of a
wider bore than the lower part or suction-pipe, which enters the well;
and at the joining of the two is another valve, also opening upwards,
which greatly assists in the working of the pump. This pump acts ac-
cordingly, not only by drawing off the air from the surface of the water in
the pipe, but also by pulling up the fluid collected above the valve: in
this case it acts as a lifting-pump. The forcing-pump acts upon a dif-
ferent principle. In the suction-pipe is a valve opening upwards, and
a little above this valve is a pipe communicating with a vessel on one
side. The piston of the pump is solid, and made to fit the bore exactly.
Suppose this piston pushed down until it rest on the valve of the suc-
tion-pipe: if it be now drawn up, it will raise the air above it, and
create a void below it: the air below the valve will now open it and
fill the void, and at last the water will follow and rise above the valve,
which, when the piston ceases to ascend, will close and keep the water
from going back into the well. The solid piston being again pushed
down, it will press upon the water above the valve, which can escape
only through the side pipe into the reservoir. In the top of this reser-
voir is fixed a small pipe, through which the water will at last be
thrown up, with a force proportioned to the working power of the
pump. This power acts only by sudden jerks: but by a very ingeni-
ous apparatus within the reservoir, in which the spring of the air is
employed, the stream from the pipe is made to flow with an equal and
regular force. The common fire-engine is of this sort, and that used
for watering gardens; only they have two working-barrels, producing
a more equal and powerful supply of water, The various combinations
and improvements of these three simple powers of a pump, are by far
too numerous to be here mentioned. One of the most important is the
pump for drawing the water collected in the hold of a ship. The
many fatal accidents that happen to ships, from the choking of the
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38
1
HYDRAULICS.
pumps, render the perfection of this machine an object of infinite con-
sequence in sea affairs. The chain-pump, which is usually employed
in British ships, consists of two square or cylindrical barrels, through
which passes à chain, having a number of flat valves fixed upon it at
proper distances; and the chain runs over a wheel at the end of the
pump. These valves bring up each a quantity of water; and, as the
machine is worked with briskness, a constant stream is made to rise in
the pump. The disadvantages of this machine are, however, not much
compensated by its being less liable to be choked with sand or other
substances, than the sucking-pump. On this account Buchanan's
pump was some time ago contrived, which, like the common pump,
acts by the pressure of the atmosphere. By it the sand or other mat-
ters in the water are thrown out, without choking the piston or hurt-
ing the barrels; and should any obstruction happen, the valves are
both within the reach of a man's hand, and may be speedily cleared:
the machine may also be used to extinguish a fire on board the ship;
and the same principle is applicable to a variety of uses on shore.
Steam-Engine. This machine, in its present highly-improved state,
is one of the most noble and useful monuments of human ingenuity.
It is now applied to various purposes; but as its original destination
was to draw up water from coal-pits and mines, it may still be ranked
among hydraulic engines. The first notice we have of this admirable
machine is in a small book intitled A Century of Inventions, published
in 1663 by the Marquis of Worcester. Thirty years afterwards Cap-
tain Savary obtained a patent for constructing steam-engines; which
were afterwards much improved by Newcomen, &c. until at last, in
1762, Mr. Watt of Glasgow, since of Birmingham, turned his thoughts
to the subject; in consequence of which, steam-engines are now brought
as nearly to perfection as can reasonably be expected. The principles
of the steam engine are in themselves simple; but it has required
many trials and great ingenuity to bring them to act in the most bene-
ficial manner. If water be heated in a close vessel, a few degrees above
the point at which it would boil in the open air, it is then converted
into steam or vapour, elastic uniform and transparent, not half the
weight of common air, greatly exceeding in bulk the water from which
it was produced and, on account of its elasticity or spring, capable of
acting with great force on surrounding bodies. Suppose, in a vessel of
boiling water, a frame of wood like a solid piston be placed, communi-
cating by a metal rod, with one end of a beam or lever moving on a
central support. When the water is sufficiently heated, steam or va-
pour will be formed which, having no other way to escape will, by its
elasticity, press against the piston, and force it upwards. The end of
the beam connected with the piston will of course be forced upwards,
and the opposite end, which is made heaviest, will sink down. Sup-
pose again, that when things are in this state, by the application of cold
to the vessel containing the hot vapour, it be cooled and consequently
condensed, the vapour will be once more brought back to its former
state of water. This water occupying but a small space in compari-
son of the vapour, a great vacuum or void will be formed between the
surface of the water and the piston, now standing at the top of the boiler.
In this case the air will press forcibly on the upper part of the piston,
and thrust it down within the boiler, until it again come into contact
with the water, and the opposite end of the beam will be drawn up-


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HYDRAULICS.
39
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wards. By the action of the fire fresh vapour is produced in the
boiler, which forces up the piston, and makes the opposite end of the
beam again descend; and by a second application of cold, the vapour is
again brought back to water, a vacuum is formed in the boiler, the piston
is pushed down by the air, and the beam-end again rises. By this re-
petition of heat and cold the beam is made to acquire a recriprocating
motion, and at the opposite heavy end a piston-rod may be made to
work as in a common pump. Simple as these facts really are, in con-
structing the machine, a multitude of important difficulties were to be
surmounted; and it was by attention to these that Watt's engines have
been brought to their present perfection. As his machines work by a
double stroke, both up and down, it is necessary to employ not chains
but rods fixed to the ends of the beam: to make these move perpendi-
cularly very ingenious machinery was adapted, consisting chiefly of
what are called the parallel-joint and the sun-and-planet wheels. By
these contrivances a motion perfectly equable is given to the machine,
by which it is now applied to purposes which formerly could be an-
swered only by wheel-work. In various parts of England and Scotland,
and in North America, passage-boats of large dimensions are made to
go upon rivers and canals by means of steam-engines moving machinery ;
and that with great velocity, even against wind and tide. Important
additions to Watt's engine have lately been made by Mr. Cartwright.
To show the power of the steam-engine, it will be sufficient to observe
that one of Watt's construction having a condensing cylinder thirty-
one inches in diameter, and making seventeen double strokes in a mi-
nute, performs the work of forty horses working night and day (for
which three relays, or 120 horses must be kept) and burns 11,000
pounds of Staffordshire coal every day. A cylinder of nineteen inches
diameter, making twenty-five strokes of four feet each in a minute,
performs the work of twelve horses, (that is to say, of thirty-six horses
divided into three relays, each twelve at a time,) working constantly,
and burns 3,700 pounds of coal in a day. A cylinder of twenty-four
inches diameter, making twenty-two strokes of five feet, burns 5,500
pounds of coal, and is equal in power to the constant work of twenty
horses. The ingenious Mr. Boulton of Birmingham applied the steam-
engine to work the machine used in coining money, as now practised
in the new mint lately erected on Tower-Hill, London. This admir-
able machine, by the help of only four boys, is capable of striking off
thirty thousand pieces of money in the short space of one hour; besides
which, the apparatus itself is so constructed as to keep an accurate ac-
count of the number of pieces struck off.

Explanation of Figures.
Plate III. Fig. 1. is the lifting-pump, of which AB is the body or
barrel having small openings at the lower end to keep out stones or
other things that might injure the machine. At a is a valve opening
upwards: at b is the piston, having also a valve opening upwards
This piston is moved up and down by a rod. Both it and the lower
valve must be under the surface of the water, which, when the piston.
is pushed down, shuts the lower valve, and rises above the upper.
When the piston is drawn up, the water above it is lifted with it; and
by repeating the motion, at last it rises to the top of the pump, and flows
out by the spout C.
10
HYDRAULICS.
Plate III, Fig. 2. represents the forcing-pump, in which AB is the
barrel, and C is the piston or forcer. At D and S are two fixed valves,
so fitted as to allow the water freely to rise above them, but totally to
prevent its falling back. When the piston is drawn up, the air below
being rarefied, the water rises, and fills the space between D and S:
but when the piston descends, the water has no other way to escape,
but through the valve S into the strong capacious vessel V, closed at
the top by a small pipe reaching nearly to the bottom. The air in the
vessel being crowded into a small space by the water forced into it, acts
reciprocally on the water, forcing it up in a continued stream through
the pipe.
Fig. 3. is a section of Watt's improved stream-engine in
which A is the boiler, B the steam-pipe conveying the steam to the cy-
linder C, in which works the piston D. The steam-valves are a and c.
The condenser e is a separate vessel placed in a cistern of cold water,
having a jet continually playing up within it. At d is an air-pump,
worked by a rod from the great beam at b. To make the engine open
and shut the steam and eduction-valves, levers are attached to them at
E and F, which are moved by the piston-rod of the air-pump. At kis
another pump worked by the engine, to supply cold water to the cis-
tern, in which the condenser is placed. To communicate a rototary mo-
tion to any machinery to which the steam-engine is adapted, Mr. Watt's
invented the sun-and-planet wheels GH and L, by which the alternate
jerking motion of the beam is entirely avoided.
SECT. III.
1
PNEUMATICS.
Pneumatics are properly that branch of the science of Natural Philo
sophy, which treats of the properties of all sorts of air in general; but
we employ the term, in common language, to express only the mecha-
nical, and not the chemical or medicinal properties of elastic fluids in
the form of air. Air in general is the fluid substance in which we breathe
and live: it entirely envelopes our globe, extending to a considerable,
but unknown distance from it, in all directions; together with the
clouds and vapours floating in it, we call it the atmosphere. Air differs
from all other fluids (substances of which the particles have very little
cohesion, and are, therefore, easily separated from each other, even by
the action of gravity) in these particulars: 1. It can be compressed into
a space much more contracted than that which it naturally occupies: 2.
It cannot be frozen or congealed into a solid body, as other fluids may be:
3. It is of a different density (that is, its particles are situated at different
distances asunder) as it is more or less remote from the surfaceof the earth,
decreasing in weight, bulk for bulk, the higher it extends : 4. It is elas-
tic, or of a springy nature, so that if it be compressed, and again be set at
liberty, it will return to its former bulk with a force equal to its weight.
Being transparent in all directions, air must of necessity be impercep-
tible by our eyes; but in swinging the hand quickly up and down
+

*
HYDRAULICS.
41
1
or sideways, we feel distinctly that we are separating the parts of some
substance; the feeling is just of the same sort, although much more
feeble, as that perceived in moving the hand through water. A whip
or small stick moved rapidly through the air, is evidently bent, and
occasions a sound; showing by both that it meets with resistance from
the air. The effects of a fan, and of fanners to clean corn, are too fa-
miliar to be noticed. If a bladder be blown up, and the neck left
open, you may squeeze the sides together, and press it into any shape.
If again it be blown up, and the neck tied so tight that no air can get
out, you will find that no pressure can bring the sides together; and
that no great violence will be necessary to make the bladder burst with
a loud explosion. If the side of a full-blown bladder be pressed with
the finger, a dent may be made in it: but remove the finger, and the
dent will instantly disappear. These experiments clearly show that
within the bladder is a substance elastic, and therefore capable of com-
pression to a certain point, beyond which it will sooner break from its
confinement than be forced into less space. The common bellows
show powerfully the substantiality of air. Two boards are connected
together by leathers made air-tight, and capable of stretching and con-
tracting within certain bounds. At one end of the leather is fixed a
pipe, and in the under board is a flap or valve opening inwards. When
the bellows lie shut, but little air is within them; but if the upper
board be a little raised, the air within, swelling into greater bulk, be-
comes too rare or thin and light to resist the pressure of the external air,
which will of course rush in through the pipe and at the valve, which
will be thus compelled to open inwards to give it admission. When
the bellows are opened to the utmost, and kept in that state, the air
without and within being new of equal density, no motion in it will
take place. Begin now to press down the upper board: the air within
being pressed together, will act upon the valve, shutting it close, so
that no air can escape that way: it must therefore pass out through the
pipe or nozzle in a stream more or less powerful as the boards of the
bellows are pressed together with more or less quickness: and this vio-
lence of the stream, and the force required to produce it, will leave no
doubt that air is a real substantial body It may be proper to observe
here, although a little out of its place, that common air being necessary
to the burning of fuel, in kindling a fire, to place the nozzle of the
bellows close to the grate, and to blow with violence, are very errone-
OUS. A gentle stream of air coming from some moderate distance,
will cherish the feeble spark, and the stream may be increased as the
process of inflammation advances. Air at rest pressing, like all other
fluids, equally in all directions, we can move in it as we choose, and
are, therefore, insensible of its existence; but when it is in motion, it
becomes perceptible, and is then called wind; the violence and dread-
ful effects of which, on land as well as on sea, are too notorious to re-
quire specification. To give the reader, however, some accurate no-
tion, as far as can be done in the present work, of the rapidity and force
of the wind, in different circumstances, the following table is introdu-
ced. In the fifty-first volume of the Philosophical Transactions of the
Royal Society of London, are given the results of experiments, made
by the late eminent engineer Mr. Smeaton, on the velocities of winds:
to these is here added a column showing the force or impulse of the

;
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42
PNEUMATICS.
wind, acting upon a surface of a square foot, erected perpendicularly to
its current, and measured in pounds avoirdupoise.


Velocity of wind.
Miles in
one
Hour.
128
4
5
10
15
20
25
30
35
40
45
50
60
80
100
Feet in one
Second.
1.47
2.93
4.40
5.87
7.33
14.67
22.00
29.34
36.67
44.01
51.34
58.68
66.01
73.35
88.02
117.36
146.70
Force on one square
Foot in pounds.
.005....
.020
.044
.079
.123
.492
1.017
1.968
3.075
4.429
6.027
7.873
9.963
12.300
17.715S
31.490....
49.200....
Names of Winds.
Hardly perceptible
Light Airs
Fine Breeze
Brisk Gale
Fresh Gale
Strong Gale
Hard Gale
Storm
Hurricane
Do. overturning Buildings
tearing up trees, &c.
By this statement we see, that when the motion of the air, or the
wind, is so gentle as to be hardly perceptible, its velocity is computed
to be at the rate of one mile in an hour, or nearly one foot and a half
in one second. If a board, one foot square, be hung up in the current,
it will be acted upon by a force equal to five thousandth parts of a
pound avoirdupoise, not quite two drachms. In a brisk gale the wind
travels from ten to fifteen miles in the hour, or from fourteen and a half
to twenty-two feet in the second. In the first rate of motion its force
or impulse on the board is nearly as half a pound, but in the second rate
it exceeds a whole pound. The most furious hurricane of the West
Indies is computed to rush forward at the prodigious rate of 100 miles
in an hour, or nearly 147 feet in a second; and its impulse upon a foot
square of surface, opposed to its violence, is upwards of forty-nine
pounds: that firmly-rooted trees, and well-compacted buildings, are
unable to resist the assaults of such a wind, will therefore occasion no
surprise the miseries of the forlorn mariner, involved in its destruc-
tive course, may be better conceived than expressed.
Air-Pump. Air being a real substantial fluid, it may be drawn off
from any vessel like any other fluid. This is done by means of the
air-pump, a machine operating in the same way with a common
lifting pump in water. The air-pump was first brought into effect by
Otto Guericke, of Magdeburg in Germany, in 1654: but since his
time, very material improvements have been made in the application

PNEUMATICO.
49
as well as the construction of the machine, especially by our country-
men Robert Boyle and Dr. Hooke. The air-pump, now in general
use, is constructed in the following manner. On a strong square
wooden frame, and near the right side, are erected two strong brass
cylindrical pipes, or working-barrels. In each barrel is a rod and
piston having a valve opening upwards. Between the tops of the rods.
above the barrel, is fixed a winch, with a pinion which works in teeth
cut in the rods or racks; and by the motion of the winch backwards
and forwards, the rods are alternately moved up and down in the
barrels. Near the barrels on the frame is applied a brass plate, ground
perfectly even, having, in the centre, one end of a brass pipe, of
which the other communicates, through the frame, with the bottom of
the barrels, and ending outwardly, where is a cock to open or shut it
at pleasure. Upon this brass plate stands a glass vessel, bell-shaped,
with the rim downwards, and ground so even that, when rubbed with
grease, the glass may unite so closely with the plate, that no air can
enter between them: this vessel is called a receiver. The receiver be-
ing thus fitted to the plate, and the cock at the outer end of the cum-
municating-pipe being shut, the machine is ready for operation. Let
one of the pistons be drawn up to the top of its barrel, and the other
be pushed down to the bottom. By turning the winch, the top piston
will be thrust down, and the bottom piston will be drawn
up. The
valves being light and easily raised, the air in the barrel will rise above
the descending piston; and, as it rises, the valve shutting will bring
up and discharge from the top of the barrel all the air above it. Turn-
ing the winch the contrary way, the other piston will be drawn up, and
discharge a like quantity of air. In this manner, by the alternate
action of the two pumps, the air in the glass receiver and the brass
tube, will be exhausted; so much so, that unless the receiver be
strong, it will not be able to resist the pressure of the external air,
having no air within to counterbalance it. It is to be observed,
however, that entirely to exhaust the air, or to produce an absolute va-
cuum, by the pump, is impracticable. Allowing it were possible
to construct the whole machine, and to fit the pistons to the barrels,
with such precision as that no air could force its way in; still, as in
the descent of the piston, unless the air below the valve be suf
ficiently dense to lift it, and so rise above the piston, no more air can
be drawn off. Hence it will be evident, that to produce a perfect void,
or totally to exhaust the air from a receiver, must be beyond our
power. When the receiver is first fitted on the plate, it may be re-
moved with the same ease as it was placed; but if the air be exhaust-
ed, it cannot be taken off without a force equivalent to the pressure of
the external air over its whole surface. As light as air is a common
saying: air, however, is of greater weight than is generally supposed.
Take a thin hollow copper ball, or a thin glass flask, such as is used
to hold Florence oil: suppose each of these, or any other similar vessel,
to hold a wine quart: weigh the vessel exactly when filled with air, and
applying it to the air-pump, exhaust the air, stop up the mouth, and
again weigh the vessel when empty. The difference between these
weights will be found to be about sixteen grains, being the weight of a
quart of air. The density and weight of the air are, however, liable to
very consideráble variations from different causes. When the mercury
in the barometer stands at twenty-nine one half inches, the weight of
Y
•


44
PNEUMATICS.
:
1
the air upon a square inch of the earth's surface is fifteen pounds; whẹn
it falls so low as to twenty-eight inches, the weight on a square inch is
not quite fourteen one-fourth pounds, and when it rises to thirty-one inches
the air will press on each square inch with a weight of fifteen pounds
three quarters. Supposing the surface of the body of a middle sized
man to measure fourteen square feet, or 2016 square inches, he sustains
a pressure, (at the medium weight of air of fifteen pounds on each
square inch,) of 30,240 lb. Troy, or eleven tons two cwt. eighteen one-
half lb. But the air pressing equally on all sides, within the body as
well as without, no action is produced upon the fibres, so as to derange
them, but rather to brace them together, and keep each in its proper
place, consequently no sensation of pressure or weight can be excited.
The fish is no more exposed to be crushed by the weight of the water
above when lying in the depths of the sea, than when within a few
inches of the surface. In the surgical operation called cupping, a num-
ber of small shallow openings are made in the skin, but little or no
blood follows the wounds. A cup or small vessel in which some tow
or light combustible substance is set on fire, is inverted over the place.
The fire consumes the air in the cup, which is then closely applied to
the skin; and the pressure of the air being thus taken off from that
part, while it acts with full force on all the other parts of the body, the
blood is forced out through the small punctures made by the instru-
ment.

As all the parts of the atmosphere gravitate or press upon each other,
we can easily conceive why the air should be denser or more compress-
ed near to them at a distance from the earth. Let a quantity of fine
light wool be thrown gently into a pit until it be filled. The wool in
the bottom, having the weight of the whole quantity to support, will
be compressed into less thickness than an equal quantity lying in the
middle of the depth of the pit, while that near the top will occupy nearly
as much room as the light parcels as first dropped in. The same is the
case with our air or the atmosphere: consequently, if we were to make
experiments on the weight of the air, taken at regular equal distances
upwards from the surface of the earth, this weight would be found to
diminish according to a stated proportion. This proportion has been
computed to be such that if the heights from the earth be taken in
arithmetical proportion, the rarity of the air will be in geometrical pro-
portion: or, in other words, if the height be doubled, the rarity will be
as the square of the first rarity. If the height be tripled, the rarity
will be as the cube, and so on. Gravity or weight being in proportion
to the number of particles of matter, contained within a given space, as
these particles are placed nearer to, or farther from, each other, the
body they compose is said to be more or less dense or thick, and less or
more rare or thin. The thinness or rarity of the air increasing as we
rise in it, agreeably to the foregoing proportion, it follows that what-
ever be the rarity of the air on the surface of the earth, at a height of
34 miles the rarity of the air will be doubled, or its weight will be
reduced to one half: at seven miles of height, the rarity will be four
times greater, or the weight will be reduced to one-fourth of that on the
earth, &c. This fact is not known from theory only, for it has been
confirmed by experiments made on the most elevated mountains in the
world; as on the summit of Mont Blane in the Alps, which rises very
nearly three English miles above the level of the sea.
PNEUMATICS.
45
1
1
The Barometer. The column of mercury supported by the pressure
of the atmosphere in a tube devoid of air is of different heights according
to that pressure, or to the weight of the external air; hence the machine
obtained the name of barometer, from Greek words signifying the
weight-measurer. It was also observed, that variations in the length of the
column of mercury, seemed to be generally accompanied by variations
in the state of the weather: hence the machine was called the weather-
glass. The barometer consists of a straight glass tube or pipe a quarter
or rather one-third of an inch in diameter, and thirty-four inches
long. It is hermetically sealed at one end (that is, the end is closed by
melting the sides together) and made perfectly clean and dry. A
quantity of the purest mercury is poured into the tube, and by placing
a finger on the open end, when it is full, the tube is turned downwards,
and sunk below the surface of mercury placed in a small bason. The
finger being now removed, the mercury in the tube will sink down till
it be in weight equal to that of an equal column of air pressing on the
surface of the mercury in the bason. By this sinking, a space of four
or five inches or so, will be left in the upper part of the tube, above
the mercury, entirely free from air, and therefore a perfect vacuum is
produced, in which the fluid may rise or fall without obstruction. The
tube and bason are then attached to a frame, on the upper part of
which is a portion of a scale of inches and tenths, accurately measured
from the surface of the mercury in the bason.


The Thermometer. As the mercury may be influenced in its rise and
fall, by the heat or cold, as well as by the weight of the atmosphere
another instrument should be attached to the barometer, to indicate the
variations of temperature in respect to heat and cold. This instru-
ment, called a thermometer, from Greek terms signifying a heat-measurer,
resembles the barometer in being a glass tube of a small bore, blown
up at one end into a ball or bulb. The bulb and a part of the tube be-
ing filled with mercury, the other end is melted together. Mercury
is employed in this instrument, because it expands or enlarges its bulk
when exposed to heat, more equably than any other fluid. Of this in-
strument various kinds are in use; but that employed in this country
is Fahrenheit's, so called from the inventor of its scale. In measuring
the degrees of heat, the standard points are those of freezing and boil-
ing water, which are constantly the same in all parts of the world.-
The point of the tube at which the upper surface of the mercury stands,
when immersed in freezing water, is marked on the scale thirty-two
parts or degrees, and observing to what height the mercury rises, when
immersed in boiling water, the distance between the two is divided
into 180 equal parts, which added to thirty-two, give 212 for the
height at the heat of boiling water in the open air. Water cannot be
made colder in the open air than thirty-two parts or degrees, because,
at that temperature it ceases to be a fluid, being converted into ice
nor hotter than 212 degrees, because at that temperature it loses the
form of water, and is converted into vapour or steam. The reason why
the temperature of freezing water was fixed at thirty-two degrees, was,
that Fahrenheit found the most intense cold he could produce was by
mixing snow and salt together. Placing the thermometer in this mix-
ture, the point to which the mercury sunk, he marked O, as the
beginning of his sclale; and the space between this point and that
at which the mercury stood, when placed in freezing water, was found
;
46
PNEUMATICS.
to contain thirty-two of those equal parts, of which 180 filled up the
space between the points of freezing and boiling water. But much
more intense cold can now be produced, than was formerly imagined
by the mixture of substances which dissolve rapidly; such are neutral
salts dissolved in water, diluted acids and some neutral salts, snow or
pounded ice, and some salts; and a number of equal parts or degrees
being reckoned downwards on the scale from O or zero, the degress of
cold may be measured as those of heat upon the upper part of the scale,
A mixture of eight parts of sulphat of soda (formerly called Glauber's
salts) with five parts of muriatic acid (or acid of sea-salt) will sink
the mercury in the thermometer from 50 dregrees to O; that is, will
produce a cold 32° below that of freezing water. If 2 parts of snow or
pounded ice be mixed with 1 part of common salt, the mercury will
sink to 5º below O, and the temperature is then expressed thus-5°,
the algebraic sign-or minus denoting that the degree of cold is less
than that at the beginning of the scale. If three parts of muriat of
lime (or fixed sal-ammoniac) be mixed with 2 parts of snow, the fluid
in the thermometer will sink from 32° above O to-50° below it; but
the most intense cold hitherto known has been produced by mixing
10 parts of sulphuric acid (or oil of vitriol) diluted, with 8 parts of
snow, by which the fluid will sink to-91° or 123 degrees below
freezing water. To measure the intenseness of cold of this sort,
spirits of wine or some essential oil must be employed instead of mer-
cury, which itself freezes and becomes solid when the temperature falls
to thirty-nine degrees below O. Nor can mercury measure heat greater
than 660 degrees, for there it boils and is converted into vapour. The
thermometer in general use in France and other parts of the continent,
was invented by the celebrated naturalist Réaumur: in it the point of
freezing water is the beginning of the scale or zero, and the space up to
boiling water is divided into eighty equal parts. Later philosophers
abroad have divided that space into 100 equal parts, whence the ther-
mometer is said to be centigrade. As considerable embarrassment is
often occasioned by these different modes of measuring the temperature
of the air and other bodies, the following rule for converting Reaumur's
degrees into Fahrenheit's will be useful. Multiply the number of
degrees of heat shown by Reaumur by 9, divide the product by 4,
and to the quotient add 32, and the sum will be the degrees on
Fahrenheit; and by reversing the operation degrees or the latter will
be turned into those on the former. On our common thermometers
different points of heat are marked, as at thirty-two degrees freezing;
at fifty-five degrees temperate, at seventy-six degrees summer heat;
at ninety-eight degrees blood-heat; at 112 degrees fever-heat; at
176 degrees alcohol (spirit of wine) boils; and at 212 degrees water
boils.


How far our atmosphere may extend beyond the surface of the
earth is unknown; it is observed, however, that the sun's rays pas-
sing through it at an elevation of forty-five degrees undergo no sen-
sible refraction; so that the air at that point must be at least incon-
ceivably rare. Nevertheless, meteors (balls of fire and shooting stars
as they are called,) have been observed at an elevation of seventy or
eighty miles, and most probably have been within the bounds of our
atmosphere. Clouds seldom rise above 2 miles above the level of
the sea; for there the atmosphere is equally rare with themselves.
PNEUMATICS.
47
If a lighted candle be placed under the receiver of the air-pump, it
will burn as long as the air is sufficient for its support, and when it
goes out, the smoke will mount up and remain in the top of the
receiver like a cloud. If now the air be extracted by the
pump the
smoke will gradually sink down to the bottom of the receiver, leav-
ing the top perfectly clear. This experiment exhibits the cause of the
rise and fall of clouds and vapours in the atmosphere, and that smoke
is not devoid of weight. A piece of wood floats upon water; yet no
one ever concluded wood to possess no real weight or gravity.
**
Air differs from water and other liquid substances in this particular,
that to whatever quantity it may be reduced and extracted, the remain-
der in the vessel will always completely fill it. This is caused by the
very great elasticity or spring of its particles, which makes them de-
part from each other in all directions, in proportion as pressure is re-
moved. If three quarts of air be pumped out of a vessel holding a
gallon, the remaining quart will expand over the whole space of the vessel;
if on the contrary the vessel be filled with water, and three quarts drawn
off, the remaining quart will just occupy the same space as when the
vessel was full. In this manner air may be rarified or made thin: in a
similar way, on account of its elasticity, it may be condensed or made
thick, and be compressed into less space than it usually occupies. The
machine by which this is done is called a condenser: it consists of a
brass barrel containing a piston, with a valve opening downwards; so
that when it is drawn up the air above passes through it, and when it
is pushed down the valve shuts, and the air below is forced through a
valve in the bottom of the barrel into a tube communicating with the
receiver placed on the frame. Thus at every stroke of the piston more
air is driven into the receiver, made of very thick strong glass, and
kept down upon the plate by a strong wooden frame and screws.
is by the strong spring of air, when greatly condensed, that the air-gun
works. A hallow ball, into which a great quantity of air has been forced,
is so connected with the lock, that, when the hammer moves, a portion
of the air rushes into the barrel and expels the bullet with very consider-
able force. The air in the ball may be sufficient for several successive
discharges; but as the air becomes at each rarer and rarer, this force, it
is plain, will proportionably decrease.
L
It
Winds. Water in motion in a current is a river, so air in motion be-
comes wind. If the air were uniformly of the same density, at the
same height, the lighter parts always resting above the heavier, the la-
teral pressure being equal in all horizontal directions, the air would
then always be at rest. On the other hand, if any portion of the air
be heavier than the rest, it will descend, or if lighter it will ascend,
until the balance be restored; whatever cause therefore alters the den-
sity of the air, must of course cause a motion in it, or wind. The den-
sity of air is changed by compression and heat; its elasticity or spring
is increased by moisture; and electricity may have some effect of the
same kind: but the principal cause of wind is certainly heat, by which
the elasticity or repulsive power of the particles of air being increased,
they retire farther and farther from one another. By this process the
number of particles in a given space being diminished, the total gravity
is also lessened; the thin or rare heated air is therefore obliged to give
way before the pressure of the adjacent denser cold air, and a motion
or current, that is wind, is produced, more or less powerful in propor-

}
48
PNEUMATICS.
}
tion to the different densities of the different kinds of air. The different
winds are denominated from the points of the compass from which they
blow; thus a north wind blows south, and an east wind blows west.
They are also divided into variable and trade winds; the latter being
subdivided into permanent and periodical. Permanent trade-winds blow
constantly from the same point, or at least they are subject to very
little variation. Periodical or shifting trade-winds, otherwise called
Monsoons (from an Asiatic term signifying seasons), blow for a certain
time in one direction, and then change to blow from the opposite point
for a certain time. Variable winds, blow occasionally from every quarter
of the heavens, without any regularity or uniformity of duration' or
strength.
The air over that part of the earth where the sun is vertical, is. by
his rays greatly heated and rarified; it therefore rises, and the adjacent
cool air rushes in to supply its place. In consequence however of the
earth's daily rotation on her axis from west to east, the sun apparently
moves in the contrary direction; the rarified air will therefore move
from east to west, and an easterly wind will be excited in the regions
about the equator. Since the same places are brought round under the
sun once every twenty-four hours, the air is not wholly cooled during the
night, and thus a constant stream of air or wind from east to west is
maintained. From the equator to about thirty degrees of latitude on
each side, the wind blows from the eastward, but drawing more from
north-east and south-east, in proportion as the place is situated more or
less towards the north or the south of that line. This is the general
state of the trade-winds, so called because they are of great service to
commerce, by forwarding vessels on their voyages. Within the limits
of the trade-winds, their direction, from local causes, is found to deviate
considerably from the proper east; sometimes indeed even to the op-
posite quarter. Thus upon the coast of Guinea in Africa, although
within the tract of the trade-winds, the wind blows from S. W. to N. W.
The cause of this is, that the soil of that coast being in general sandy,
it becomes extremely hot by the sun's rays; which greatly rarifies the
air over the land, and then the cooler sea-air rushes in from the south
and west to supply its place. At that part of the sea where this
change of direction is perceived, there is generally a calm; and the
air moving away east and west, what remains is unable to support the
vapourse there collected, which accordingly fall down in frequent torrents
of rain, so much so, that those parts are commonly called the Rains. By
the Spaniards and Portuguese, they are called the Ladies' sea, because
gales of wind are there very rare: to the mariner, however, such ealms
are much more distressing than a gale, because they retard his voyage,
and occasion a great waste of time and provisions to no purpose. The
periodical trade-winds or monsoons blow regularly, churing six months,
from one quarter, and during the remaining six months from the op-
posite quarter. These winds prevail chiefly in the ocean on the south
of Asia; for those countries lying on the north side of the equator, are
greatly heated in summer, which occasions the wind to set in north-
ward from the sea; but in the winter months, the air over the sea is
more heated, and the wind again sets southward from the land. The
position of the coasts gives particular directions to these winds; but the
Indian monsoons usually blow from the S. W. during our summer, and
from the N. E. during our winter hence ships going to, or coming from



PNEUMATICS,
49
*3*2
India, know at what times of the year to fall in with these regular
winds. In the warmer regions of the world, and even in the southern
parts of Spain, Italy, Greece, &c. the land, in summer, is so much
heated as to create a current of air to it from the sea; but in the night
time the land is cooled and the air again returns to the sea. These
periodical changes are called the land and the sea breezes; and they
are extremely useful: for they carry a ship into the land in the day-
time when light is necessary, but they carry her out to sea in the night
time, when light is less necessary to guide her course. The sea breeze
generally lasts from ten in the morning to five or six in the evening;
when the land-breeze beginning about seven, lasts to eight in the fol-
lowing morning. There is another kind of periodical, but irregular,
wind, which blows from the western coasts of Africa towards the sea.
By the other nations of Europe this is called simply a NE. wind; bụt
by our seamen it is called the harmattan, a corruption of aherramantah,
the name given by the natives of the coast. This extraordinary wind
comes on at all times of the day, and in all states of the weather; and
it continues from a day or two, to fifteen or sixteen days; returning
three or four times every season, and blowing with much the same force
as the common land and sea-breezes. This peculiar wind is always aç-
companied by a fog or haze, and by extreme dryness; so that vegeta-
bles of every kind are very much injured, and most productions of
the garden are destroyed. It is a remarkable property of this wind,
that although so prejudicial to vegetable, it is highly conducive to ani-
mal health. Persons labouring under agues and dysenteries generally
recover during a harmattan: it stops epidemic diseases, even the small-
pox; and infection is not then easily communicated even by art. To some
distance beyond the limits of the general trade-winds the wind is W. or
between that and SW. without the northern limit; and between W. and
NW. beyond the southern limit. In other parts of the temperate,
and in the frigid zones of the earth, the wind is always fluctuating and
changing from one point to another, without any regard to either
direction or velocity. Whatever may be the cause of winds, and of
their changes, it is ascertained that the cause exists in the quarter to
which, and not from which, they blow. To understand this, we may
refer to a common fact in the motion of water, equally a fluid with air,
and subject to the same laws. Let us suppose a long canal of water,
stopt at one end by a sluice. Until the sluice be opened, the water
all over the canal is at rest; but when it is opened, the nearest water
moves first through the sluice, then the water next farther back, and so
on later and later as the distance from the opening increases; and, last
of all, the water at the opposite end of the canal comes to be in motion.
So that if the canal lay from E. to W. the water at the W. end would be
setting westward, long before that at the E. end began to move.-
Hence it is plain that, in ordinary cases, a wind blowing from E. to
W. will begin to be felt in the western part of its course before it be felt
in the eastern. In mountainous countries, the winds generally rage
with the greatest violence; but the inhabitants are able, from certain
appearances of the clouds, and other circumstances, pretty accurately
to foretel the arrival of great changes in the weather. Thus, at the
town of the Cape of Good Hope, in the southern extremity of Africa,
certain motions and appearances of the clouds, upon the precipitous
hills in the environs, give indications of approaching gales of wind which
U
No. 3.
H
•
t
50
PNEUMATICS.
blow with great violence, and frequently cause great disasters among
the shipping in the bay.
A whirlwind, in the form of a column of smoke, or like a trumpet,
having the wide end upwards, is formed by the air of a certain space
rushing in from every quarter to a centre, whence ascending with
great rapidity, and with a whirling motion, it overturns every thing in
its way, tearing up trees, destroying buildings, shipping, &c. The
whirlwind and the water-spout arise from the same cause, only that the
whirlwind being formed on land, is usually composed of air alone, but
the water-spout being formed at sea, is therefore composed of water.
The most dreadful of all winds, relative to its effects on men and
other animals, is the Samiel, peculiar almost to the sandy deserts of
Arabia, where it prevails from the NW. quarter, in July and August.
In some years it does not blow at all; but in others it appears six or
eight times, seldom, however, continuing longer than a few minutes at
a time, and passing along with the rapidity of lightning. The Ara-
bians and Persians, who are liable to be overtaken by this pestilential
wind, are warned of its approach by a thick haze, like a cloud of dust
rising on the horizon. As soon as this appears, the unhappy travellers
throw themselves with their faces on the ground, and continue in that
position till the blast be gone by, which is very speedily the case; but
if this precaution be neglected, and the full force of the blast be re-
ceived, death instantly ensues. In the south of Italy, and other parts
of the Mediterranean coasts, the hot suffocating Scirocco, or SE. wind,
is extremely inconvenient, notwithstanding it be cooled in traversing
the sea, from the burning sands of Africa.
From the registers of the weather, kept by order of the Royal So-
ciety of London, the average of winds blowing there, for ten years was
as follows:

Winds.
South-west
North-east
West
North-west.
Days.
..112
··
South-east.
58 East
53 South
50 North
Winds.
Days.
32
26
18
16
365
From this it appeared that the SW. wind blew nearly one-third of the
year, and was very frequent in July and August; the NE. prevailed in
January, March, April, May, and June; the NW. from November to
March. On the other hand, on the great continent of the United States
of North America, the NW. blows for 120 days in the year, the NE.
for the same number; the E. for sixty days: and the remaining sixty
days are distributed among the winds of the SE. and SW. quarters.
Of predicting the Weather. Amid the various objects of the pursuits
of natural philosophers, the foretelling of the weather which may at any
time be expected, seems hitherto to have been the least under their
command. No fixed rules for this purpose have ever yet been disco-
vered; yet from the multiplied observations of many ingenious and
scientific men, made with the greatest care and impartiality, several ge-
neral conclusions have been drawn, from which approaching changes
in the weather may, with tolerable accuracy, be foretold. In this ope-

PNEUMATICS.
51
.
ration, the chief assistance is drawn from the barometer, which, on this
account, is commonly called the weather-glass. The mercury seldom
stands still for any length of time; but is continually rising or fall-
ing; and by such variations in its height, furnishes general maxims
for judging of alterations in the atmosphere. Of these rules the fol-
lowing are, perhaps, the most accurate: 1. The rising of the mercury
in the tube of the barometer announces, in general, fair weather,
and its falling, bad weather, according to the season, as rain, wind,
snow, &c. 2. In extremely hot weather, the falling of the mercury
foretels thunder. 3. In the winter months, the rising of the mer-
cury presages frost; and in frosty weather, if the mercury fall a quar-
ter or half an inch or more, a thaw will almost certainly follow. 4. If
bad weather happen almost immediately after the sinking of the mer-
cury, it will not last very long. 5. In bad weather, when the mercury
rises fast and high, and continues to rise for two or three days before
the bad weather be over, then a continuance of fair weather will
probably follow. 6. In fair weather, when the mercury falls for two
or three days or more, then a good deal of wet may be expected, and
probably high winds. 7. The unsettled motion of the mercury denotes
uncertain and changeable weather. After all, in our observations, it is
not so much the real height of the mercury, as its motion up and
down, on which we ought to depend; at the same time that it will
be in constant ascent and descent, for weeks together, without any sen-
sible alteration taking place in the state of the weather.
、
Besides the barometer, other instruments are necessary for the me-
teorologist, viz. the thermometer, the hygrometer, and the pluviometer, or
rain-gauge. The thermometer has already been described: the hygro
meter serves to ascertain the quantity of moisture, or the degree of dry-
ness, in the air, agreeably to the import of the name in the Greek
language. These instruments are of various constructions; some being
of strings of hemp, which shorten in moist weather, and lengthen in
dry. Others are made of the beard or awn of the wild-oat, which, by
twisting and untwisting in moist or dry weather, moves a hand or in-
dex attached to it: others again are made by balancing a large piece of
sponge against a weight; in damp weather the sponge imbibes the mois-
ture, and becomes too heavy for the weight; but in dry weather it re-
turns to the equilibrium. In this manner are constructed the Dutch
toys called weather-houses. The rain-gauge points out the quan-
tity of rain falling on each square foot of the earth's surface in a given
time. A very convenient one is made of a hollow cylinder, spreading
out, as a funnel, at the top. In the cylinder is placed a light and slen-
der wooden stem, fixed to a ball of cork, sufficiently large to float on
water with the stem upon it. The cylinder is then placed in the open
air, where the rain may fall freely into it, which will float the cork,
and the inches and fractions marked on the stem, will show, by its
rising above the funnel, the depth of water fallen into the cylinder in
any given time. At each observation, the water is let off by a cock in
the bottom of the cylinder, and a correct list of the depths at each ob-
servation, will give the total amount of rain fallen irr a month, a
year, &c. at any given place. In using this rain-gauge, the diameter
of the cylinder should be four inches, and that of the funnel twelve
inches. Now as the areas of these plane figures are to one another as
the squares of the diameters, the area of the funnel is to that of the ey


52
PNEUMATICS.
¿
linder or tube, as 144, the square of 12, to 16 the square of 4: that is,
as 9 to 1. If then the water in the tube be raised 9 inches, the rain
fallen on the surface of the funnel, which is the true gauge, will be
raised only one inch. Hence, if the stem be raised 1, 2, 3 inches, or so,
the depth of rain fall on a foot square, will, by,,, &c. of an inch.
A very good common gauge consists of a funnel, containing, at the
opening, an area, of exactly ten square inches, which is set in a common
bottle. The water collected in the bottle is weighed, and for every oz.
of water, 173 thousandth parts (more than of an inch) are to be
allowed for the depth. Thus, if in a given time, 10 ounces of water be
collected in the bottle, this quantity multiplied by the decimal fraction,
.173 will give 1.73, or nearly 13 inch of depth of rain fallen. The
reason of this is, that a gallon of wine measure of rain water, contains
231 cubic inches, and weighs 8 lb. 5 oz. or 1333 oz. consequently,
every ounce of water may be estimated at 1.728 or 1.73 cubic inch.
But as the area of the funnel contains 10 inches, the depth of water on
each will be one-tenth of that quantity, or .173 of an inch.
The quantity of rain that falls in different countries, and even in dif-
ferent quarters of the same country, is very different. In our island
the quantity of rain that falls on the eastern coasts is much less than
that which falls on the western coasts. The same fact is found in Ire-
land, although the quantity falling in that island, in general, greatly ex-
ceeds what falls in Britain.
Places.
At Upsal, in Sweden
Bridgeford Notts
Wittemberg, in Germany
Petersburgh, Russia
Diss, Norfolk
The following table exhibits the observed depth of rain, in English
inches, fallen in the course of a year, at various places, abroad as well as
at home, proceeding from the least quantity to the greatest: the whole
extracted from the best and latest authorities.
Table of the annual Fall of Rain.
Upminster, Essex
Carlisle, one year
Paris
Berlin
Rome.
Edinburgh
Dublin
South Lambeth, Surry
London
Oundle, North".
Lille
Lyndon, Rutland
Utrecht
Haerlem
•
•
Kimbolton, Hunt.
•
Norwich
Fyfield, Hants
Inches
and
Tenths
16.7
17.
17.
17.2
18.7
19.5
20.2
20.2
20.6
21.3
22.
22.2
22.7
23.
23.
24.
Ferriby, York.
Chichester
Places.
Ulm
Algiers
Chatsworth, Derby
The Hague
Delft
Bristol
•
Leydon
Glasgow
Madeira
Bridgewater
Abo, in Sweden
•
·
Minehead, Somers.
Manchester
Middelbury
Padua, Italy
Sienna, do.
'
·
24.3 Zurich, Switzerland
24.7 Exeter
24.7|| Liverpool
25.
25.5
25.9 || Venice
st
(Inches
and
Tenths.
26.6
26.8
27.
27.
27.8
28.4
28.6
28.6
29.3
29.3
30.2
31.
31.
31.3
33.
33.
33.1
33.2
34.4
34.5
35.2
36.1.
PNEUMATICS.
53
Places.
Langholm, Scotland
Selborne, Hants
Dover
Lyons
Lancaster
Ludgvan, Cornwal
Dordrecht
Townly, Lancas.
Grenada, West Indies
Cape François, St. Dom.
Calcutta, Bengal
Middle of Italy
Mean of England
Petersburgh, Russia
:

Inches
and
Tenths.
36.1
37.2
37.5
39.4
40.3
41.
41.
41.5
Places.
Pisa, Italy
Plymouth
Charleston, N. America
Garsdale, Westmoreland.
Kendal, do.
Keswick, Cumberland
India, sometimes
W. India Islands do.
•
•
42.00
53.00
59.56.
Without entering on a consideration of the peculiar circumstances of
the situation of individual, places, such as their vicinity to the sea, lakes,
or rivers, or to lofty mountains which attract the clouds, it may be ob-
served, that the mean annual fall of rain is greatest at the equator, and
decreases gradually towards each pole. Thus, on an average, the rain
falling in
•
Incbeg
and
Tenths.
43.2
46.5
50.9
52.3
N. Latitude 12.°00' is 126 inchés.
19.46 . . 120
22.35
81
39
32
17
59.8
67.5
104.
126.
But on the other hand, the number of rainy days is smallest at the
equator, increasing proportionally to the distance of the place from it.
Thus from N. lat. 12° to 43° the mean number of rainy days is 78,
from 43° to 46° it is 103; from 46° to 50° it is 134; from 50º to 60°
(including England and Scotland) it is 161. The number of rainy
days is often greater in winter than in summer; but the quantity of
rain is greater in summer than in winter. At Petersburgh in Russią
the number of snowy or rainy days in winter is 84; yet the quantity?
of water is but five inches: whereas in summer the number of rainy
days is nearly the same; but the quantity of water is above eleven
inches.
In speaking of geography it was observed that the periodical swell-
ing and sinking of the sea, or the tides, were produced by the attrac-
tion of the sun and moon on the waters, and that these risings and
fallings were always greatest when those two heavenly bodies were in
conjunction, somewhat smaller when they were in opposition, and
least of all when lines from each met in a right angle at the earth.
Hence the waters were the most attracted when the moon was new,
less so when she was full, and least of all when she was in the first
and third quarters. But at the equinoxés of March and September,
when the sun and moon are in the plane of the earth's equator, the
tides rise higher than at any other period of the year. Now the air
being a fluid much lighter than water, it must be more affected by the
attraction of the sun and moon, when she is new or full, and at the
equinoxes, than at any other times. This is confirmed by observation,
though neither to the extent nor with the punctuality which general
opinion would warrant: for at the new and full moon changes in the
1
#
1
54
PNEUMATICS.
atmosphere not unfrequently take place; and the violence of the
equinoxial gales is but too well known to the mariner.
1
According as the state of the atmosphere is more or less disturbed,
the appearance of the heavenly bodies will be more or less altered.
Thus, if the moon appear paler than usual, or be surrounded by a
halo or circle, rain will probably soon come on: several circles about
the moon indicate wind. The same remarks apply to the sun. When
the moon appears red, or if her horns be blunt, wind may be expected
from that corner to which the bluntest horn is directed. A red circle
about the full moon also betokens wind. In observing the rain-bow,
if the blue and yellow parts are very bright, or if all of it vanish at the
same time, it will be fair weather: if the bow appear broken in several
places, tempestuous weather may be expected. A rain-bow in the
morning is proverbially the sailor's warning. When the sky is of a
fine blue colour, without any clouds, it will continue to be fair wea-
ther: but if it be of a very dark blue, clouds will be formed, and wind
rain or fog will soon follow. When the sky appears very much
clouded for some time, without rain, it generally first clears up, and
then changes to rain. If the clouds in a summer evening gradually
diminish, and at last vanish, it will be fine weather; but if the clouds
increase, and small clouds be observed to move swiftly under the great
ones, rain will soon ensue: or if the clouds assume a dark colour,
thunder may be expected. If the clouds in the west, at the time of
sun-set, be tinged with light red and yellow or if there be no
clouds, and the sky, in the same quarter, be of a beautiful red and
yellow, it will be fine weather: but if the setting-sun look pale, or if
the clouds then change to a dark red, and so continue, rain will come
on. Clouds tinged with dark red, in the quarter opposite to the sun,
whether at his rising or his setting, denote wind. In winter when
large clouds are observed, with white edges, and a strong blue sky
above them, it will be hail or snow, which however may perhaps be
dissolved into rain before they come down to the ground. When two
or more layers or strata of clouds are seen moving in different direc-
tions, rain generally follows. Many small clouds pretty high, and
others appearing at the same time, in form of fleeces of wool, denote
wind. A small black cloud in a clear sky, or several small clouds col-
lecting near one another, are an indication of wind from the quarter
from which the clouds move: also if the clouds are observed to spread
out like rays from a point in the horizon, wind will come from that
point, and in some cases from a point directly opposite to it. When the
smaller stars are suddenly obscured, wind or rain may be expected;
and the meteors, commonly called falling or shooting stars, usually
forebode wind. The appearance of a wind-gall, that is, of a portion
of a rain-bow, broader than the arch when entire, is an indication of
an approaching gale. The Aurora borealis, or northern lights, called
also streamers and merry-dancers, may generally be considered to an-
nounce wind from the SW. quarter, attended with hazy weather and
small rain, the gale coming on 24 or 30 hours after the appearance of
the lights. A considerable change of the wind commonly brings on a
change in the weather.
From a great number of meteorological observations made in Eng-
land for a century back, a number of probable conjectures on the
+
1
PNEUMATICS.
55
*
weather have been drawn, of which the following are the principal.→
When there has been no storm before or after the spring equinoxes,
the ensuing summer is generally dry, at least five times out of six.
When a storm happens from any easterly point, either on the 19th,
20th, or 21st of March, the succeeding summer is generally dry, four
times, at least, in five. When a storm arises on the 25th, 26th, or
27th of March, and not before, in any quarter, the succeeding summer
is generally dry, four times out of five. If there be a storm from SW
or WSW. on the 19th, 20th, 21st, or 22d of March, the succeeding
summer is generally wet, four times in five. A moist autumn and
mild winter are generally followed by a cold and dry spring, which
greatly retards vegetation. If the summer be remarkably rainy, it is
probable that the ensuing winter will be severe; for the unusual eva
poration will carry off the heat of the earth. Wet summers are gene
rally attended by an unusual quantity of seed on the white-thorn and
dog-rose bushes. Hence the unusual fruitfulness of these shrubs is a
sign of a severe ensuing winter. The appearance of cranes and birds
of passage early in autumn, announces a very severe winter; for it is
a sign that it is already set in in the northern countries of the conti-
nent. When it rains plentifully in May, it will rain but little in Sep-
tember; and, on the contrary, when May is dry, September will be
wet. When the wind is SW. during summer or autumn, and the
temperature of the air is unusually cold for the season, to both the
feeling and the thermometer, and the mercury in the barometer keeps
low, then much rain may be expected. Violent temperatures, such as storms
of wind and great rains, produce a sort of critical change in the atmos,
phere, from which arises a constant temperature, good or bad, lasting for
some months together. A rainy winter forebodes an unfruitful year;
and a severe autumn announces a windy winter.
From our general ignorance of the causes of the great revolutions in
the atmosphere, and our very confined powers of observation, the fores
going, and all similar rules, may be liable to many exceptions: from
them, however, some hints and warnings may be drawn for the ser-
vice of the husbandman and the seaman, two classes the most particu-
larly interested in forming a correct prognostication of the weather.
On such a subject scientific certainty is not to be obtained; but at the
same time, the resultof general experience will be much more satisfactory
than that of the worthy gentleman who, from his early days, had kept
a regular journal of the state and changes of the weather; and at last,
in his fourscore and tenth year, made this notable discovery that the
weather was changeable.
Clouds, rain, snow, hail, mist, &c. belong to various branches of na-
tural history and philosophy, particularly to hydrostatics and pneuma
tics; in this place, therefore, some brief observations on their nature
may be introduced.
The change of solid bodies into liquids is now known, from the sa-
gacious researches of the late Professor Black of Edinburgh, to be
brought about by the combination of the solid with a certain quantity
of the cause of heat, or caloric, as it is now termed. But there is another
change still more remarkable to which they are liable by the action of
heat. Almost all liquids, when heated to a certain temperatue gra-
dually put on the form of a fluid, elastic and invisible like pure air, and
endowed with the same mechanical properties. Thus water by being
1
•
+
}
56
1
PNEUMATICS.
I
1
is converted into steam, which is invisible, so long as it retains all its heat,
Thus the steam from the spout of a boiling tea-kettle is invisible for a
short distance from the mouth; and only becomes visible in consequence
of condensation in the cooler air. Steam is equally elastic with air; and
a given quantity of water converted into steam is so prodigiously enlarg-
ed in bulk, as to fill a space 1800 times as great as that of the original
water. Steam is lighter than air, as 10 to 12 according to some naturalists,
or as 10 to 14 according to others. When the heat is a little diminished
the particles of water unite together, and form small hollow globes or
bladders, constituting what is thence called vesicular vapour. This,
vapour being exactly of the same specific weight with atmospheric air,
it floats about in it under the name of clouds when greatly elevated,
and of fog or mist when low on the surface of the ground. That
clouds and fogs are of the same nature, has been ascertained by travel-
lers in balloons; but it is a matter of constant experience to persons
who visit the upper regions of the Alps in Switzerland, and other
mountainous tracts. The vallies are screened from the sun by hori-
zontal ranges of clouds, stretching across from mountain to mountain.
As you ascend the slope, you approach and at last enter what appeared
as a cloud from below, but what now shows itself to be in fact a thick
penetrating fog or mist. Mounting still higher, you at last make your
way up and through this stratum of vapour, and on ascending above
its higher surface, you perceive the sun shining in all his vigour and
brilliancy, illuminating the ridges and summits of the mountains,
which now appear like islands seated in the midst of an ocean of re-
splendent vapour.
睿
​Different fluids, and even certain solids, are convertible into invi-
sible vapour, at different degrees of heat or temperature. Some as
water are gradually changed into vapour at every temperature, while
others continue fixed until the heat arrive at a certain point. Water is
converted into steam at a boiling heat, or 212 degrees of Fahrenh eit's
thermometer. But if an open vessel filled with water, and exposed to
the common air, be examined, the water will be found daily to decrease,
and at last totally to disappear. Alcohol or pure spirit, ether and
volatile oils also evaporate in all temperatures. But sulphuric acids or
oil of vitriol and fixed oils, never assume the form of vapour until
heated to a certain degree. The following table shows the points at
which various substances melt, boil, and congeal, according to the
scales for measuring heat of Wedgewood and Fahrenheit.
(
Table of the effects of heat on various substances, measured in the
higher degrees of temperature, by Wedgewood's pyrometer, and in
the lower temperatures by Fahrenheit's thermometer. Wedgewood's
scale begins, at red-heat visible in day-light, corresponding to 1077
degrees of Fahrenheit, and rises to 240 degrees. The parts or de-
grees on these two scales are extremely different in magnitude. Ac-
cording to Wedgewood, water freezes at-8.142, and boils at-6.658,
both below Zero or the beginning of his scale; making the difference
between the freezing and the boiling points of water 1.484 degrees,
whereas according to F. water freezes at 32 degrees, and boils at
212 degrees, making the difference between the freezing and boiling
points 180 degrees.

·
!
PNEUMATICS.
57

WEDGEWOOD.
•
Wedgewood's greatest heat
Nankeen Porcelain stands
Best China ditto softened
Pig Iron completely melted
Bristol Porcelain stands
Pig Iron begins to melt
Smith's Forge
Plate Glass furnace
Inferior China softens
Flint Glass furnace
Derby Porcelain vitrifies
Chelsea ditto ditto
Stone Ware baked
Welding heat of Iron
Worcester Porcelain vitrifies
Welding of Iron begins.
Working heat of Plate-glass
Delft-ware baked
Fine Gold melts
Fine Silver melts
Swedish Copper ditto
Brass ditto
•
•
Enamel burnt on
Red-heat visible by day
Mercury boils.
Expressed Oils boil
Sulphuric Acid boils
•
•
FAHRENHEIT.
Red-heat visible in the dark
Antimony melts
Zinc ditto
240
160
156
150
135
130
125
124
120
114
112
105
102
95
94
90
57
41
32
28
27
21
6
อ
947
809
699
660
655
600
590
546
Steel turns deep blue
Oil of Turpentine boils
Lead melts
Bismuth ditto
•
Steel Straw coloured
Lead four, Tin one, melt
Tin' melts
Bismuth one, Tin one, melt
Nitric Acid boils
Solution of Salt ditto
Water boils, when the ba-
rometer is at 30
A mixture of Bismuth 8,
Lead 5, and Tin 3, melts
Alcohol (pure spirit) boils
Bees-wax melts
Heat of Tea and Coffee
Feverish heat
Hatching Heat
Pleasant Bath
Blood Heat
Temperate air
Ice melts or Water freezes
Milk freezes
•
Sea-water ditto
Wine ditto
Alcohol 1, Water 3, ditto
Do. 1, do. 1, do. below 0
Do. 2, do. 1, do.
Mercury do. contracting
about part
1 580
1560
325
540
460
4.60
460
408
283
242
218
212
210
174
142
115
130
112
107
108
106
92
100
96
62
32
30
28
20
7
7
11
39
When visible vapour has been deposited from transparent air, from
cold or any other cause, it generally remains suspended for some time,
in the form of mist or cloud. At some times, however, it is at once
deposited on the surface of a solid body in the form of dew or hoar-
frost. The dew seen on vegetables is partly derived in the evening
from vapours ascending from the heated earth, since it is found on
the inner surface of garden bell-glasses; and in the morning from the
moisture descending from the air above, as it begins to coel. At
other times however the dew, in warm weather, begins to fall in the
evening. So plentifully does this evening dew fall immediately after
sun-set in hot weather in Spain, Italy, and the south of France, that
the people of those countries carefully avoid going abroad, to enjoy the
cool of the evening, until the dew be all deposited. It is there called
serena or serein, on account of the calm serenity which usually pre-
1
1
L
I
58
PNEUMATICS.
vails at that time of the day. Dew is probably only a portion of the
vapour formerly suspended in the air, but condensed by the cold of
the evening. It is remarkable that out of a number of bodies exposed
to dew some are quite wetted by it, while others remain dry: thus
metals remain dry, when glass near them is quite wet. This may
perhaps depend on the circumstance that metals being good con-
ductors of heat, readily part with it, to produce speedy evaporation,
while glass being a bad conductor of heat, retains it and produces
only a very slow evaporation or drying. The truth of this observa-
tion is however not confirmed in the case of every good conductor.
Mists are said to consist sometimes of other particles besides pure
water: these are called dry mists, and have been supposed to blight
vegetables. Such mists are sometimes attended by a smell resembling
that produced by a spark of electricity. Rain falling after a dry season
deposits particles of various foreign matter, brought down with it from
the atmosphere. The difference between the rain collected in the heat
of a large smoky town, and that collected in the open clear country, is
two notorious to require description. The inconceivably fine farina or
flour of plants, has been carried by the wind thirty or forty miles from
the spot where it was produced. Sir William Hamilton, British am-
bassador at Naples, relates that thick clouds of extremely minute
volcanic ashes overshadowed Taranto (Tarentum,) and the whole pro-
vince of Lecce, extending sixty miles farther in the same direction,
on the 18th of June 1794, which had proceeded from mount Vesuvius
near Naples, during the very awful eruption of that volcano in the
morning of the 16th of the same month. The distance from Vesuvius
in a straight line across Italy east to Taranto, is 160 English miles ;
and the far point of Lecce is nearly 220 miles from the volcano. In
the same manner may the minute eggs or animalcules, producing in-
sects injurious to vegetation, be transported from the continent across
the sea to this country, by a strong easterly gale, and afterwards de-
posited on our trees, hedges, fields and gardens, by their own weight,
or by adhering to the particles of mist and fog. The fog in this case
is blamed, not for its own misconduct, but because it introduces very
noxious strangers.
When the light vesicular globes forming vapour or a cloud are, either
from their mutual attraction, or the increased action of cold, still more
condensed, and become even solid, they are too heavy to be supported
in the atmosphere, and fall to the earth in the form of rain. In
their descent several of these drops unite together, so that when they
arrive at the ground they are much larger than when they first begin.
Another fact respecting rain, well ascertained by experiment,
is this, that not only larger drops, but a greater quantity of water falls
on the ground than originally proceeded from the cloud. Hence it
appears, that the drops of rain, in their descent, not only often unite
together, but also attract additional moisture from the different strata
of inferior air, as they fall through them.
When a cloud or vapour is exposed to a current of cold air, of a
certain temperature, its particles are congealed or crystallised in a loose
separate form. Portions of the cloud in this state are, by their gravity
detached from the rest, and descend to the ground in light fleecy
flakes of snow. If however, the cold acting upon the cloud has been
only sufficient to condense it into globules of rain, and that these
!
1
ACOUSTICS.
59
4
P
J
globules shall, during their descent pass through a stratum of very
cold air, they will be completely frozen, and come to the ground as
hail, and even (when a multitude of drops are suddenly condensed in-
to large solid masses,) as solid pieces of ice.
Explanation of the air-pump in Plate II. Fig. 2. At AA are two-
brass barrels, each containing a piston with a valve opening upwards,
worked by the handle B, having a pinion that works in the teeth of
the racks CC. On the wooden frame ED, is a brass plate G, and also
a brass tube communicating with the barrels and the cock I. The
glass vessel K has its rim ground perfectly flat, and rubbed with hog's
lard to make it exactly fit the plate G; this vessel is called the
receiver, and from it the air is extracted by the action of the pistons,
when the cock I is shut, by which alone it could gain admittance.

SECT. IV.
F
ACOUSTICS.
The transition from Pneumatics to Acoustics is quite natural; for
the latter, as the Greek term signifies, instructs us in the nature of
hearing and sounds, which are usually conveyed to us by means of the
air around us. In the early days of natural knowledge, sounds were
supposed to have a real separate existence, like the odorous particles
of various substances, and that hearing was excited by the action of
the particles of sound upon the ear, in the same way as smelling is ex-
cited by the action of odoriferous particles upon the nostrils. The
Greek philosopher Zeno, however, three centuries before our Saviour;
taught that hearing was produced by the air situated between the
sounding body and the ear. “The air,” said he, " is agitated in every
"direction, from the sounding body, and moves from it in waves
" which fall upon the ear, in the same manner with the circles pro-
"duced in water, by a stone thrown into it." This opinion admirably
simple and intelligible, has been confirmed and illustrated by the ex-
perience of the greatest philosophers, down to the present day. Thus
a bell rung under water, gives a sound as distinct as in the open air :
and it has been ascertained, that fish have a strong perception of
sound, even at the bottom of a deep river; tame carp in the bottom of
a pond will rise upon. a call or whistle. The production of circular
waves in a pond by the impression of a falling stone is an experiment
obvious to every eye. In sound we cannot render the operation an
object of sight; but when similar effects are produced, we are war-
ranted to suppose the existence of similar causes. A stone slipped
gently into water will create no circulating waves; in the same way
an impression made gently on the air will excite no sound; but if the
impression be sudden and forcible, waves of air will be produced which
extending in all directions will excite the sensation of hearing on every
ear within the bounds of those circles, the more or less powerfully,
as the ear is less or more remote from the centre. The sense of hear-
ing is occasioned by the undulating or waving motion of the air, col-
·
J
་
1
60
C
lected by the funnel of the outward ear, and conveyed through the
auditory passage to a very thin transparent membrane, stretched over
the inner end of the passage, like the parchment over the head of a
drum. From this circumstance it is called the tympanum or drum of
the ear.
The waves of air collected by the funnel of the ear, in
greater quantity than would fall upon the drum itself if exposed to them,
press upon that membrane which, by its motion, acts upon nerves
communicating with the brain, when immediately the sense of sound,
or hearing, is excited. If from any cause, the air be prevented from
reaching the tympanum, or if that membrane be rendered inflexible,
so that the motion of the air shall produce no motion in it, or that
the internal parts of the organ have lost their activity; in all these
cases no impression will be made on the brain, no sound will be
perceived, and the person is said to be deaf. It was before said,
that a bell rung in water communicates its motion to the water, which
does the same to the air upon its surface, and the sound of the bell
is heard just as distinctly as if it had been rung in the open air.
Again, if a bell be rung in a vessel, from which the air has been
exhausted by the air-pump, no sound will be produced: but if it be
rung in a vessel into which a greater quantity of air than is naturally
the case has been forced, the sound of the bell will be proportionally
increased. The progress of the circles of water made by the stone
may be measured; but the circles of air travel much faster. By ex-
periment it is found, that sound moves at the rate of 1142 English
feet in one second of time, or very nearly 13 English miles in one
minute, or 778 miles in one hour. That sound is not produced in-
stantaneously but moves in a certain rate, is obvious to every man's
observation. We see a man felling a tree at some distance: we see
the fall of the hatchet, but it is again raised in the air to repeat the
stroke, before the sound of the first come to our ear. We see the
smoke from the fowling-piece across a dozen of fields; but a sensible
interval takes place before the report affect our hearing. By the rate
of the motion of sound we are enabled to compute the distances of
objects. Thus a ship out at sea in the night fires a gun as a signal of
distress. The flash is observed by persons on shore, who remark that
the report does not reach their ears till just seven seconds after the flash.
Multiplying by 7 the number of feet travelled by sound in 1 second,
viz. 1142, we have 7994 feet, equal to 1 mile and 296, feet: this
therefore is the distance of the ship from the observers at the firing of
the gun. By the same rule we may estimate the distance of a thunder-
cloud, if we carefully notice the time elapsed between the flash and the
report. Hence we may draw an argument to remove the terror ab-
surdly felt by many persons at the rolling report of the thunder, although
the flash of lightning, by which the report was produced in the air,
was beheld with little concern. The motion of lightning being in-
comparably swifter than that of sound, no person who heard the re-
port, could possibly be affected by the flash or discharge. The motion
of sound is here given at 1142 feet in one second; but some late ob-
servers are inclined, and on good grounds, to diminish that velocity,
and to estimate its motion at only 1130 feet in a second.
Sounds of all kinds travel equally quick the report of a gun
and
the stroke of a hammer; the loudest thunder and the lowest whisper,
(as far as it is heard) move all with equal velocity. Smooth and clear
ACOUSTICS.

་
ACOUSTICS.
61

•
I
sounds proceed from bodies all of one substance and of an uniform
figure: harsh sounds proceed from bodies of a mixed nature and an
irregular figure. All substances are, in some measure, conductors of
sound. If you stop one ear, and to the other apply the end of a long
rod of timber, at the opposite end of which a watch is applied, the
beating of the watch will be distinctly heard through the rod. The
same effect will be produced if you stop both ears, and take the end of
the rod between the teeth. A gentle scratch made on the end of a
long deal plank will be plainly heard, if the ear be applied to the other
end, although in the open air it would be quite imperceptible. If be-
tween the legs of a pair of tongs you pass a garter or a piece of flannel,
and pressing the ends of the garter, by a finger of each hand, into the
ears, then raise the tongs from the ground, while another person strikes
on the legs of the tongs with a key, the vibratory motion thus excited
in the tongs, communicated immediately to the ears, will produce a
sensation like the loud ringing of a large church-bell. The earth is
also a good conductor of sound: advanced parties of an army, high-
waymen, &c. have been warned of the approach of horses, by applying
an ear to the ground.
•
The Echo. When a stone is thrown into a pond, it raises up circles
spreading in all directions. If before the impression decay, the waves
strike against the margin of the pond, a wall, or any other obstacle, a
fresh impulse is given to the water, but in a contrary direction; and
the two sets of waves are seen meeting and crossing each other. Just in
the same way if sound strike against a wall, the face of a rock, or any
other unyielding substance, its waves are turned backwards, and a
second sound is produced, at an interval from the first, proportioned to
the distance of the original sounding body from the reflecting body.
This is called an echo, a Greek name, meaning however merely a sound.
It is on the principle of the echo that we account for the prodigious
noise excited in a large empty hall, with regular smooth walls. Let
one play on the violin in such a space, and the sound will be equal to
that produced by a number of such instruments in a common room.
But if the instrument be carried into a bed-chamber, with a carpet,
window-curtains and hangings let down, these substances being unelas-
tic, do not reflect the sound, and the violin will seem to have lost the
best part of its powers. Supposing a room to be constructed in the
form of an ellipse or oval, a sound proceeding from a person placed in
one focus will be reflected to, and distinctly heard by one standing in
the other focus, and distinctly heard no where else. The same ef-
fect is produced likewise in circular domes, as in the whispering-gallery
of St. Paul's church in London, where a whisper uttered against the
wall, at one side of the dome, is reflected to the opposite side, and
there distinctly heard. Hence we see the principle on which are con-
structed the speaking and the hearing trumpet. When we speak in
the open air, the effect on the ear of a distant hearer is produced by
only one impulse of the air, moving straight forward: but when we
speak through a tube, all the pulses propagated from the mouth, ex-
cepting those in the direction of the tube, must strike against its sides,
from which being reflected, a great number of impressions must neces-
sarily be reflected to the ear at a distance. Hence it follows that by
using a tube or trumpet many more waves of air may be made to strike
the ear than without it, and consequently the person at a distance may
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OPTICS.
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hear the voice and words as distinctly, as if he had stood near one
speaking with the mouth alone. The hearing trumpet acts in a simi-
lar manner, but reversed. In the open air only a few direct impulsés
of air can touch the ear; and if the membrane be rigid or its sensibility
weakened, sounds will be but very feebly, if at all perceived. But the
wide open mouth of the trumpet collects a great body of impulses,
which being carried forward by repeated reflection from the sides of
the instrument, as it contracts in diameter, are at last brought to act
so forcibly on the organ of hearing that a sound may now be audible,
which, without this aid, would be entirely inaudible. The human
voice acts by impressions made on the air by organs in the upper part
of the throat and by the application of the tongue, palate, teeth, lips,
&c, the sounds thus produced are subjected to an infinite number of mo-
difications, according to the practice of different nations, by which the
members of the society are enabled to carry on a mutual interchange of
sentiments. The sounds of a violin, a harp, or any other stringed in-
strument, are equally produced by the rapid impulses communicated to
the air by the strings, either when touched with the finger or acted
upon by the roughened hairs of the bow; and as a string makes all its
vibrations in the same time, whether they be great or small, the effect
in moving the air must be the same, and consequently the sound or
note or tone must always be the same, whether the string be touched
soft or strong.


SECT. V.
OPTICS.
THE Science of optics, that is of sight or vision, is founded on the
nature and properties of light, and consists of two principal branches.
1st. Caloptrics, from the Greek catoptron, a speculum or mirror; re-
lative to light reflected from polished or smooth surfaces. 2d. Dioptrics
from dioptesthai to see through; relative to the refraction produced
on light in its passage through different media or substances, as air,
water, glass, &c.
Light, if it could be defined, is too well known to require any de-
finition. It is by the light of the sun, or by that which proceeds
from burning bodies, that we have information of the position and
presence of external objects at a distance; or the rays of light pro-
ceeding from those bodies, and entering our eyes, produce the sensa-
tion of vision. Of the nature of light we have no certain notion;
but two principal opinions have divided the learned. The first is
that of Des Cartes of France, of Huygens of Holland, and of other
eminent philosophers, who conceived universal space to be filled up
with a very, fine and subtile fluid, which is agitated or put in motion
by the sun and burning bodies. This motion consists of vibra-
tions, and undulations, or waves, which extending themselves in all



OPTICS.
63
•
directions, and reaching the eye, render visible the objects from which
these motions are produced. The second theory is proposed by the
illustrious Newton and his disciples. According to this theory, light is a
real material substance, emanating or proceeding from luminous bodies.
It is a subtile fluid, composed of peculiar particles of matter, constantly
separating from luminous bodies, which entering the eye excite the
sensation of light and of sight, or the perception of the objects from
which it originally proceeds, from which it is reflected, or through
which it is refracted. This theory deduced from a great number of
facts and observations, was established by Newton upon mathematical
evidence and demonstration. If then it be admitted that light is a
subtile fluid substance, consisting of minute particles, we are naturally
led to consider their most obvious properties, such as their velocity,
their magnitude, their force, &c. One of the most astonishing pro-
perties of light is the velocity with which it moves. The mean dis-
tance of our earth from the sun is 95 millions of English miles; that
of Jupiter in the midst of his moons is 490 millions. When therefore
he and we are both in a line on the same side of the sun, we are nearest
together, and 395 millions of miles (the difference between 95 and
490) is the distance between us. Again, when Jupiter and we are di-
rectly opposite to one another, on different sides of the sun, the distance
between us must be the greatest, or 585 millions of miles (95 and
490): the difference therefore between our greatest and our least dis-
tance from Jupiter is 190 millions of miles. Now an eminent astrono-
mer of Denmark, Roemer, observing the eclipses and other appearances
of Jupiter's moons or satellites to happen about eight minutes and thir-
teen seconds sooner than the time calculated, when the earth was be-
tween him and the sun; and about eight minutes later than the time
calculated, when she was on the opposite side of the sun; making a
difference in time of sixteen minutes and a half; he very sagaciously
conjectured and proved that this difference could be produced by no-
thing but the time necessary for the progress of light from Jupiter to
the earth, in the opposite points of her course round the sun. The dif-
ference between the distances of the earth and Jupiter was shown to be
190 millions of miles; but the sun being only one half of that differ-
ence in distance from us, it follows that light travels to us from the sun
95 millions of miles in eight minutes and one-fourth, or about the rate
of nearly 200 thousand English miles in one second of time; a velocity
of which the human mind can form no distinct conception. A cannon
ball is computed to fly at the rate of eight miles in one minute, that is,
64 miles in eight minutes and one-fourth, while light travels 95 million's
of miles; light must therefore move with a rapidity towards a million
and a half times faster than a canon ball, which would at its ordinary
rate employ above 22 years and a half in passing between the earth
and the sun,
+

From the inconceivable rapidity of light may be inferred the extreme
minuteness of its particles. The force with which moving bodies strike
others at rest, is in proportion to their mass, or the quantity of matter they
contain, multiplied by their velocity; a swift blow with a light hammer
will drive a nail into the wood, when a very heavy load merely resting
on it would have very little effect. With the prodigious velocity of
light, unless its particles be inconceivably minute, its effects upon
the bodies exposed to it would be most destructive. Indeed were the

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OPTICS.
particles of light even of such a bulk, that two millions of them would
only be equal to a grain of common sand, their impulse would not be
less than that of sand shot from the mouth of a cannon. The mi-
nuteness of the particles of light may also be shown from the great
facility with which they penetrate and pass through transparent but
solid bodies. In passing through such bodies light seems not to suffer
the smallest diminution of its velocity. If there be nothing to obstruct
the rays of light proceeding from a candle, it will fill the whole space,
within two miles round, almost instantaneously, before it has lost the
smallest sensible part of its substance.
The particles of light move with equal freedom in all directions from
the luminious body, without the least apparent jostling or disturbance.
If in a sheet of paper you make a small pin-hole and look through it,
you will see a number of objects, much as if no paper stood in the
way; which can only be occasioned by the rays of light proceeding in
all directions from those objects. By a ray of light is meant one of its
particles in motion; which is always performed in straight lines: hence
it is impossible to see through a crooked tube.
•
As these rays spread out in all directions from their central point in
the luminous body, it follows that a much greater number of them will
fall within any given space, as a sheet of paper, when placed near the
centre than when removed from it. The number of rays, or the
strength and intensity of light on the paper will decrease in the regu-
lar proportion of the square of the increasing distance from the lumi-
nous body. If it be removed to twice its distance, it will receive but
one-fourth part of the former light; if to three times that distance, the
illumination will be reduced to one-ninth part, and so on. Whatever
be the light thrown on a sheet of paper, a book, &c. from one candle
at the distance of one yard, it will be reduced to one-fourth at the dis-
tance of two yards, to one-ninth at three yards, to one-sixteenth at
four yards, &c. Or at four yards sixteen candles will be required, at
three yards nine candles, and at two yards four candles, to throw the
same quantity of light upon the paper, as was done by one candle of
the same sort at the distance of one yard. As the same diminution of
light and heat proceeding from the sun must take place in all the pla-
nets revolving round him, in proportion to their relative distances, we
may compute the quantity enjoyed by each, making that which we en-
joy the standard or unity. The earth is twice and a half as far from the
sun as Mercury is, and the square of 2.5 is 6.25: he therefore enjoys
six one-fourth times as much light and heat as we do. Venus being two-
thirds only of our distance from the sun, receives two one-fourth times
our light. Mars is one and a half time of our distance: he conse-
quently receives less than one-half of our light. Jupiter is distant from
the sun full five times our distance: he therefore possesses only one-
twenty-fifth part of our light. Saturn is distant nine and a half times,
and consequently his benefits from the sun must be only one-ninetieth
part of ours. And the far-distant Herschel, twice as remote at Saturn,
and nineteen times farther from the centre of light and heat than we
are, can enjoy but one-three hundred and sixtieth portion of what we
receive. The inhabitants of each of these globes are nevertheless wise-
ly adapted by their Creator, to the circumstances in which they are
placed.
In speaking of optics sundry terms must be employed, of which the
1
OPTICS.
65
following are the chief:-A ray of light, as was first said, is a particle
in motion, always performed and represented as a straight line. A
number of rays proceeding together from any point, and considered in
their conjunct state, is called a pencil of rays, resembling the hairs in a
drawing pencil. A medium (a middle or intervening substance) signi-
fies a body of such a nature as to suffer rays of light to pass through it.
Such are air, water, glass, &c. which are therefore said to be diapha-
nous, pellucid, or transparent, the first a Greek and the others Latin
terms, expressing that which may be shined through, or through which
objects may be seen. Rays that move always at equal distances are
said to be parallel; but if they continually recede from one another, like
the radii of a circle from the centre to the circumference, they are said
to diverge (to be separated). On the other hand, rays tending to a
meeting, or from the circumference of a circle to its centre, are said to
converge (to be drawn together): and the point at which they meet
is called the focus (fire-place). When rays, after passing through one
substance or medium enter another, and are then bent out of their first
direction, they are refracted (bent back): when they strike against a
surface and are thrown back like a marble from the pavement, they are
reflected (bent forward). If the marble fall from the hand perpendicu-
larly upon a horizontal pavement, it is thrown up again in the same
perpendicular direction: but if it be made to strike the stone with an
oblique inclination, it will fly off in the opposite direction, making with
the pavement an angle precisely equal to that with which it struck it.
A mirror or speculum is an opaque (that is, not transparent) body, of
which the surface is very smooth and finely polished, so as to reflect
the rays of light that fall upon it, and thereby to exhibit images or
representations of objects before it. Mirrors are generally made of
metal or glass polished and silvered: those of metal consist of copper
with a small proportion of grain tin; and in some a little silver, brass,
and arsenic are intermixed. Glass mirrors are silvered in this
way.
Upon a large slab of marble, well polished and ground, perfectly true
and even in every direction, a quantity of tin foil (tin hammered into a
thin leaf) is spread and pressed down quite smooth. On the foil a little
mercury (in which some tin has been dissolved) is dropped, and with
cotton or a hare's foot, is spread all over the foil, until every part be
touched by the mercury, which incorporates with it, forming what is
called an amalgam. The plate of glass is then applied to the side of
the slab or table, and cautiously slipped over the surface of the tin and
mercury. Weights are then laid on the glass, to press out the reduni-
dant mercury, and to promote the adhesion of the amalgam with the
under surface. When this is done the silvering is finished, and the
mirror no longer transmits but reflects the rays of light. Mirrors are
either plain, convex, or concave. Plain, or better plane, mirrors have
their surfaces perfectly even and in straight lines in all directions:
such are common looking-glasses, a term which, by the by, is no more
than a translation of the French miroir. Convex mirrors have their
middle parts more prominent than the edges. Those most generally
used may be considered as a portion cut off from a glass globe, the
swelling outside of which is turned to the light or the eye. Concave
mirrors, on the contrary, are the inside of the section of a hollow glass
globe. These two kinds of mirrors may, however, be sections of all
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66
OPTICS.
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other regular curved bodies, as well as of globes; such as of a cylinder,
&c. which afford much entertainment by their power of distorting the
images of men or other objects brought before them.
.
A lens is a circular piece of glass, ground into various forms, by
which it is made to collect or disperse the rays of light that fall upon
and pass through it. The original and proper lens is thin all round
the edge, and swells out regularly, in the arch of a circle, on both sides
to the middle. Such are spectacle, reading, magnifying, and telescope-
glasses; and from this shape they draw their name: for such is the
form of the vetch, called in Latin lens. When a lens is thus swelled
out on both sides like a vetch, it is called a double convex glass. When
one side only is swelled out, and the other is straight and even, it be-
comes plano-conver: when one side is hollowed out, and the other
straight, it is plano-concave; and when both sides are hollow, it is a
double concave. If one side be concave and the other convex (not how-
ever arches of concentric circles, so that the glass is every where of the
same thickness) but thicker in the middle than at the edge, the lens
then becomes a meniscus. This term signifies in the Greek a little
moon, or something moon-shaped; and of a lens of this shape we have
a perfect image in the appearance of the moon, three or four days after
or before her change. The common watch-glass, thicker in the mid-
dle than at the edge, is a meniscus. A line passing through the centre
of a lens, at right angles to its plane, is called its axis. Any solid figure
consisting of three equal sides, each being a parallelogram, and its two
ends equilateral triangles, is a regular prism. Such a figure composed
of crystal or pure glass is of constant use in illustrating the nature and
properties of light, and known by that name.
·
Reflection and Refraction. It was already said that, when rays of
light strike against an opaque or non-transparent substance, they are
thrown forward, reflected, like a marble rebounding from the pavement.
On the other hand, when rays pass out of one substance or medium
into another, of a different degree of density, whether rarer or denser,
they are as it were broken backward or refracted.
It is however to be observed, that the whole of a ray of light is never
reflected from any surface, a small part penetrating, and, in some cases,
passing through the reflecting body. In the same way the whole of a
ray, falling obliquely on a transparent medium, is never refracted, but
a small part is reflected from the surface on which it falls. But in the
observations which follow on reflection and refraction, this nice distinc-
tion is not taken into consideration.


The angle formed by the ray and the nearest part of the surface is
called the angle of incidence, and that formed between the farthest part
of the surface and the ray when flying off is the angle of reflection ;
and these two angles are always equal the one to the other. The an-
gle of refraction is that formed between a refracted ray and the perpen-
dicular.
OPTICS.
67
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Of these observations a competent notion may be formed, by a re-
ference to the preceding diagram. Let AB Fig. 2. represent the up-
per, and CD the under surface of a medium of any kind, as in the
first place a smooth polished slab of marble, If from D, over the
middle of the slab lying perfectly horizontally, I drop a marble, it will
fall in the perpendicular DE, and strike the slab at E. From the elas-
ticity of both bodies, the ball will be thrown back or reflected, precise-
ly in the line of its fall, from E towards D; and if suffered it will con-
tinue for some time to fall to E, and bound up towards D, shortening
every time the height of the bound, from the constant action of gravity,
and will at last remain unmoved upon the slab at E. Let the marble
now be taken up to F, and thrown so as to strike the surface of the slab
at E; it will rebound but not in the direction of its fall back to F, nor
up as before to D, but in the direction EG, which is inclined to the
surface AB, at an angle precisely equal to that of the direction F E.
That is the two angles G E B and, FEA are equal. But GEB is the
angle of reflection, and FEA is the angle of incidence; these two angles
are therefore always equal. The same consequence will follow if the
marble strike and be reflected from the surface in the directions of NE
and En, for the angles NEA, and n EB are also equal. The angles
DEA, and DEB, being formed by a perpendicular, must be both
right angles and consequently equal. Now what is here spoken of a
ball, and a slab of marble, is correctly true of the impulse of all other
elastic bodies, (and what material substance is not elastic?) and con-
sequently of a particle of light.
Let us next suppose, AB and CD to be the upper and under sur-
faces of some medium much denser than common air, and that these
surfaces are truly parallel. If a particle or a continued succession of
particles forming a ray of light fall from D through the air perpendi
'cularly upon AB at E, it will preserve its direction, pass directly
through the water (for we here take no notice of the vessel containing
it, which besides may be of transparent glass,) and again enter the air at
H, from which point it will continue the same direction to I.
On the
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OPTICS.
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other hand, let a ray fall in any inclination as in FE; this ray we
should expect to pass forward through the water in the same direction
like EXK, but no; on the contrary the ray is bent down toward the
perpendicular EH, so as to proceed through the water, in the direction
of the line EL, as if it had gone straight along NEL; FE is there-
fore at E refracted into EL; and the ray, instead of leaving the water
at X, leaves it at L. But water is a medium much more dense than
air; it therefore appears, that a ray of light, proceeding from a rarer
to a denser medium, is bent in or refracted nearer to the perpendicular
passing through the denser medium, than was its former direction in
passing through the rarer. This however is not all, for the reverse
of this fact takes place when a ray passes from a denser into a rarer me-
dium;
the direction of the ray EL is therefore, upon passing out of
the water into the air at L, less attracted towards the perpendicular
EHI, and turns off from LM in the direction LO, which is always
parallel to its original direction F E, while in the air, before it entered
the water. The whole lines FE K, and PLO are always parallel; con--
sequently in passing from a denser into a rarer medium a ray of light
is less refracted towards, or diverges more from the perpendicular, than
while in the denser substance. Nor is this effect confined to rays falling
from a rarer medium into one more dense placed below it; for the ray
OL proceeding upwards through the denser medium above it, will be
equally refracted nearer to the perpendicular as in LE; and on enter-
ing the air above the water will again fall away from the perpendicular,
as EF. Whatever be the position of the dense medium, ABDC, with
relation to the rare medium on each side, the effects are constantly the
same. The ray FE being refracted at E from its original direction EK
into ELM, HEL, or IEM, becomes the angle of refraction.
•
.
It is a maxim in optics, that we perceive objects only in the direction
in which the rays of light come from them to our eye, without regard
to the real direction in which the objects are situated with respect to us,
If a mirror be so placed in one room, that by standing on one side and
looking into it obliquely, I can perceive objects in the adjoining room
of which the door is open, I can form a notion of those objects just as
well as if, the intermediate wall being removed, I saw them by direct
vision. Standing at F, (see preceding figure,) and looking to the mir-
ror at E, I perceive an object at G, by reflection, although by the
wall between D and E, no ray can pass directly from G to F. From
long and continual habit we are never misled by appearances produced
by reflection from a mirror or other similar surface; but the effects of
refraction occur very rarely, nor have we always the means of correct-
ing the impressions they make on our senses and minds. The nature
and cause of refraction are besides less obvious than those of reflection
although if this were the place for such an enquiry, it might not per-
haps be difficult to show that both these effects on the rays of light are
of a similar nature, and are produced by a similar cause.


*
That a ray of light is refracted in passing from a rarer intò à
denser medium, or the contrary, at the line where the two substances
touch each other, may be seen by the following common experiment.
Suppose EH to be the upright side of a vessel EHDB, containing
only air. Let a ring, a shilling, or other small object be fixed with a
little wax in the bottom of the vessel as at L, so that you can just dis-
cover it with the eye at N, over the edge of the side at E. Then step
OPTICS.
69
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backwards till the eye come to F, and the sight over E will strike the
bottom of the vessel at X. Keeping the eye steady at F; let another
person pour water gradually into the vessel, and as it rises, after some
time the money, &c, will come into view, as at Q in the direction of
FE; and if water be still poured in, the object will still appear to rise
higher and higher, until the vessel be full; while the vessel contained
only air, L was invisible from F, but when the water rose to a certain
height the rays entering it from FE were bent downwards towards the
direction of the perpendicular, from EQX to EL, consequently L be
ing seen over E by the eye at F, and we being accustomed to see ob-
jects either reflected as from a mirror, or in a direct line, we natu-
rally conceive L to be seen in the straight line FEQ; and there-
fore conclude Q to be the true place of the object at L. But as
the object was secured in the bottom of the vessel at L, which is
now also in sight, we likewise conclude the bottom to be actually
raised from the level of CLD to that of RQ, by which the depth
of the vessel is apparently much diminished. If the vessel be filled
quite up to the brim EB, the object L will rise above Q, and ap-
pear as at S, in the direction of SET, but the observer at F will
see S raised above the direction of FE, or in other words a ray of
light passing by supposition through SE, and F, will appear to
form an angle opening upwards at E, and instead of being straight
will seem to be bent or broken upwards, at the surface of the water
at E. That rays of light are refracted down toward the perpendicular,
when they pass from air into water, will be evident from the follow-
ing simple experiment. Exclude the light as much as possible from
a room on which the sun shines bright, admitting only a small beam
or ray through a hole made on purpose. In this ray place an empty
bason, or other broad vessel, in such a way that the light may fall
at the union of the opposite side with the bottom, and there make
a mark. Now pour water gently into the vessel, and you will see
the bright spot gradually moving away from its position, across the
bottom towards the window, in proportion to the depth of the water
poured in an effect to be produced by no other cause than the bend-
ing down of the ray of light. If a little milk be dropped in the wa
ter, and some dust or hair powder be floating in the room, the ex-
periment will be the more satisfactory.
Here we have an explanation of the common fact, that a stick or
cane however straight, or an oar, laid obliquely in water, seems al-
ways to be bent or broken upwards at the surface. The cane NEL
will be seen as NÈQ; FEQ will be seen as FES, &c. Hence also
we ought to be careful in entering water that appears to be shallow;
for a river or pond seemingly little more than four feet deep may up-
on trial be found in depth between five and six feet. From inatten-
tion to this fact, many alarming and even fatal accidents have befallen
young persons in bathing; and it is to be particularly observed, thạt
the purer and clearer the water, the more liable is the eye to be de-
ceived, because there danger and deception are the least apprehend-
ed. But on the other hand, to the refraction of the rays of light,
when passing from a rarer into a denser medium, we are indebted for
many advantages daily and hourly enjoyed, but for which, from heed-
lessness, or because they are continually recurring, we seldom feel
that gratitude which is so justly due to the beneficent providence by

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OPTICS.
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whom they are bestowed. We here allude to the effects of refraction
on the rays of light proceeding from the sun, moon and other lumi-
naries, in passing from the finer into the grosser parts of our atmo-
sphere. By the diagram before given it was shewn that while air
alone filled the vessel EHDB, an object at L was invisible by an eye
at F: but that when water (a denser medium) was poured in, that ob-
ject came into view at Q, and advanced even to S. Suppose now an
observer placed at F on the surface of our globe, and that he look
eastward along the horizon FE to the place where the sun is to rise,
as at Q upon that line produced; were there no atmosphere, or were
it not endowed with a refractive power, the sun would be quite invi-
sible until he arrived in the direction of F E, as at Q. Our atmosphere
however (as was noticed in speaking of pneumatics) being proportion-
ally more dense, as it is nearer the earth, the sun's rays in passing
through the different strata will be more and more bent down towards
the surface; so that some time before he be actually arrived at Q, as
for example's sake at L, his body will be seen by the observer at F.
The sun will therefore appear to be risen above the horizon, and his
light will actually arrive at F, when he is still actually at L. For the
very same reason his light will continue, and his body will be seen, for
some time after he is really set below the horizon in the west. At
rising and setting his rays passing for the greatest distance through the
densest strata of the atmosphere, there refraction is the most powerful;
and in proportion to his elevation above the horizon, its effects are
diminished, until he come to be directly perpendicular to the observer
(which happens only within the tropics,) when all refraction ceases.
From accurate computation and observation it has been found, that the
refraction of light in the direction of the horizon amounts to thirty-three
minutes of a degree, or that the sun or other luminary appears in the
horizon, when it is really above half a degree below it; consequently
that the luminary which ought to be visible only during its passage
over a hemisphere or 180° is really to be seen for the space of 181° six
minutes. Now as the sun apparently travels through 360° in 24 hours,
and through 180 in 12 hours, owing to the refraction of our atmosphere,
this period of 12 hours is enlarged to 12 hours 4 minutes 24 seconds of
time. This effect of refraction may seem of little consequence in com-
mon life; in geography however and navigation, which chiefly depend
for their certainty on the accuracy of astronomical observations, the
change of place in celestial objects, occasioned by the rays of light pas-
sing through our atmosphere, comes to be of real importance, in ascer-
taining the latitude and longitude of a ship or a town. But indepen-
dently of this real addition to our sunshine, and diminution of our night,
to the refraction and reflection of our atmosphere we owe that interme-
diate portion of illumination called twilight, beginning when the sun
is still 18' under the horizon in the morning, and lasting till he be as
much under it in the evening. The general light perceived in a cloud-
less sky, and when there is no moon, is perhaps as much the effect of
the sun's rays reflected and refracted from the more distant parts of our
atmosphere, as of the stars and planets with which the heavens are
bespangled. Were it not for these properties of the air we should be
involved in merely star light until the very instant when the sun rose
in full brilliancy above the horizon; and we should instantaneously pass
from his greatest splendor into the same darkness, the moment his body
OPTICS.
71
sunk under the horizon. He would shine upon us with meridian bril-
liancy while we looked at him: but the instant we turned our backs,
we should see nothing but a midnight heavens.
In the diagram fig. 2. was shewn how any elastic body, as a ray of
light, was reflected from a straight plane surface; a ray falling perpen-
dicularly as DE, would be reflected in the same line as ED; another
NE, would go off as En, a third FE, would be reflected in EG, &c.
Similar effects are produced by reflection from curved surfaces, whether
concave or convex; because the point of the curve touched by the ray
being indefinitely small, the curve and its tangent at that point may be
conceived to coincide; and the tangent being a right line, the ray will
be reflected just as if it had struck upon a flat surface.
It is not a little surprising, though it may seem invidious to remark
it, that in the generality of treatises on optics, we find this assertion:
"When parallel rays of light fall upon a concave mirror they will be
"reflected, and meet in a point half way between the mirror and the
"centre of its concavity." And this assertion is illustrated by a mirror
the section of a sphere; although it must be obvious to every one but a
little acquainted with the properties of parallel lines falling internally
on the circumference of a circle, and consequently of a sphere, that if
a radius be drawn from the centre to the point of the circumference,
where any of those lines terminates, and on the opposite side of that
radius a line be drawn from that point, forming with the radius an angle
of reflection equal to the angle of incidence, such a line will, in no pos-
sible case, fall precisely in the middle point between the centre and the
circumference of the mirror, upon the parallel ray passing through the
centre of its concavity.
There is but one kind of concave surface, that will reflect all rays
falling upon it, parallel to its axis, into one and the same point, with
absolute geometrical accuracy; and that is the parabolic. If a cone be
cut through in a plane or direction parallel to its inclined side, the curve
bounding this section will be a parabola. This conic section or figure
can be correctly drawn upon paper by a mechanical operation alone;
but a number of points may be laid down by the compasses through
which the curve may be drawn, with sufficient accuracy for the purpose
of showing its several properties.
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OPTICS.
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In the annexed diagram Fig. 3. DAR is the directrix of the para-
bola, because by it the drawing of the figure is guided. The perpen-
dicular A X is the axis cutting the parabola into two equal parts: The
point V is the vertex of the axis: all other perpendiculars to the direc-
trix, such as OPM, DTL, are diameters. The point F, upon the axis,
at a distance from the directrix at A, double that from V to A, is the
focus of the parabola. It is a character of this curve, that if from any
point in it, as from P, a line be drawn to the focus as PF, and another
perpendicular to the directrix as PO, these two lines will always be
equal. In the same way TF is equal to TD. Upon this property is
founded the method of drawing a parabola by a number of points, in
this way. On the middle of the directrix DR, draw the prependicular
AX, on which set off A V and VF equal to each other, and of such a
length as may suit the intended parabola, of which V will be the prin-
cipal vertex, F the focus, and VFX the axis or principal diameter.
Divide V X into a number of equal parts, the more and the smaller the
more accurate will be the figure, as in the points 1, 2, &c. through
which lines are to be drawn parallel to the directrix, and consequently
at right angles to the axis; these lines are called ordinates. Placing
one foot of the compasses in A and opening the other beyond V to 1
upon the axis, with that opening, from the focus F as a centre, make
intersections at P and a on the ordinate passing through 1, when these
two points will be in the curve of the parabola. Again with the dis-
tance from A to 2 in the compasses make marks at ec on the ordinate
drawn through 2. In this way from the focus F, with the distance
from A to any other point in the axis AX, make marks on the ordinate
passing through that point, when those marks will be parts of the pa-
rabolic curve. That lines drawn from any point of a parabola to the
focus and perpendicular to the directrix are equal, will be evident in
this way. Take the point P, the extremity of the ordinate P 1 a: that
point was fixed by intersecting a line through 1, parallel to the di-
✓
F.3.


OPTICS.
73
rectrix, with an opening of the compasses set off from the focus F,
equal to the space A 1: but A 1, and PO being parallel and connect-
ing parallels, they must necessarily be equal: consequently PF being
made equal to 1 A, it must also be equal to PO. In the same way
TF is equal to TD; for it was set off from F with a distance equal
to A 8, which is equal to TD. If the angle formed at any point of
the parabola, by a perpendicular to the directrix, and a line to the fo-
cus, be divided into two equal parts by a line from that point; such
a line will be a tangent to the parabola at that point, and if pro-
duced both ways will never fall within it. Thus the angle DTF
is divided into two equal angles by TN drawn from the angular
point T, and if produced in the opposite direction to S, will fall
without the parabola. When two right lines intersect each other, the
angles on each side are equal. LD intersecting SN in T, the angles
LIS and DTN are equal: but DTN was made equal to NTF, con-
sequently LTS must be equal to NTF. Suppose now LT to be a ray
of light parallel to a centre ray XV, falling upon the concave parabolic
surface at T: the tangent NTS may be considered as coinciding, for
an indefinitely small space, at T with the curve; if therefore the ray
LT strike the plane surface, NS at T, it will be reflected in TF in
such a direction that FTN the angle of reflection will be equal to
LTS the angle of incidence; the ray LT will therefore be reflected
to F, the focus of the parabola. In the same way it may be shown
that all other rays, parallel to the centre ray, XF V, will be reflected
from the concave surface to the focus F. For if through the point P a
line be drawn bisecting the angle OPF, that line would be a tangent
to the parabola at P, and the ray M P would be reflected to F, making
the angles of reflection and incidence equal. Hence it necessarily fol-
lows that rays of light, striking on the concavity of a parabolic mirror,
in a direction parallel to the axis passing through the focus, will all be
united after reflection in that focus: a fact that can happen in no other
kind of curve whatever.
15.

But notwithstanding all that has been said, it is to be observed that
the small portion on each side of the principal vertex of the parabola,
as PVa, contained in the greater mirror of a telescope, will so nearly
coincide with the arch of a circle passing through these points, that their
disagreement may be imperceptible to the best aided eye. This disa-
greement, however, as has been shown, is certainly real: and an error
in the reflection of light being much more important than an equal
error in its refraction, the effects of the disagreement between the circu-
lar and the parabolic arch of the great mirror must become of the
greatest consequence: but to form a mirror or speculum of a true
parabolic concavity is always a work of extreme difficulty.
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OPTICS.
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Let A B, fig. 4. be a concave spherical mirror, of which the centre is
C, and D the termination of a ray passing through it. Let a b be any
object placed before the mirror beyond the centre. The image of this
figure will be seen between the centre and the mirror, as if suspended
in the air and reversed as in the figure c d. Rays from every part of
the side of a b, turned towards the mirror, will be alike reflected from
every part of the concave surface; but here we confine ourselves to
one point, viz. the extremity a. From a let three rays a A, a D, and
a B, be drawn to the mirror, and from their extremities other lines be
drawn to the centre C. Upon these last lines draw the lines of reflec-
tion A c, D c, and Bc, meeting at c, which will therefore be the image
of the point a of the object a b. In the same way, had rays been drawn
to the mirror from the other end of the object b, they would, after re-
flection, have met in the point d; and the whole object a b would ap-
pear in the air reversed as in c d. The position of this image reflected
from a spherical mirror, when the original object is beyond the centre
of concavity, may in general be found by this position: as the distance
between the object and the mirror, or o Ď, is to the radius of concavity
CD, so is the distance of the object without the centre, or o C, to the
distance of the image within the centre, or C. When the object is on
the outside of the centre of the mirror, the image within it is smaller
than the object: when the original is between the centre and the mir-
ror, as suppose cd, the image will be larger and beyond the centre as
a b: when the object is placed in the centre of the concavity, the
image is reflected back upon the original, and of the same size. Place
yourself right before a concave spherical mirror, but farther off than its
centre, and you will see your figure in the air, but upside down, and
smaller than yourself. Hold out your hand towards the mirror, and
the hand of the image will come out towards you; and when your hand
is advanced to the centre of concavity, the other will coincide with it,
of exactly the same bulk, so that you seem to shake hands with your
own image. If your hand go on farther towards the mirror, the hand of
the image will be seen between the centre and your body; if your hand
be moved towards either side, the hand of the image will move to the
OPTICS
75
contrary. One curious particular of this is, that none of the byc-
standers will perceive any part of the image, because none of the re-
flected rays will enter the eyes of any person, not standing in your pre-
cise position.
A ray of light falling perpendicularly upon a convex surface, as the
outside of a globe, is reflected back in the same line; but every other
ray parallel to it will be thrown off and dispersed with an angle of re-
flection equal to the angle of incidence, measured from the continuation
of the radius of the sphere, and increasing in magnitude as the paralle
rays are more and more remote from the perpendicular ray. Thus sup-
pose ED in fig. 4, to be a ray falling perpendicularly, or in the pro-
duced direction of the radius DC, on the exterior convex surface of a
mirror A D B, it will be reflected in DE; but the ray Ff parallel to
ED makes the angle Ffg with the perpendicular or produced radius
fg, and consequently flies off at an equal angle gfh. The next pa-
rallel ray Ih forms with the perpendicular klan angle of incidence I
kl still greater than the former: it will therefore depart more widely
in its reflection in the line km, and so on.
Magnifying Glasses or Lenses. That rays of light in passing obliquely
from one medium or substance into another, are refracted more or less
towards the perpendicular to the second medium, according as that
medium is denser or rarer than the first, was shown in explaining fig. 2.
There however the observations were confined to substances of parallel
plane surfaces; but when the media have spherical or other curved
surfaces, the effects of refraction are peculiar and most important.-
Parallel rays falling upon a plano-convex lens, will be so refracted as to
converge and unite in a point behind the plane side, which is the prin-
cipal focus of the lens ; and its distance from the convex surface is always
equal to the diameter of a sphere of which that surface is a portion.
But when parallel rays fall upon a lens convex on both sides, they will
be refracted into a point behind it, which is the centre of the same
sphere. This is the case when the convexity of both sides is equal:
when the two sides are portions of different spheres, the distance of the
focus is found by combining the radii of both in this way: as the sum
of the radii of both convexities is to the radius of one of them, so is dou-
ble the radius of the other to the distance of the focus. Since all the
rays of the sun which pass through a convex glass, are collected together
in its focus, there must also be assembled all their heat, in proportion
to the common heat of the sun, as the surface of the glass is to that
of the focus; hence the power of burning-glasses.
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70
OPTICS.
Let aexbo, fig. 5. be a section of a lens, equally convex on both
sides, that is, the arch a ex b is equal to the arch a ob. Let a ray of
light through m fall exactly on the middle of the lens; it will pass di-
rectly through the centre of the lens, and be afterwards continued in
the same direction without inflection or refraction of any kind, as
m Cn. Parallel to this centre ray let another pass through d and enter
the lens at e. This ray, as will be seen by a reference to fig. 4, will
fall obliquely on the circular surface of the lens, and be refracted as in
eo, in a direction pointing to n, the extremity of the diameter of the
circle a r n s b, of which the convexity of the lens is a portion. But
when the ray comes out of the opposite surface at o, which is of the
same convexity, it will be again refracted to C, the centre of that
circle, that is, to a point at half the distance of n, to which the refrac-
tion e o was directed. After its arrival at C, the ray de will proceed
in the direction of o C, without any other inflection. What here hap-
pens to this ray will happen to every other ray parallel to m C: but
their positions will be inverted. The upper ray c will after refraction
through C become the lower ray, and the lower ray r will become the
upper ray beyond C. Consequently rays falling upon a lens of equal
convexities will be refracted towards a continuation of the centre ray,
and will all meet in it, in the centre of the circle of which the external
convexity of the lens is a portion. At that centre, which is the focus
of the lens, the position of the several rays will be inverted, and they
will all diverge in the directions in which they met. But suppose now
another lens, of exactly the same convexities with the former, to be
placed equally distant from C, and that the ray m C shall pass through
its centre to n, then all the rays diverging from C, will enter the inter-
nal convexity of the lens, be refracted toward the centre ray n, and
again on coming out of the glass into the air, be refracted still more,
and then be continued parallel to the centre ray (although in an in-
verted order) as they were originally before they entered the first lens.
For example, the ray de being refracted down into e o, and again into
o C, will enter the second lens atv, there be refracted up into v p, in a
direction pointing to the end of the diameter 1, just as e o was directed
to the other end n, and on leaving the lens at p, be again refracted
into a direction parallel to the centre ray mt Cn. If a candle be placed
at C, the focus of the lens a ob, the light after passing through it, will
proceed in parallel rays: but if the flame be placed between C and the
lens, the rays will diverge; and if it be placed farther from the lens
than C, the rays will converge, and meet at a point more or less distant
from the glass, as the candle is nearer to or farther from the focus C:
and where they meet they will form an image of the candle reversed,
with the flame downward. The truth of this may be seen by receiv-
ing on a piece of paper the image of a candle passing through a com-
mon reading or even good spectacle-glass.
The effect of concentring the rays of light and heat from the
sun, by means of a lens, are much more powerful than will easily
be believed. Burning-glasses appear to have been known to some
of the ancients. Diodorus Siculus, and other late historians, affirm
that, above two hundred years before our Saviour, the great geo-
metrician Archimedes, by means of glasses or other mirrors, set fire
to the Roman ships of war employed in the siege of Syracuse in Sicily.
This apparatus, however, if there be any truth in the story, was more
.

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OPTICS.
ryry
•
probably composed of reflecting mirrors than of transparent lenses.
That the use of lenses was really known in Greece long before that
time, is plain from a passage in the famous comedy of the Clouds,
in which Socrates, then living, is ridiculed. Of the modern burning-
lenses the most powerful by far is that constructed for the late ce-
lebrated Dr. Priestley, by Mr. Parker of Fleet Street, London. It
is made of flint-glass three feet in diameter; but when fixed in the
frame, the surface is reduced to two feet eight inches and a half.
It is circular, three inches and a quarter thick in the middle, and
diminishing in sections of large spheres to the edge, which is thin.
The distance from the glass to the focus where the rays meet, is six
feet eight inches, and the focus is one inch in diameter. But the
refracted rays are made to fall upon another lens thirteen inches in
the clear, behind which they unite in a focus only three-eighths of
an inch in diameter; consequently the area of the great lens was 7511
times greater than that of the last focus, where therefore the light
and heat accumulated must, if the glass could have been made ab-
solutely perfect, have been so many time greater than the natural
light and heat of the sun, upon a surface three-eights of an inch in
diameter. The glasses are mounted on a frame and stand, to be
placed according to the sun's elevation; and the substances on which
experiments are to be made, are placed by a part of the apparatus
on a small iron plate. The results of some of the experiments made
in the presence of men of science by this machine, are the follow-
ing:-Every kind of wood placed on the plate in the focus, took fire
in an instant. Iron plates grew hot in a moment, and then melted.
Tiles, slates, and earth of all sorts, became instantly red, and were
converted into glass. Sulphur, pitch, and all resinous substances,
melted when they were in the focus, although under water. Fire-
wood exposed to the focus under water presented no outward change
of appearance; but when taken out and broken, the inside was found
to be reduced to charcoal. When a hollow was made in a piece of
charcoal, and in it were placed the substances to be acted upon, the
power of the glass was much increased. Metals thus inclosed in
charcoal were melted in a moment, the fire sparkling like that of a
forge. The ashes of wood, paper, linen, and all vegetable substances,
were turned in a moment into a transparent glass. The substances
the most difficult to be wrought upon were those of a white colour,
because white is the most powerful reflector of light and heat.
All
metals were vitrified on a china plate, when it was thick enough
not to melt, and the heat was gradually communicated. When cop-
per was melted in this way, and immediately thrown into cold wa-
ter, it produced a shock so violent as to break the strongest earthen
vessel, and the copper was entirely dissipated. A piece of pure gold
weighing 20 grains was melted or fused in 3 seconds of time;
pure silver 20 gr. in 4 sec.; pure copper, 33 gr. required 20 sec. ;
platina 10 gr. was fused in 3 sec.; bar-iron in a cube of 10 gr. in
12 sec.; cast-iron in a cube of 10 gr. in 3 sec.; steel in a cube of
10 gr. in 12 sec.; an oriental emerald of 2 gr. required 25 sec.;
but a crystal pebble of 7 gr. was fused in 6 sec; white agate 10
gr. in 30 sec.; oriental flint 10 gr. in 30 sec.; rough cornelian 10
gr. in 75 sec.; rotten stone 10 gr. in 80 sec; common slate 10 gr.
-
78
OPTICS.
1
in 2 sec.; lime stone 10 gr. in 55 sec.; lava 10 gr. in 7 sec.; moor
stone 10 grains in 60 seconds.
'
Although the heat of the focus was so intense as to melt gold in
a few seconds, yet the finger, it is said, could be placed in the cone
of rays, within an inch of the focus, without receiving injury: this
however requires confirmation. A person had the curiosity to try
what was the feeling of burning in the focus, and placing his finger
in it, he reported the sensation to be very different from that of a
burning by a fire or a candle, being exactly like the sharp cut with
a lancet. By a burning-glass a piece of wood may be charred, in
the midst of a decanter of water, and yet the sides of the decanter will
not be cracked or otherwise affected, nor will the water be at all warm-
ed, not even if the wood be taken out, and the rays collected in a focus
in the water. If however a piece of metal be introduced, it soon be-
comes too hot to be touched, and communicating heat to the water
will make it even boil. It is on account of the metallic substance of
the vitriol in ink that water may be heated by the glass, when a little
ink is mixed with it.

Down to the time of Sir Isaac Newton it was believed that light, in
passing from one medium into another, was all equally reflected; but
he discovered that light was not one simple body entirely homogeneous
or of the same nature; being composed of different parts, which un-
derwent different degrees of refraction, and thereby excited in our minds
the ideas of different colours. The separation of a ray of white light
into its component parts may be witnessed in this easy way :-Let a
room exposed to the sun be darkened, so that no light can enter but
by a small hole made in the window shutter. Let the ray of light
from the hole fall upon the perpendicular side of a triangular solid piece
of clear glass or prism, and at a convenient distance placing a sheet of
white paper, the ray will be thrown up upon it, after refraction through
two sides of the prism, not in a circle of white light, but in an ob-
long figure, standing perpendicularly, and containing different colours
and occupying different portions of the figure or spectrum. If the up-
right length of the spectrum be divided into 360 equal parts, the se-
veral colours, beginning at the lowest, will appear in the following or-
der and proportion:-The lowest is red, occupying 45 of those parts,
the second is orange, 27; the third yellow, 48; the fourth green, 60;
the fifth blue, 60; the sixth indigo, 40; and the seventh or uppermost
is violet, 80. Among the many interesting inferences suggested by this
arrangement, it may be here observed that, if the fifth light blue, and
the sixth dark blue be considered as different shades of the some colour,
it will hold true that a mixture of two alternate colours will produce
the intermediate colour. Thus the first red and the third yellow, give
the second orange; the third yellow, and the fifth and sixth blue, give
the fourth green; the fifth and sixth blue and the first red, will pro-
duce violet of different shades, &c. From these facts it would appear
that the component parts of a ray of white light may be reduced from
seven to three, viz. red, yellow, and blue, by different combinations of
which all other colours and tints may be produced. When these coloured
rays are duly united they produce white; and although we are in the
habit of considering its opposite black as also a real colour, yet it is in
fact merely a term by which we would express the negation or absence


OPTICS.
79
ሩ
of all colour together. When all light is excluded objects of every
colour appear black, or, to speak more correctly, they wholly disappear;
and in such a case, by darkness and blackness, we mean not that the
objects have lost or changed their several colours, but that in the ab-
sence of light their colours are imperceptible. Hence we are led to
another inference, that colours are not real qualities, inherent in the
several substances of which the objects are composed, but modifications
of light produced by the nature of the component particles of those
substances, refracting and reflecting particular portions of light, ac-
cording to the peculiar structure and position of those particles.
The separation of light into seven different colours, by the triangular
glass prism, was already mentioned: if on the other hand we could
procure very fine powders exactly of those colours and in precisely the
same proportions, and were to mingle them most intimately together,
the whole mixture would, in proportion to the perfection of the expe-
riment, assume more and more of a whitish tinge. The same effect
will be produced by painting the rim of a wheel in the same colours and
proportions, and whirling it about with the greatest rapidity. That
different coloured substances possess different powers of receiving or
reflecting rays of light and heat was long ago shown by the sagacious
practical philosopher Dr. B. Franklin. In one of his treatises he fur-
nishes the following instructive statement:-" Let me now mention an
experiment which you may easily make yourself. Walk but a quarter
of an hour in your garden when the sun shines, with a part of your
dress white and a part black: then apply your hand to them alternately,
and you will find a very great difference in their warmth. The black
will be quite hot to the touch; the white still cool. Another experi-
ment: try to fire paper with a burning-glass: if it be white, you will
not easily burn it; but if you bring the focus to a black spot, or upon
letters written or printed, the paper will be immediately on fire under the
letters. Thus fullers and dyers find black cloths of equal thickness with
white ones, and hung out equally wet, dry in the sun much sooner than
the white; being more readily heated by the sun's rays. It is the
same before a fire: the heat sooner penetrates black stockings than white
ones, and sooner scorches a man's shins. Beer much sooner warms in
a black mug than in a white one, or in a bright silver tankard. But
my principal experiment was this: I took a number of little square
pieces of broad cloth, from a taylor's pattern-card, of various colours.
These were black, deep blue, lighter blue, green, purple, red, yellow,
white, and other colours or shades of colours. I laid them all out upon
the snow in a bright sun-shiny morning, In a few hours (I cannot
now be exact as to the time) the black being most warmed by the sun
was sunk so low in the snow as to be below the stroke of the sun's rays;
the dark blue almost as low; the light blue not quite so much as the
dark; the other colours less as they were lighter; and the quite white
remained on the surface of the snow, not having entered it at all.-
But what signifies philosophy that does not apply to some use? May
we not learn from hence that black clothes are not so fit to wear in a
hot sunny climate or season, as white clothes; that soldiers and sea-
men who must labour in the sun, should, in the East and West Indies,
have an uniform of white: that summer hats should be white to repel
the heat, which to many gives headachs, and to some the dreadful and
usually-fatal stroke the French call coup-de-soleil: that the lower parts
*↓
80
OPTICS.
of hats, however, should be black, as not reverberating on the face
the rays reflected up from the earth or water: that fruit-walls being
blacked may receive so much heat from the sun in the day-time, as to
continue warm, in some degree, through the night, and thereby pre-
serve and forward the fruit," &c.
In support of these sensible observations of Dr. Franklin, we may
notice the surprising fact, well known to all who have climbed, or at-
tempted to climb the lofty Mont Blanc, in the Alps, between Italy and
Switzerland, that in making their way along or across the deep vallies
which furrow the mountain sides, paved and lined with snow and ice,
of perpetual duration and primeval antiquity, the air is often so in-
tensely heated by the sun's rays, reflected from the brilliant white
surface on all sides, as to become unfit for human breathing and life;
while the snow and ice remain almost entirely unaffected by the
warmth. From the whole of these remarks it may be concluded that
whiteness is produced by the abundant, not to say total, reflection and
due proportion of all the colours composing a ray of light; and
that blackness proceeds from the peculiar quality of a body which
absorbs and stifles the rays falling on it; so that instead of reflecting
them outwards, they are as it were reflected inwards, till they are en-
tirely lost. Hence we may see why black and dark-coloured clothes
absorb the light and the heat of rays proceeding from the sun or fire,
while white and light-coloured clothes reflect both and retain little of
either.
A
•


The most remarkable example of the refraction and reflection of the
rays of light is given in the rainbow. This magnificent phenomenon is
generally produced by the reflection and refraction of the sun's rays,
from and through the globular drops of rain. Similar appearances are
also produced, although very faint, by the light of the moon. The
broken water of the waves of the sea, and even the dew on the ground,
show the same effect, as do cascades and fountains; and water blown
violently from the mouth of a person standing with his back to the
sun, will exhibit a rainbow. Of the same kind are the halos or circles
about the moon, and the everchanging colours seen on a soap-bubble.
Of the Eye. This admirable organ acts precisely as an optic lens:
it is of a globular form; but more protuberant before than in any other
part. It consists of three coats inclosing different substances or humours,
the outermost from its toughness, called sclerotica, being strong elastic
and white like parchment; the back part is thick and opaque, growing
thinner as it approaches the front which swells out and is perfectly
transparent: this convex part is the cornea, from its resembling the
clear horn of a lantern. The next inner coat is the choroides so called
from its abounding in small vessels. Like the sclerotica it consists of
two parts, the fore part being the iris, which begins at the same place
with the cornea. The iris, called also the uvea, consists of two kinds
of fibres, the one set tending like rays to the centre, and the other set
forming a number of circles round the centre. This centre is pierced
through, and the opening called the pupil, may, by the action of the
fibres, be enlarged or contracted, according as the light proceeding from
an object is weak or strong: in different persons the iris is of different
colours, black, blue, brown, hazel, &c. The whole of the choroides
being opaque, no light can enter the eye but through the opening of the
pupil. The third membrane of the eye is the retina, because it is



OPTICS.
81
*
}
spread like a net all over the interior part of the choroides. This fine
and delicate membrane proceeding from the optic nerve, serves to receive
the images of objects, produced by the refraction of the different humours
of the eye, represented on its surface. From the hinder and lower
part of the retina proceeds the optic nerve, which conveys to the brain
the sensation occasioned by the rays of light striking upon the retina,
itself an expansion of that nerve; a strong proof this that light is a
real, although inconceivably subtile material substance. These coats
of the eye inclose three transparent substances or huinours, the aqueous,
the crystalline, and the vitreous. The aqueous humour, so called be-
cause it is the most fluid and clear like water, forms the front of the
eye in which swims the iris. The crystalline humour is as transparent
as the purest crystal, but hard like a strong jelly: its form resembles
a double convex lens. The vitreous humour is so named from its being
like melted glass, and fills the whole interior of the eye, behind the
*crystalline.
To conceive how vision or sight is performed, suppose an object
placed at a proper distance, with its centre on a right line passing
through the centre of the eye. From what was said of double convex
lenses, amongst which are to be classed the humours of the front of the
eye, rays from every point of the object will fall upon the cornea, and
passing through the humours and the pupil will be converged to as
many corresponding points on the retina in the back of the eye,
where an accurate image of the object, but inverted, will be represented.
But if the image be thus turned upside down, how comes it, we may
ask, that we see objects in their real position? Of this fact various
explanations are given; but after all it may perhaps be best accounted
for from experience. Children have in this way learned to understand
the true position of objects, long before they can explain, or even in-
quire into the process by which they do so; and instances of blind per-
sons being restored to sight, after they came to full years, are too rare
to furnish the proper information. It was from experience that the
young man, whose eyes were first opened by Chesselden, learned to
judge of the distances, forms, and colours, of objects; but what his
notions were respecting their inverted positions, we are not told.-
When I stand before a mirror with a glove in my right hand, the image
in the glass looking out to me has also a glove in the hand directly
opposite to mine: but if a person were really standing before and facing
me, the glove in his right hand would be on the other side opposite to
my left hand. From constant experience therefore, acquired in early
infancy and long continued, do we learn instantaneously and almot
instinctively to place objects in their real position, notwithstanding
the inverted position of their images in the eye.
It is not the least admirable circumstance in the structure and ap-
plication of the eyes, that although both are directed to one object,
and consequently images must be figured on the retina of both, yet
but one sensation is excited in the brain. For when the axis of both
eyes are directed to the same object, and two sets of rays enter each
eye, still the effects produced by them on the optic nerve of each eye,
are united in one identical part of the brain: consequently the senation
of one and the same object only is excited; but this sensation will be
twice as powerful as if the object had been seen by one eye only. If
M



G
1
.82
OPTICS.
both eyes be not similarly turned to the object, two images will be
formed, and vision will be confounded.
SPECTACLES. It was before observed that the rays of light passing
through a thin and perfectly flat glass, every where of equal thickness,
are considered to undergo no change: if, however, the glass be ever se
little thicker in the middle than at the edges, or convex, the rays will
meet in a point more or less distant from the glass as it is less or more
convex. The magnifying power is therefore in proportion to the convex-
ity. We judge of the magnitude of objects by the angle formed at the
eye by rays from its extremities. From a small object, as a printed
letter of a word in a book, but few rays can go directly through the
pupil of the eye; but on a glass of an inch in diameter many more
rays will fall, and if it be convex they will be collected in a point,
in such a way as to pass through the pupil, and give a very complete
representation of the object; and the greater the surface of the "con-
vexity, the greater will be the number of rays assembled on the retina.
By this process as many rays are collected in the eye from a letter of
one-eighth of an inch in height, as would have gone directly to the
retina from another letter of twice or thrice the size. The nearer any
object is brought to the eye, the greater is the angle under which it is
seen, and the more it will be magnified in our imagination. But this
nearness to the eye is limited; for when an object is nearer than
about six inches, vision becomes indistinct with the generality of peo-
ple. By the help of convex glasses, however, we are able to view
things much closer to the eye: for objects being distinctly visible when
in the focus of the glass, the greater the convexity of the glass, the
nearer is its focus, and the more powerfully will it magnify. If the
cornea or the crystalline humour of the eye, or both, be too flat, the rays
that pass through the pupil will not converge upon the retina, but be-
hind it: the sight of the object must of course be imperfect and indis-
tinct. To remedy this evil a convex glass of a proper focal distance
must be placed before the eye to refract the rays towards the centre
ray, and so cause them to meet sooner than they did before, and there-
fore make the proper image on the retina. If on the other hand the
cornea or crystalline humour be too convex or protuberant, the rays
passing through the pupil will meet in the vitreous portion of the eye,
before they reach the retina, and an equal indistinctness of vision will
be produced. This is to be remedied by placing a concave glass before
the eye, which by diverging the rays will prevent their meeting until
they arrive back at the retina. The different distances at which differ-
ent persons, or the same persons at different periods of life, can see dis-
tinctly, or the length of their sight, must depend on the convexity of
the cornea and crystalline humour of the eye. The rounder these are,
the nearer will be the focus or meeting of the rays, and the nearer
must be any object, in order to be distinctly seen. Short-sighted peo-
ple have the eye more than commonly protuberant in the front, which
having a short focal distance requires objects to be brought very close
to the eye. Long-sight, on the contrary, most commonly produced
by age, which flattens the front of the eye, signifies that the focal dis-
tance is greater than it ought to be: objects must therefore, to be dis-
tinctly seen, be removed from the eye. Hence we see old persons hold
objects far off from the eyes, and short-sighted people holdclose to the


"3.
OPTICS.
eyes the objects examined. Both these extremes are inconvenient; but
the aged are to recollect the advantages and pleasures they enjoyed in
their earlier days of perfect sight, and be thankful that relief is to be
obtained by employing a machine, so admirably simple as well as use-
ful as common spectacles. The short-sighted ought, on the other hand,
to be grateful for these two important advantages: that in youth they
can distinguish much smaller objects than the long-sighted, and that
age by flattening their eyes will improve them, while others are obliged
to have recourse to magnifying glasses.
Spectacles in frames ought not to be placed in the same straight line
as is the common way, but pointing a little outwards at each end, or
in the arch of a great circle with the convexity turned towards the nose.
For the two eyes being directed to the same object the lines of sight
cannot be parallel, and unless the glass be placed at right angles to
those lines the sight must be imperfect. The large reading or hand-
glass is only a more powerful spectacle-glass. Another material error
in the construction of common spectacles is that the glasses are made by
far too large. This will be manifest when we consider how small the
pupil of the eye is, and that more light upon the eye than can enter the
pupil can be of no use. If the aperture of the glass were no greater
than that of the pupil, the object seen would be very distinct; but in
many cases there might not be sufficient light to observe it, and the
field of view would be much too confined. If, however, the aperture of
the glass be three-fourths of an inch, it will answer every purpose of
reading, working, &c.: and the light admitted will be but one-fourth
part of that received unnecessarily by common glasses of one inch and
an half in aperture. The injury produced by improper spectacles is
not immediately perceived; but when after long use of them the sight
comes to be sensibly impaired, it is considered as the natural conse-
quence of age; although the greater part of the evil be occasioned by
the too great body of light thrown upon the eye, and the glasses being
placed in the same straight line, the direction of the sight is never at
right angles to the position of the glasses.
F.6.
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That objects are only in appearance, and not in reality enlarged or
magnified, by convex lenses or glasses, will be manifest from a consi-
deration of the annexed figure. Let A B be any object two feet in
height from B, the level of the eye at E at a distance of six feet. The
apparent magnitude of AB will be represented by the angle A EB,
formed by the extreme rays A E and EB. Suppose two other objects
of similar forms be placed at G two feet from E, and at D four feet from
E, each being respectively of such a magnitude, as F G and C D, that
they will just fill the space comprehended within the bounding rays
D
B
!



1
84
OPTICS.
EA and E B. In this case the three objects subtending an equal angle
at the eye will consequently all appear of the same magnitude; and if
the observer were ignorant of their several positions he might consider
them to be all standing together joined, and therefore equal to AB.
We know, however, by the rule of proportion that if A B distant six
feet, be two feet high, CD distant four feet must be one foot four
inches, and F G distant two feet must be eight inches high. We have,
therefore, three objects all apparently of the same bulk, although the
one be but one-third and the other two-thirds of the largest.


$
Let the parallelogram EK A B be completed, produce GF to I, and
DC to H, and draw IE and HE: and changing the magnitudes and
distances of the objects, let A B be an object of the height of two
inches, placed at the distance of distinct vision, or six inches, from the
eye at E, in which are conveyed the rays proceeding from the object.
Let now A B be brought nearer to the eye and occupy the place of
DCH; the angle of apparent magnitude will be HED greater than
A EB; but being within four inches of the eye the focus of distinct
vision will be moved back to X, two inches behind E; the image at
E will therefore be imperfect. If however by introducing a convex
lens between E and DCH, the rays be made to converge at E, the
object will be distinctly perceived, with this additional advantage that
it will be seen under an enlarged angle HED. Suppose the object
moved to IFG, within two inches of the eye; the focus of distinct vi-
sion will be carried back beyond X to a point four inches behind E
and the object will be very indistinctly seen. If, however, by a lens of
great convexity the rays from IF G be converged at E, the object will
he seen under the great angle I EG, and consequently the whole and
every particular part of it will to the eye appear greatly magnified.
Now to apply this reasoning; AB in height two inches, at the dis
tance of six inches from E is seen under the angle AEB, which
is found by trigonometry to contain eighteen degrees twenty-six
minutes. But when AB is brought to HC Dit is seen under the
angle H E D, of twenty-six degrees thirty-four minutes, which at the
proper distance, six inches would comprehend an object three inches in
height, Again, when A B is brought to I F G it subtends the great
angle I E G, of 45 degrees: but an object seen under such an angle
at the proper distance of six inches, would, in fact be six inches in
height consequently an object of a certain magnitude at the distance
of proper vision, will, when brought by a convex lens to the focal dis-
tance of four inches, be enlarged one-half, and when within two inches
of the eye, be enlarged to three times its original size. But if A B in-
stead of a line be a surface as a square of two inches a side, the area
will be four inches; one of three inches will contain nine inches; and
one of six inches will contain thirty-six square inches, or nine times
more than one of two inches. Consequently by means of the convex
lenses the same effects are produced in the eye as would be produced
by examining at the point of distinct vision an object really so many
times larger than AB: and not only the whole object, but each particular
part being proportionally enlarged, what at six inches was just dis
cernable by the eye, may by a lens be enlarged so much as to be
perfectly seen and distinguished. When it is considered that by in-
creasing the convexity of a lens, its magnifying power is gradually ni
creased, and that by combining two, three, or more lenses together, that



OPTICS.
85

power will receive still farther augmentation, the magnifying powers of
glasses must, in theory, be unlimited. In practice, however, from the
imperfection of the substances of which the finest glasses can be made,
from the reflections and peculiar refractions of their parts, and from
other causes, by which a great part of the rays of light are dissipated
and lost, our power of enlarging objects comes far short of what might
be expected. On this head it has been deemed proper to write at some
length, because on it is founded the whole doctrine of magnifying
glasses, from the common spectacles to the most perfect telescope to ex-
plore the most remote corner of the heavens, and the most powerful
microscope by which we can examine the most minute particles of ob-
jects around us.
Telescopes. This admirable instrument is so named from two Greek
words télé at a distance, and scopos one who views, because by it we
can descry and examine objects far beyond the bounds of natural sight.
The power of a single lens or convex lens, in collecting the heat of the
sun, it was already said, was known to remote antiquity: yet it is
equally true, though difficult to conceive, that the same ancients should
know that such glasses would burn, and not find out that they also
magnified. This, however, may have been owing to the form of their
burning-glasses, which are described as balls or globes, some of them.
solid glass or crystal, others hollow and filled with water. Now it is
known that a globular lens, causes the rays passing through it to con-
verge very near its surface, namely at one fourth part of their diameter.
Supposing then an ancient lens to have been even six inches in diameter,
the focus of its refracted rays would be placed within 1 inch of its
surface, so that the magnifying power might long remain unobserv-
ed, for unless both the object and the eye had been placed at that
short but precise distance from the opposite sides of the globe, the
magnifying property could never be perceived. It is in fact much
more wonderful that, in later times, when science had made much
greater progress, nearly three centuries should have intervened between
the invention of spectacles at Pisa in Italy in 1299, and that of tele-
scopes in Holland in 1590. This discovery, as the story goes, was,
like many others of great importance, the fruit of accident, and not
of scientific research and experiment. A boy and a girl, children of
Jansen, a maker of spectacles in Holland, at play in his work-shop.
with some glasses of which they knew the magnifying property, ob-
served, that by looking through two glasses the one concave, and the
other convex, at a certain distance asunder, the objects appeared much
larger than when seen through a single glass. Telling this fact to their
father, he immediately contrived to place two or more glasses, first in
an open frame, and afterwards, in order to exclude all side-light, in a
tube, and the telescope was brought into existence. This grand dis-
covery was soon spread abroad, and in 1610 the celebrated Galileo of
Florence, by a telescope of his own contrivance, had a view of the moons
or satellites, that roll round the planet Jupiter.
܀


Telescopes are of different sorts, according to their nature and pro-
perties: the original was of course refracting, and had the disadvantages
that it admitted but a small field of view, and that all objects appeared
inverted, which rendered it unfit for examining such as were on the
earth; in celestial researches it was of great use. In the refracting te-
lescope the glass next to the observer is called the eye-glass, and the one

86
OPTICS.

#
at the other end is the object-glass. The magnifying power of this
instrument is found by dividing the focal distance of the object-glass
by that of the eye-glass; thus if the focal distance of the object-glass,
or the distance between the glass and the point where the rays are con-
verged be 100 inches, and that of the eye-glass be 2 inches, the quo-
tient is 40, the number of times that such a telescope will magnify any
object.
3
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27
a.
-
b
1°
S
*
g.
Telescopes for viewing terrestrial objects and representing them, not
inverted, but in their natural positions, are made as is shown in the above
figure, in which E is the eye, and m n is the object to be viewed ; a b is
the object-glass, and cd ef and g h are three eye-glasses, placed so near
each other, that the rays passing through any two will meet in the same
focus; that is to say the rays refracted from a b and c d for instance,
will meet in the common focus r. A ray from the upper. part of the
object a will, on entering the object-glass a b, be refracted down through
the focus r, and enter the lens cd; thence it will be refracted upwards
through the common focus to the lens e f Again a ray from n,
the
other extremity of the object, will, by passing through the same glasses,
be also refracted to the lens ef; consequently if all the rays proceeding
from the object be converged as in the images, that image will be
seen by the eye E through the outer glass gl, in the same erect po-
sition as it is in nature at an, and the rays refracted from gh will
enter the pupil, and be painted on the retina as before. The three
eye-glasses have all the same focal distance; and the magnifying
power of the telescope is found by dividing the focal distance of the
object-glass by that of any one of the eye-glasses, as was before said.
When the rays of light are separated by refraction they are colour-
ed; but when unitel again they become white as at first.
Those rays,
however, which pass through a convex glass, near the edges, are more
unequally refracted than those passing towards the middle of the glass.
Rays thus unequally refracted will not meet in the same focus, and the
image they form will of course be coloured at the edge and indistinct.
To remedy this defect, a plate with a small round hole in the middle
is fixed in the tube of the telescope, at the place of the image s, by
which the wandering rays are stopt, and none but those from round
the middle of the lens ef can pass through. This advantage is how-
ever in some measure compensated by the lessening of the field of
view, which would be much larger without the perforated plate.
:
Telescopes by their magnifying property seem to bring distant ob-
jects near to the eye. A man at the distance of two hundred yards
will by a telescope magnifying a hundred times appear as distinctly as
if he really were only two yards off. If he does not appear to be en-
larged to a gigantic size, it is because all the objects around him be
ing equally magnified with himself, every object is presented in its
•
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1
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OPTICS.
87
just proportion. The magnifying power of a telescope may be found
by means of two equal circles drawn upon paper, an inch or more in
diameter. Fix one of them on a wall 100, or 150 yards off, and the
other at a short distance from you, nearly in the same line. Then
look at the farthest paper through the telescope with the one eye, and
at the nearest paper with the other eye naked; moving it backwards
or forwards until the two circles appear quite equal to the two eyes.
Measure the two distances from the eye-glass of the telescope to both
circles; divide the greater distance by the less, and the quotient will give
the magnifying power of the instrument. To try an object-glass, place
it in a tube, and with different eye-glasses, examine some objects placed
at a distance, particularly the title-page of a book. The object-glass
which shews the objects the most bright and distinct, admitting the
greatest field of view, with the eye-glass of the shortest focus, without
colouring or dimness, is the best. When several telescopes of the same
length are compared together, those are the best with which you can
read the same print at the greatest distance; a simple experiment for
the guidance of any one who buys a telescope.
The perfection of refracting telescopes consisting in their length, at
last the use of a tube to contain all the glasses was laid aside, and a
method was discovered by Huygens, of Holland, to make the instru-
ment of great length, but easily manageable. He fixed the object-glass
on the top of a long upright pole, directing its axis towards any object
by means of a silk line connected with the eye-glass below. In this
manner telescopes, although not formed of one continued tube, were
made of the length of 120 feet and upwards. Dr. Derham of Up-
minster in Essex, possessed a refracting telescope of this sort. To en-
able him to use it in examining celestial objects, much elevated above the
horizon, it was proposed furnish him with the tall maypole then
adorning Charing Cross in London. His treatises on Astro-theology
and Physico-theology are still deservedly popular; although many and
important alterations and additions have, since his time, been introduc-
ed into the subjects on which they treat, of which an excellent sum-
mary will be found in Archdeacon Paley's elements of natural theology.
to
The imperfections of even the most improved refracting telescopes
were so numerous, that ingenious men in different parts of Europe set
themselves to devise some other machine that might better answer the
same purposes. At last Dr. James Gregory, professor of geometry, first
at Aberdeen, and afterwards at Oxford, produced a telescope in which
objects are represented, not by the refraction, but by the reflection of
the rays of light proceeding from them. This admirable instrument
immediately obtained the complete approbation of Newton, and other
eminent philosophers; and upon this original scheme are founded all
later reflecting telescopes. A reflector of only six feet in length may
be constructed equally powerful with a refractor of a hundred feet.
The Gregorian, catadioptric, or reflecting telescope, is constructed as
in the longitudinal section shown at Fig. 1. of Plate 4th, to which the
following description refers. ABFGHICD, is a section of the eye-
end of a reflecting telescope. BC is the great mirror, of which the
section is a portion of a parabola on each side of the principal axis. In
the centre of this mirror is a circular aperture a c, and opposite to it is
a small mirror e n, supported on a strong wire reaching to the side of
the tube at A, where it is connected with an adjusting screw extending

1


88
OPTICS.

+
along AB, by turning which the small mirror may be placed at a pro-
per distance from the great mirtor, to suit the eye of the observer ·
placed at E, at the end of the small part of the tube. The rays of light
proceeding from any very distant object, as from the moon or a planet,
may be considered as all arriving in the telescope in a parallel direc-
tion. Thus the ray will fall on the great mirror near B, be thenice
reflected to the small mirror at it, and there be again reflected through
the aperture ac, upon the plano-convex glass FI, whence upon refrac-
tion, it will proceed to the similar eye-glass GH, and there lastly be
refracted to the observer's eye at E. In the same way the rays will
fall on the great mirror near C, be reflected to the small mirror at c,
and thence be refracted through the eye-glasses to the eye at E. In
the same manner the whole body of rays from the distant object which
enters the telescope, will, after reflection from the two mirrors, and re-
fraction through the lens FI, form the image ot, which will be in the
same attitude and position with the original object. The rays from
o and t, the extremities of the image, will, upon refraction through GH,
enter the eye at E in such directions as if they really came from the
points and the image o will therefore be beheld under the great
angle E, and will consequently appear enlarged to oiz; all parts
of which being so near to the eye, may be perfectly discernible.
In comparing the powers of telescopes of different constructions;
it may appear to be possible to endow them with any assignable mag-
nifying capacity; we have only to choose an object-glass of the greatest
rower, and an eye-glass of such convexity as to convey the image to
the eye, under the greatest possible angle. This is doubtless all true
in theory; but in practice it is unattainable. The principal causes of
this limitation are, 1st. the extreme difficulty of forming mirrors of con-
cavity perfectly parabolical; and 2d. that a ray of white light, as was
before stated, consists of different parts, not only of different colours.
but susceptible of different degrees of refraction. The consequence of
this is, that the image formed by such rays not meeting in the same
focus, must be confused, indistinct, and tinged with the several colours,
produced by the parts of each ray. To remedy this imperfection, a
most éffectual method was communicated to the world by the ingenious
optician Dollond of London, who, by a combination of convex and
concave object-lenses, contrived to balance their opposite refractions.
Telescopes of this kind admit a large aperture, by which a greater
number of rays are received, and a higher power of magnification may
be produced. From their preventing in the image the colours occasion-
ed by unequal refraction, Dollond's telescopes are said to be achromatic,
(a word often senselessly printed acromatic,) from a Greek term sig-
nifying devoid of colour.


MICROSCOPEs. The telescope is fitted to view large and distant
objects: the microscope, on the other hand, enables us to examine
other objects small and at hand, agreeably to its Greek name; for
micron is any thing of small bulk. Microscopes are either single or
compound, or solar. The single is merely a double convex lens, hav-
ing the object in the one focus where its refracted rays meet, and the
eye in the other focus: its magnifying power is found by dividing six
or seven inches, the shortest distance of natural vision, by the focal dis-
tance of the lens. Suppose the rays to be assembled in a focus part
of an inch from the lens, and that I can see the object without any help
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*
OPTICS.
89
at six inches, this divided by will give forty-eight for the power of the
glass. To another person who is short-sighted, and can see an object
at five inches, the lens will magnify only forty times; but to one of long
sight who sees best at seven inches, the same lens will magnify fifty-six
times.
3
The compound microscope contains an object-glass, and an eye-glass.
The object to be viewed is placed a little farther off than the focus of the
object-glass, that the rays from it may, after passing through the glass,
converge on the other side, and form an image which is viewed through
the eye-glass so placed, that one focus is at the image, and the other at
the spectator's eye. In this microscope the field of view is very confin-
ed, wherefore it is usual to employ two eye-glasses, placed at a short
distance asunder. The magnifying power of the compound microscope
depends on the difference of magnitude between the object and its
image, and the shortened distance at which the eye can view the object.
Thus if the object can be seen at the distance of of an inch, while
the natural eye would require six inches, or eight times that distance,
and the image be six times larger than the object, by multiplying these
two numbers together, we have forty-eight for the magnifying power
of the microscope on a line, and the square of 48, or 2304, for the mag-
nification of the surface of the object. When the glasses are fixed in a
tube upon a stand, the object to be examined is placed on a plate or
stage immediately under the tube, having an aperture in the middle
through which comes up a strong light reflected from an inclined mir-
ror below. This
This is the common construction of microscopes: but va-
rious other forms, and ways of arranging the several parts may be
adopted.
-
1
The solar microscope is so named, because it is used only when the
sun's light is very strong. On the outside of a window is placed a
plane mirror, inclined to the sun's rays at such an angle, as to reflect
them upon a double convex lens fixed in the shutter, through which
they are refracted to a focus at another small lens at the inner end of
the tube. Between the two lenses, and in the focus of the least is
placed the object which, being powerfully illuminated from the exter-
nal mirror, is refracted through the little lens, and greatly magnified
on a white cloth or other proper substance. The magnifying power of
the solar microscope is regulated by the distance of the cloth from the
window. Eight or nine feet will be sufficient; and the size of the
image will be to that of the object, as the distance of the image from
the little inner lens is to that of the object.
The Camera-obscura, or Dark-chamber, is produced by fixing a double
convex glass in the shutter of a window of a room, from which all light is
totally excluded, excepting what passes through the glass. The win-
dow should, in our parts of the world, be exposed to the north, that
all objects on the outside may be strongly illuminated by the noon-day
sun, and be seen in the brightest colours. In the focus of the glass
will be seen, but inverted, correct images of the houses, trees, animals,
ships, &c. on the outside of the window. On this principle is con-
structed a portable camera-obscura, extremely useful in taking views of
landscapes, in the following way.
Let ABCD, Fig. 2. Plate 4th, be the upright section of a rectan-
gular box, in the end of which AD is inserted the double convex glass
E, and let ab be any external object strongly enlightened by the sun.
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OPTICS.

A ray from the upper extremity a will be refracted through the focus
c to the opposite end of the box BC, and by means of the rays from
the lower extremity b, similarly refracted through c, will on that end
form i, the image reversed of the external object a b. Suppose now that
in c be placed the plane mirror de, inclined at an angle of forty-five
degrees to the horizon. In this case the ray from a will be reflected
from c in the mirror to the upper part of the box at n, the ray from ó
will be reflected to o, and the whole rays from ab will form the image
no horizontal, but in its natural position. This image is received on a
piece of plain glass or of oiled paper, fastened in the top of the camera,
on which the lines may be traced with a pencil, to be afterwards trans-
ferred to other paper. The glass E is placed in a moveable tube to
be set to the proper focus.
The common Magic Lantern is a machine of the same kind, within
which is a lamp, which by its light transmitted through a large plano-
convex glass in a tube in the front, strongly illuminates a small trans-
parent painting on glass placed before the lens, in an inverted po-
sition. A different sort of magic lantern excited much surprise some
time ago, under the name of phantasmagoria (the raising of phantasms
or spectres). In the common machine the figures are painted on glass,
the remainder being transparent; of course the image on the screen is
a circle of light having a figure in the midst. In the phantasmagoria,
on the other hand, the whole of the glass is dark except the figure,
which alone appears on the screen, which is of thin silk, and placed
between the lantern and the spectator. By moving the light near to
or farther from the screen, the image seems to retire or approach; and
no part of the screen being perceptible, but the figure only, this seems
to be formed in the air, and to be enlarged as if it came nearer to the
spectator, and be diminished as if it receded from him; although in
fact it be always at the same distance. The multiplying glass is cut in-
to a number of faces, through each of which the rays of light proceeding
from a single object are refracted in different angles to the eye, which
thus instead of one single image seeing a number, is apt to conclude
it really sees a number of objects instead of one only.
•
•
I


Explanation of Figures.
Plate II, Fig. 3. represents a compound microscope. AG is the body
or internal part, moveable up and down in the outer case CD, supported
on three legs as E. The plate or stage F is open in the centre, to ad-
mit the light to pass through the glass containing the objects to be view-
ed; the light is reflected upwards by the inclined mirror H. At G is
a magnifying lens, another at B, and the eye-glass at A.
•
Plate IV. Fig. 1. is a longitudinal section of the Gregorian or reflect-
ing telescope described in the text.
Plate IV. Fig. 2. is a similar section of the camera obscura, also de-
scribed in the text.

Plate IV. Fig. 3. is a similar section of Parker's very powerful burn-
ing lens or glass. The lens itself C is fixed in the circular frame DD,
connected with another frame and lens at E. The rays collected by
the great lens (as partly shown in the figure,) fall upon the small lens,
and are there again converged into the focus at F, which is a stand
supporting the object on which the experiments are made. The whole
apparatus rests on the fulcrum A.

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ELECTRICITY.
91
SECT. VI.
ELECTRICITY.
THIS branch of natural knowledge draws its name from electron, the
Greek term for amber; because from observing certain properties of
that substance, men have been led to the discovery and arrangement of
facts resulting from other bodies, on which the doctrine of electricity
is founded. The Greek electron, and the corresponding Latin electrum,
were also applied to a very different substance, being a compound of
gold and silver, more resplendent, says Pliny, by the light of a lamp or
torch, than silver itself. Of this metallic composition, cups, statues,
and even columns were formed by the ancients. It is however the
natural amber to which we now allude.
4
Amber, or more properly ambar, according to its origin in the Arabic
language, is chiefly found on the shore of the Baltic sea, in the Prussian
dominions; sometimes up the country, resting upon wood-coal, or
black charred trees, at the depth of 80, or 100 feet under ground: it
is almost completely combustible, and possessing many of the properties
of resinous substances, is therefore considered to be of vegetable origin.
It is brittle, light and hard, usually pretty transparent, and commonly
yellow or even deep brown. It is tasteless, and without smell, unless
when pounded or heated, when it emits a fragrant odour. On this ac-
count amber is carried from Prussia to the eastern parts of the world,
particularly to Persia and China, where it is burned on chafing-dishes,
during their festivities, to perfume the chambers of the great. When
roasted or exposed to a melting heat, it combines with drying linseed oil
and turpentine, and then forms amber varnish.
The earliest account we have of the peculiar properties of amber mount
up about 600 years before the Christian era, when Thales the Greek
philosopher of Miletus in Asia Minor, observed that, when heated by
rubbing, it attracted straws, feathers, and other light bodies. About
300 years later Theophrastus noticed light bodies to be attracted by an-
other substance, when exposed to heat without friction. This he called
lyncurium, probably what is now called tourmaline, a species of shorl
consisting of the basis of alum, flint and iron. This stone was first
brought from Ceylon in the East Indies about 60 years ago: but is now
found to enter into the composition of mountains in various parts, ge-
nerally crystallized in prisms of 3, 6, or 9 sides. It is commonly green,
and partially transparent: when heated to 200° of Fahrenheit's thermo-
meter, (a little lower than boiling water, which rises to 212°) it becomes
electric without friction. The zeolite possesses the same property.
Down to the end of the 16th century, no farther notice of the pro-
perties of these substances occurs in the history of science. In 1590,
a treatise on the magnet was published by an English physician, Dr.
William Gilbert, in which were introduced a number of experiments
illustrative of electricity, as well as of magnetism, and containing a list
of various substances possessing attractive properties, similar to those
of amber. Since that period many ingenious persons have devoted
*
Lates
D
黎
​92
ELECTRICITY.
?
themselves to the study of electricity, particularly the late Dr. Joseph
Priestley of Birmingham, and Dr. Benjamin Franklin of Philadelphia,
by whose labours the science was placed in the way to be afterwards
carried on to perfection.
The doctrine and practice of electricity are founded on this supposi-
tion, that this earth, and all bodies with which we are acquainted, are
endowed with a fluid substance, extremely subtile and elastic. Of this
fluid each body possesses a certain share adapted to its nature; and so
long as it contains neither more nor less than its natural share, the elec-
tric fluid produces no sensible effect, and is therefore imperceptible. If,
however, the natural share be increased or diminished, very striking
and important effects are produced: the body is said to be electrified,
and the electricity becomes apparent. This increase or diminution of
the electric fluid, in any body, would immediately be brought to the pro-
per quantity, by communication with other bodies, provided all sub-
stances were equally fitted for the transmission of the fluid, which we
know is not the fact. Those bodies which permit the fluid to pass
through them freely, without retaining it, are called conductors and
non-electrics: while those which retain the fluid in accumulation are
termed electrics and non-conductors. Of this last class of bodies in which
the electric fluid is accumulated, the most perfect among solid substances
are glass, resins, bees' and sealing wax, sulphur, wood baked to perfect
dryness in an oven; and among fluids air and oils. The best conductors
of electricity, or the substances through which it passes with the greatest
freedom, are all the metals and water: but all substances become con-
ductors when made very hot. A body possessing more than its natural
share of electricity, is positively electrified; and one possessing less than
its due share is negatively electrified.. A body so surrounded by non-
conductors, that the fluid cannot pass between it and the earth, is said
to be insulated, as an island is separated from all other land by the sur-
rounding sea. Thus a piece of metal supported on a pillar of glass or
wax is insulated: but if a communication be made between it and the
earth, by an iron chain or other conductor, the equilibrium between the
body and the earth will be immediately restored, whether the piece of
metal contain more or less than its due share of electricity.
•
The equilibrium of the electric fluid in bodies, is disturbed, or it is
made to pass from one to another, chiefly by gentle friction or rubbing
of the one against the other; if this be done by a conductor against a
non-conductor the electricity is the most powerfully excited. The fluid
will leave the less perfect electric, and pass upon the more perfect.
Thus if a smooth glass tube be drawn through the hand, the friction
causes the electric matter to leave the hand, and to pass upon the glass,
where it is accumulated, in addition to the natural share already in the
glass. Neither the glass nor the air being conductors, the superabun-
dant fluid has no way to escape: but if a finger, a piece of metal, or
any other conducting substance be presented to the glass thus over-
charged, the fluid will immediately pass from it to them, and the equi-
librium will be restored as before the excitement. In this case the glass
is said to be excited.


B
1
-
The quantity of electric fluid which can be assembled in this way
being very small, machines have been contrived for producing more
powerful friction between electric and non-electric substances, and
ELECTRICITY.
93
called in general electrical machines, such as that shown at Fig. 4. of
Plate II. of which the following is a description.
AB is a strong board supporting the whole machine, to be se-
cured by screws or clamps to a steady table. The glass cylinder D,
quite dry and clean in the inside, is about ten inches in diameter, and
furnished with two caps of wood or brass, into which the short necks
of the cylinder are firmly cemented. Each of the caps has a projection
turning in a hole through a piece of wood, cemented on the top of the
glass pillars EG, and FH, firmly secured in the frame A B. To the
end at E, the handle or winder I is applied, by which the cylinder is
turned round; part of it being glass, the more effectually to prevent
the electric fluid from escaping from the cylinder. The rubber K is
made of leather or silk stuffed with hair; to which a flap of silk is fas-
tened, which covers a part of the cylinder, to prevent the escape of
the fluid. This rubber or cushion, as it is called, is fastened to a spring
proceeding from a socket cemented on the top of the glass pillar M,
the lower part of which is fixed into a small board sliding in the frame,
and capable, by means of a screw nut, of being made to press more or
less on the cylinder, as may be required. The glass pillar N, fixed in
the frame, supports a tube of brass or tin-plate, called the prime con-
ductor, OP, having at one end a collector or range of pointed wires, to
collect the electric fluid from the cylinder, when excited by revolving
against the rubber, and at the other end R a wire with a knob, from
which can be drawn an electric spark, larger than from any other part
of the conductor. This knobbed brass wire is only screwed into the
conductor, and may be removed at pleasure. The simple rubber here
described produces but a very slight degree of excitation in the cylinder:
but its power is greatly increased by applying to it an amalgam or com-
pound of mercury with tin, or still better with zinc.


Besides cylinders, glass globes have also been employed in electric
machines; and combinations of wheels to produce a rapid rotation ;
but these have not answered expectations. Plates of solid glass and
circular, when properly constructed, seem to be the most powerful of
all; being compact and less liable to be affected by damp. The most
powerful machine now known exists at Haerlem in Holland, made by
the ingenious Cuthbertson of Poland Street, London. It consists of two
solid circular plates of glass, each sixty-five inches in diameter, fixed
on an axis parallel to one another, and 7 inches asunder. Each plate
is excited by four rubbers; and the prime conductor is divided into two
branches, which enter between the plates, and by means of points col-
lect the electric fluid from their inner surfaces alone.
When the cylinder is turned round in the machine by the winder,
the friction of the glass against the rubber makes the electric fluid
pass
into the glass, from which it is conveyed to the prime conductor. The
rubber receives a continual supply of fluid from the earth by means.
of an iron chain or other conductor communicating with the ground.
On the other hand if a stick of sealing wax, a roll of sulphur, or a tube
of rough glass be drawn through the hand, the fluid in the wax, &c.
passes into the hand; and the wax being surrounded by the air which
is a non-conductor, remains exhausted, and will take sparks of electric
fire from proper bodies presented to it. So great however is the velo-
city of the fluid, that the direction of its motions cannot possibly be
distinguished. In this case the wax, sulphur, &c. are said to be ex-
94
ELECTRICITY.
cited, although deprived of their share of electricity, equally with the
glass which is overcharged: because, though their state be reversed, the
effects are in many respects similar.
•
If you turn the handle until the machine be well excited, and pre-
sent your knuckle or a brass knob to the conductor, particularly at
the knob R, you will obtain a spark of electric fire darting from the
one to the other with inconceivable rapidity, and a snapping noise
or report. If the piece of metal be detached from the earth, or in-
sulated, it will retain the fluid communicated to it; but the sparks
from it and from the prime conductor will be diminished. If you
stand on the ground, and draw sparks from the conductor, or lay
your hand upon it, or hold a chain communicating with it, while
the machine is excited to the highest degree; still there will be no
accumulation of fluid in your body; for it will pass immediately and
silently through you to the earth. On the other hand if you stand
on a stool of dry wood, supported on glass legs, or on cakes of ro-
sin, sulphur, wax, &c. your body being now insulated the electric
matter cannot pass to the earth, but be accumulated; and sparks
may be taken from any part of it, just as from the prime conductor
before your connection with it. If another person present his knuckle
to you, a spark of fire will be seen, and both will feel a slightly
painful sensation or pricking, and the snapping noise will be heard.
Every part of your body will, in these circumstances, attract light
substances; the hairs of the head or the wig, if loose, will repel each
other, some of them even standing upright. If on a plate be laid
light pieces of feather or slips of paper, and your hand be expanded
over them at a distance of three or four inches, as soon as the ma-
chine is turned, the feathers and paper will be attracted, and spring
up to your hand. Being there filled with the fluid they will be re-
pelled to the plate below, where the fluid being discharged, the fea-
thers, &c. will be again attracted up to the hand, and again repelled
to the plate. Thus will these light bodies fly between the hand and
the plate with great rapidity, as long as the electrification is kept up
with vigour. If a bundle of hairs or light feathers be hung upon the
prime conductor, the moment they are electrified by turning the ma-
chine they fly from each other, so that some will even stand erect:
but if the conductor be exhausted by the approach of a piece of
metal, the hairs, feathers, &c. will immediately fall down to their ori-
ginal state. All bodies possessing the same kind of electricity, whe-
ther positive or negative, repel each other in proportion to the quan-
tity they contain. Upon this fact is constructed the electrometer, or
electricity-measurer. If two balls of cork, or of the pith of elder,
of the size of large pease, be hung by the ends of a silk thread, they
will hang perpendicularly, and in contact. But if suspended from the
electric machine, when in action, they will repel each other. By their
divergence they show the quantity of excitation, and also the nature
of the electricity; for if it be positive, by touching the balls with a
stick of sealing-wax, they will collapse; but if it be negative the wax
will make them separate still wider.
t
The spark of electricity not only has the appearance of fire, but the
power of setting fire to various substances easily inflammable. If spi-
rits of wine be held in a spoon, and a spark be drawn through the
spirits, they will catch fire as if lighted by a candle. The inflamma-


+
•
ELECTRICITY.
95
tion may be produced by a spark drawn through the spirits by the
end of one's finger. Not only are our feeling, hearing, and seeing
affected by electricity, but also the smell and the taste.
If a pointed
brass rod be electrified, by being fastened to the prime conductor, or
held by a person electrified, and another person standing on the ground
present his nose within an inch or two of the point, he will discover a
strong disagreeable flavour like that of burning sulphur; and if he re-
ceive the electric fluid upon his tongue he will perceive a taste evidently
acid. The more sharply pointed are any bodies, the more easily do
they receive or part with the matter of electricity. Thus, if a needle
be fastened on the prime conductor, or presented to it by a person on
the floor, only a small spark will be obtained by the finger or a blunt
piece of metal. When these experiments are made in the dark a flame
will be seen at the point of the needle: but the appearance of this
flame will be different, according as the point is giving out or drawing
the fluid. If the point be giving out the fluid, the flame will be in the
form of a pencil or brush, with a rustling kind of noise; whereas when
the point draws in the fluid, the flame is much smaller, and resembles
a star.
Points have also the property of drawing the electric fluid
from a body, without any explosion or noise or sparks. This property
has been usefully applied in securing buildings and ships from the ef
fects of lightning, as will be afterwards explained. The power of the
electric fluid will be exhibited by means of two sharp pointed wires,
crossing one another at right angles, and having their ends bent in
opposite directions. If these wires be placed on another fixed in the
prime conductor, and the machine be excited, flames will appear on
the four points, and the cross wires will begin to turn round, in the
direction opposite to that to which the crooked points are directed, as if
pushed backwards by the discharge of a fluid, in the manner of a gun
recoiling upon the explosion of the powder.
The Leyden phial, or electrical jar, is so named from Leyden, a cele-
brated university in Holland, where its properties were first properly
discovered. When a conducting body approaches an electrified body,
that side of the conductor nearest to it acquires a contrary electricity,
while the opposite side acquires the same electricity with that of the
electrified body; consequently the contrary electricities of the two
bodies have a strong mutual attraction. When the bodies are sufficient-
ly near, and the attraction sufficiently strong, a portion of fluid or a
spark will fly from the one body to the other, so as to restore the
equilibrium between them, and the whole conductor will then retain
only its due share of electricity. When, however, the non-conducting
body is presented to another containing a superabundance of fluid, a
similar effect will be produced, they will have opposite electricities,
and a spark will fly from the one to the other. But on account of the
non-conducting quality this addition of fluid will not spread but re-
main confined to the spot to which it was communicated. If one kind
of electricity be communicated to one side of a pane of glass, or other
thin non-conductor, and a contrary electricity to the other side, the
glass is said to be charged. In this state the opposite sides would always
remain, were there no moisture in the air, or other mode of communi-
cation established between them. But if a communication be properly
made between the opposite sides of the glass, the opposite electricities
will mutually destroy one another. When the union between the op-
•
ぬり
​Į

96
ELECTRICITY.
i
posite sides of a charged electric is thus produced, it is said to be dis-
charged, and the act of union is called the electric shock. When a
living animal forms the whole or a part of this communication, so that
the discharge passes through it, a sudden shock, stroke, or im-
pulse, and a very peculiar sensation is felt, by contracting the muscles
through which it passes, which is more or less disagreeable, according
to its strength, and to the constitution of the person. In order to com-
municate electricity to the whole of a non-conductor, each part must be
brought into contact with the electrified body. But this trouble is
saved by coating or covering the sides of the non-conductor with some
conducting substance, such as tin-foil, by which the electricity is im-
mediately spread over the whole tinned surface. These coatings must
not be permitted to come near each other, at the edges of the glass, lest
a communication between them be made through the air. The thinner
the glass the higher will be the charge, but the more liable is it to be
broken by the attraction of the opposite fluids. The Leyden phial
(Fig. 4. plate 4.) is usually a jar with a wide mouth, such as is used
for pickles and preserves. To the mouth is fitted a piece of mahogany
or cork, nicely turned and varnished. Through the centre of the cork
passes a brass wire with a knob at the top, and a small chain at the
lower end reaching to the bottom of the jar, which is coated or lined
inside and outside with tin foil, up to within a few inches of the neck.
To charge this jar a communication is made between the electric ma-
chine and the knob on the outside of the mouth, while the outside of
the jar communicates with the earth by the table or the hand. After
a few revolutions of the cylinder, it is charged and ready to exhibit
its usual effects. To discharge the jar by making a communication
between the inside and outside coatings, an instrument is employed
consisting of a semicircular bent brass rod or wire with a knob at each
end, and connected in the middle to a glass handle which prevents the
electricity, in its passage between the sides of the jar, from entering the
person who performs the operation. One of these knobs is applied to
that on the wire that enters the jar, and the other to the outside coating.
By this channel the superabundant electricity in the one side of the
jar passes to the defective side on the other, with extreme rapidity, in
the form of a very vivid flash, accompanied by a loud report.

The most convenient way for a person to receive a shock of electri-
city is to place the jar or phial, when properly charged, upon a piece
of chain laid on the table; then laying one hand on the chain to touch
the knob of the jar with a piece of metal in the other hand. Any num-
ber of persons can receive a shock together, by holding one another by
the hand in a circular order, the first person in the rank communicat-
ing with the outside of the jar, and the last touching the knob connect-
ed with the inside. In this case every person will receive the shock
at the same instant, and nearly in the same degree, although from na-
tural constitution, and the power of imagination and apprehension, its
effects may be much greater on some than on others. The common
feeling excited by a moderate shock is as if the person received a smart,
sudden, but slight blow on the inside of the joints of the elbows and
knees. The velocity of the motion of the electric fluid is rapid beyond
all computation, and may, in fact, be considered as instantaneous. By
experiments made on Blackheath, seven miles east from London, the
electric shock was felt at precisely the same instant, although the re-
ELECTRICITY
97
port was not so loud, by persons at the ends of a circular iron wire
above 23 miles in length. The shock may also be communicated through
the ground, however dry it may be, as well as when it is wet; be-
cause a very little way below the surface the earth is always sufficiently
moist to conduct the electric fluid.
That water is an excellent conductor of electricity has been abun、
dantly proved by repeated experiments. The earliest of this kind was
made in London in July 1747. A line of iron wire was laid along the
pavement of Westminster Bridge, and turned down the steps at each
end to the edge of the Thames. On the Westminster shore stood
a person holding the end of the wire in his left hand, and an iron rod
dipping in the water in his right. On the Surrey side of the bridge
stood another person with the wire in his right hand, and in his left
a large coated jar charged with electricity. Near him was a third per-
son who held in his left hand an iron rod dipping in the river, and
with his right hand touched the charged jar. The electricity imme-
diately snapped, and the shock was instantaneously felt by the three
operators, in the same manner as if the wire had extended without in-
terruption from the beginning to the end of the communication. Hence
it was evident, that as the wire was interrupted by the whole breadth of
the river, the electricity must have been communicated by the water in
the interval between the ends of the wire and rods. The pavement of
the bridge measures 1220 feet, which doubled will give 813 yards, or
nearly half a mile for the whole length of the communication, one-half
of which consisted of the water of the river.
امه
•
Atmospheric electricity. One of the earliest observations on the na-
ture and effects of electricity was their striking resemblance to those of
lightning: and their identity was fully ascertained by the celebrated
Dr. Franklin. He observed the power of points in drawing off the
electric fluid and spark from bodies at a distance, and hence inferred
that a pointed metallic bar, if insulated or detached from all electric
communication with the earth, by being elevated to a considerable
height in the air, would become electric by contact with the clouds,
during a thunder-storm. On his suggestion pointed insulated iron
bars were erected in various parts of England and France. The first
appearance of electricity on any of these bars was on the tenth of May
1752, near Paris. This bar was forty feet high; and it was electrified
from the atmosphere for half an hour, emitting sparks nearly two
inches long. It occurred afterwards to Dr. Franklin, that by means of
a common boy's kite, he could have much better access to the regions
of thunder than by any rod, or even the loftiest spire. He there-
fore prepared a kite, and took it into the fields in weather adapted
to his purpose.
To the lower end of the string was tied a silk cord,
to prevent the electricity from passing through his body to the ground;
and at the joining was suspended a small key. Several very promising
clouds passed over the kite without producing any effect: but just
when he was beginning to despair of success, he saw some loose threads
of the hempen string standing erect, and separating from one another,
just as if they had been suspended on a common conductor of an elec-
tric machine. Struck with this appearance, he immediately presented
his knuckle to the key, and had the exquisite pleasure to perceive very
plainly the electric spark, and to find his opinion of the nature of light-
ning fully confirmed. Other sparks succeeded, even before the string
No. 5.
0
7
*

98
ELECTRICITY.
was wetted by the rain that fell afterwards; but when it was wet the
electricity was collected in great abundance.
The great use to which Dr. Franklin conceived his discovery to be
applicable was to secure buildings from lightning. This great object
is attained by a cheap and apparently inadequate apparatus; merely by
a pointed rod of metal reaching higher than any part of the building
to which it is attached, and carried down and sunk into the ground, or
rather communicating with the nearest water. This rod reaching above
the building, and especially being of metal, is sure to be seized upon
by the lightning or electricity of the atmosphere, which is thereby
conducted down to the earth, without any injury being done to the
building. By a similar apparatus applied to the masts, and communi-
cating with the water, ships are equally preserved from lightning.
To have discovered lightning and the electric matter to be the same
thing, was a point of great importance; but in both are many appear-
ances still wholly inexplicable. We see that the clouds are almost al-
ways electrified, either positively or negatively. When these come
near each other, a discharge or flash of lightning takes place; and
when a cloud highly charged with electricity comes nearer to the earth
than to any other cloud that might attract it, the fluid strikes the ground,
passing through, and often destroying buildings, animals, or other ob-
jects standing in its way.


To the electric matter are attributed many phenomena often occur-
ing, such as the aurora borealis, commonly called the northern lights,
the
merry dancers, &c.; balls of fire in the heavens, or shooting stars as
they are termed; water-spouts by sea, and whirl-winds by land.—
Earthquakes seem, in many cases, to be produced by shocks of elec-
tricity; and even in the explosions of volcanoes, lightning or the elec-
tric fire is seen darting through the thick clouds of vapour thrown out
from the crater. Animal electricity is produced by the action of cer-
tain organs in living animals, and not by the application of other sub-
stances to these animals. The fish tribe alone have hitherto shown
themselves to possess this power. Of these are the torpedo, the electric-
ecl, and the electric-silurus. The torpedo is a flat fish about twenty inches
long, common in the seas of Europe. The electric organs are placed
on each side of the gills, each consisting of perpendicular columns
reaching through the fish. If the torpedo, whilst in the water, or
when out of it, but not insulated, be touched with the hand, it gives a
tremulous motion or slight shock to that hand alone. If it be touched
with both hands at once, the one on the under and the other on the
upper side, a shock is felt exactly like that from the electrical jar. The
electrical-eel is frequent in the great rivers of South America: its
usual length three feet; but some have been described as so large as
to strike a man dead by their stroke. Some of these animals three feet
long were brought to England forty years ago, and various experiments
made with them. They possessed all the properties of the torpedo,
but in a superior degree. The spark produced by a shock was visible
in a dark room. Of the electric-silurus, an African fish about twenty
inches long, too little is yet known to enable us to explain its effects.
These animals seem to employ their electrical property as the means of
self-defence.
•


Medical Electricity. This application of electricity may seem to be
foreign to the purposes of this work: the reader however will not be dis
f
ELECTRICITY.
99
pleased to see a few short observations on a matter of much curiosity,
and which may perhaps, in the course of time, produce important
benefits to mankind.
In judging of cases of disease or infirmity, in which electrification
may be proper, we learn from experience that in general obstructions,
whether of motion, of circulation, or of secretion, are often removed o
relieved by electricity: the same may be said of nervous disorders
In diseases of long standing, muscular contractions, and the like, elec-
tricity is a powerful remedy. In cases of the loss of motion of a limb, it
is, however, to be observed, that this loss may be occasioned by the re-
laxation of one set of muscles, as well as by the contraction of another
set. In such cases it will be proper to electrify, not only the contract-
ed muscles, but their antagonists; for to a sound part this will do no
harm. Rheumatic disorders of long standing are relieved and frequently
cured by only drawing the electric fluid with a metallic point from the
part affected, or by drawing sparks into it from the conductor. The
operation should be continued for four or five minutes at a time, once or
twice every day. When strong shocks are administered, their number
should not exceed a dozen, unless they be given to the whole body.
In all cases it is proper to begin with the smallest force of electricity,
gradually increasing it after some days, if the disease do not appear to
yield to the application. Violent tooth-ache is generally cured by an
electric discharge made to pass through the tooth and gum affected.
Galvanism and Voltaism. By these terms are meant peculiar appear-
ances and effects resembling and connected with the phenomena of
electricity, discovered by Galvani, and improved by Volta, two inge-
nious Italian naturalists of the present times. Electricity is excited
not only by friction, but by the mere contact of certain bodies. It is
necessary, however, that those bodies should have some chemical
agency on each other; the effect seeming to be proportionate to the
degree of this agency, which therefore is perhaps the cause of the
electric phenomena.
It is commonly asserted that porter or beer, and some other liquors,
drunk out of a pewter or silver tankard, has a peculiar smartness of
taste, very different from the flat taste of the same beer, &c. when drunk
out of a glass. Mercury when quite pure retains its metallic lustre a
long time; but its amalgam or mixture with any other metal is soon
tarnished. When the copper-sheathing of a ship's bottom is fastened
with iron nails, the copper, and even the nails themselves will soon be
corroded at the place of contact. A piece of zinc or spelter remains a
considerable time in water without going to rust or being oxydized:
but if a piece of silver be made to touch the zinc in the water, the oxy-
dation takes place very speedily. These different effects are referred to
galvanism. If you lay a piece of metal on your tongue, and a piece of
some other metal under the tongue; if a connection be formed between
the two metals, by bringing their outer edges together, or by touching
both with a third piece of another metal, you will perceive on the
tongue a peculiar sensation, a kind of irritation, accompanied by a cool
acid taste, much resembling that produced by receiving common elec-
tricity on the tip of the tongue. If you put a piece of zinc or tin be-
tween the upper lip and the gum as high as possible, and a piece of
silver on the tongue; whenever the two metals are made to touch one
another, or to communicate by means of another piece of metal, a flash
****
LEBUT.
100
MAGNETISM.
of light will be distinctly perceived in the eyes. The nerves of ani-
mals seem to be affected by smaller quantities of electricity than any
other substances; hence prepared limbs of animals are much employed
for producing electricity by simple contact, or galvanic electricity.
The conductors of electricity are of two classes; the dry or perfect
conductors, which are metallic substances and charcoal, and the imper-
fect conductors, which are water and oxydating fluids (such as corrode
or rust metals), and the substances containing those fluids. The most
powerful galvanic combinations or circles of the first class are zinc,
silver, and water with a little nitric acid, which acts upon both the me-
tals. The most powerful circles of the second class consist of copper
with silver or lead, and a solution of an alkaline sulphuret and diluted
nitrous acid.

Since Galvani's discoveries the action of the combination of three con-
ductors has been examined with great care and success by various per-
sons, especially by Volta, who discovered that the effect of a single
circle or combination may be prodigiously increased by repeating the
combination; hence these repetitions of simple combinations are called
Voltaic batteries.
SECT. VII.
1
MAGNETISM.
THE magnet or lodestone is an ore of iron of a dark-brown or black-
ish colour, found in various countries, and from Magnesia, a city in
Asia Minor, where it abounded, it derived its name. The great Gre-
cian philosopher, Plato, who died 350 years before the Christian era,
in one of his dialogues compares the effect produced by poetry on con-
genial minds to the operation of the magnet on iron rings, which it not
only drew to it, but endowed with a power of attracting other iron
rings. Had the ancients, in their magnetic experiments happened to
employ long bars instead of circular rings of iron, it is but reasonable
to imagine that, on some occasion, when the bars were so placed as to
be at liberty to move about, they would have turned, as we see them
now do when magnetised, into the direction of the meridian; the one
end pointing to the north and the other to the south. Thus would the
polarity, as well as the attracting power of a magnet or a magnetised
fron bar, have been discovered and rendered available in the
purposes
of navigation. Whatever may be in this conjecture we have every rea-
son to believe that it was not until many ages after the days of Plato
that the polar direction of the magnetised iron bar, rod, or needle came
to be known, or at least to be employed in guiding the mariner across
the pathless waters. The Chinese, however, assert the use of the mag-
net in navigation to have been known in their country nearly three
thousand years ago: but without observing on the very peculiar na-

/
MAGNETISM.
101
!
ture of the annals of China, it is well known that, even in the presesent
times, their seamen are extremely unskilful in the use of the compass,
notwithstanding that the magnetic needle they employ seems, from its
shortness, to possess some advantages over that used by the nations of
the west. The generality of writers on the application of magnetism
to navigation attribute its invention, or at least its introduction into
Europe, to Flavio Gioia of Amalfi, near Naples, about the year 1302;
but the mariner's compass is distinctly pointed at in a French poem
written a century earlier.
The natural magnet or lode-stone communicates its properties to iron
and steel and pieces of steel prepared and touched by the magnet be-
come artificial magnets. These may be made more powerful than the
natural; and as they can be formed in any convenient shape, they are
now universally used, while the mineral magnet is only kept as a cu-
riosity. The power of the natural magnets in attracting and supporting
a piece of steel in the air, is generally greater in small than in large
ones, in proportion to their bulk. One which, including the arma-
ture or steel in which it was set, weighed only 43 grains, lifted a piece
of steel weighing 1032 grains, just 24 times its own weight. Another
very small magnet, worn instead of a diamond (a substance of far less
intrinsic value) in a ring, by Sir Isaac Newton, weighed by itself
scarcly three grains, and yet took up a piece of iron weighing no less
than 746 grains, being 250 times its own weight.
All magnets artificial and natural possess the following properties;
and without possessing all these properties no substance can be a mag-
net. 1. The magnet attracts iron. 2. When a magnet is at liberty to
move freely, it places its ends pointing towards the north and south
poles of the earth: the same end always pointing to the same pole.-
This property is the polarity of the magnet: and the ends become the
poles: a magnet in moving about to arrive at this position is said to
traverse. 3. The north pole of one magnet presented to the south
pole of another attracts it: but if the two north poles, or the two south-
poles be presented to each other, they mutally repel each other. By
these means the unknown poles of one magnet are soon discovered,
when brought near the known poles of another. 4. When a magnet
is free to move in every direction, the axis or imaginary line joining its
poles lies horizontally, or inclined in different angles, according to the
latitude of the place; that is to say, a magnet, or magnetised iron bar,
at the equator, will lie perfectly horizontal or parallel to the axis of the
earth; but if it be carried to any place in north latitude, the north end
will dip down below the level, and the south end will rise. On the
other hand, if the magnet be taken into south latitude the south end
will dip, and the north end will rise; and this variation from the level
or the dip, as it is called, will increase in proportion as the magnet goes
nearer and nearer to the respective poles of the earth. 5. Any magnet
natural or artificial may, by proper methods, be made to impart those
properties to iron or steel. A plane perpendicular to the horizon, and
passing through the poles of a magnet in its natural position, is called
the magnetic meridian; and the angle formed by this plane, with that
of the place where the magnet is situated, is the declination of the mag-
net, otherwise called the variation of the magnetic needle.

•
+
When a piece of iron is brought within a certain distance of a pole
of a magnet it is attracted by it: but this effect is not produced by the
102
MAGNETISM.
********
magnet alone, for both bodies equally attract one another. Place the
magnet and the iron upon two pieces of cork or wood, floating on
water, at a proper distance asunder, and both will move forward till
they meet. If the iron be fixed, and the magnet at liberty, it will
move to the iron. The attraction is strongest at the poles of the mag-
nct, and diminishes as the iron is placed nearer to the middle point be-
tween the poles, where it ceases altogether. The law of the diminu-
tion of the attraction is hitherto unknown: it appears, however, to di-
minish faster than the distance between the magnet and the iron in-
creases. Soft iron readily receives the magnetic properties; but it
retains them only a very short time: on the other hand, hard iron, and
particularly steel, receives these properties very slowly, but retains
them the longer in proportion to its hardness. The powers of the mag-
net acting upon iron or steel, are not at all affected by the intervention
of any other substance between them, except it contain iron. Nor are
they affected by the absence more than by the presence of air; but
heat weakens them, and cooling restores them, not however to the same
degree. A white heat destroys it almost entirely: iron, in a white or a
full-red heat, it not attracted by the magnet; but the attraction begins
as soon as the redness is going off. The attractive power of the magnet
is considerably improved by the application of a piece of iron to it,
gradually adding a little more to increase the weight: it is also
strengthened by keeping it in a proper position, with its north pole to-
wards the north; and on the contrary, by a wrong position or by hav-
ing only a small weight of iron, or none at all, suspended from it, its
power is diminished. That iron is attracted by the magnet is plain;
and it is not improbable that as iron is diffused in various proportions
throughout many other substances, it is the cause of their being at-
tracted also, although in a very low degree. Pieces of brass show no
attraction for the magnet until hardened by hammering; and when
again softened in the fire the attraction goes off, but is a second time
restored by hammering. The other metals which possess magnetic
properties are nickel, cobalt, and manganese. Nickel is found chiefly at
Freyberg in Germany: it resembles copper-ore; but as no copper
could be extracted from it, the miners called it kupfernickel, or false
copper. This metal is attracted by the magnet as strongly as iron;
and like it may be converted into an artificial magnet, in which state
it points to the north pole, when freely supported, precisely like the
common magnetic needle. An eminent English naturalist, Mr. Chene-
vix, announced a method of obtaining nickel that was not magnetic;
but he afterwards discovered that this peculiarity was owing to the
presence of arsenic, which is commonly found in nickel. For arsenic
is not only destructive of all animal life, but it equally destroys the
magnetic virtue of iron, and of the other metals in which that virtue
exists. Cobalt, a very heavy grey mineral, has been known in Europe
for these three centuries past. In 1540 it was first used in Germany to
give a deep blue colour to glass, which, when finely pounded, is called
smalt, a substance sometimes employed in shop-signs, by strewing it on
a ground of oil-paint. Smalt is also used in enamels, and in giving a
blue tinge to Dutch and other earthen-ware. The finest Dresden china
owes its rich blue colour to smalt. Cobalt may also be converted into
an artificial magnet, because it generally contains iron from which it
cannot be easily separated. Manganese is a dark-grey or brown mi-
•

MAGNETISM.
103
neral, very abundant in Derbyshire, in a substance called black wad :
it is also found in the greatest purity in the neighbourhood of Exeter.
It gives a fine purple tinge to glass, enamels, and earthen-ware; and
possessing the seemingly contrary property of purifying glass from any
green or yellow tint, it has obtained the name of glass-maker's soap.
When manganese, common salt, sulphuric acid (oil of vitriol) and wa-
ter, are combined in certain proportions, the substance now called oxy-
muriatic acid is produced, which speedily destroys the colouring matter
in linen and cotton-cloth, and is now therefore universally employed in
manufactories and bleaching. It was first employed in this way at
Glasgow by Mr. Watt, afterwards of Birmingham.
It was before noticed that the magnetic meridian varies in many
places from the true meridian of the earth; the magnetic north pole, for
instance, pointing to the west or to the east of the north pole of the
earth; and to account for this fact has hitherto baffled the ingenuity
of all enquirers. But this is not all; this variation of the magnetic
meridian is itself continually varying at the same place; nor have all
the observations hitherto made been sufficient to determine either its
rate or its limits. The following table contains a statement of the va-
riation, or declination from the true meridian, of the magnetic needle of
the mariner's compass, as observed at London in different years. This
table will show that 240 years ago the north pole of the magnet pointed
to north by east, or eleven degrees and one-fourth to the east of north:
that 160 years ago, it pointed due north; and that moving gradually
westward it now points about twenty-four degrees and a half to the
west of north, or two degrees to the west of NNW.
.
Years.
1576
1580
1612
1622
1633
1634
1656
1665
1666
Variation. Years.
Easterly.
Min.
Deg.
11. 15
11. 11
6.10
6. 0
4 6
4 5
0, 0
Westerly,
1. 22
1 35
1672
1683
1692
1.700
1717
1723
1748
1760
1765
1770
Variation.
Westerly.
Min.
2.30
4 .30
6. 0
8. 0
10. 42
Deg.
14 17
17. 40
19.12
20. 0
20. 35
Years.
1773
1780
1785
1787
1790
1795
1800
1802
1806
1814
I
ށ

Variation.
Westerly.
Deg-
21
Min.
9
22 10
22
50
23
•
·
•
19
34
23.
23. 57
24. 7
24. 6
24. 10
24. 32
From this statement it is impossible to form any estimate of the rate
of progression in the variation; partly, it is probable, owing to the
imperfection of the instruments by which the variation was observed.
*
For it is only of late years, especially since the introduction of Mac-
culoch's improved sea-compass, that the observations requisite for de-.
termining the variation of the magnetic needle could be duly perform-
ed. The dip or depression of the magnetic needle increasing as it is

?
104
MAGNETISM.

earried nearer to the pole of the earth, could it be placed exactly over
one of them, it would there stand perpendicular to the horizon: the in-
strument for showing this depression is the dipping needle.
In giving to iron or steel the magnetic property, various methods are
employed, in all of which a magnet is necessary, although in some
cases it may seem not to be requisite. Take a bar of iron three or four
feet long, and hold it in a perpendicular position; in a little time the
bar becomes magnetic, and acts upon another magnet; the lower end
attracting the south pole, and the upper the north pole. If the bar be
inverted the polarity will be constantly reversed; the end now low-
est becoming a north pole, and the upper a south pole. Bars, or any
long pieces of iron not very hard, that have stood for some time in a
vertical position, generally become magnetical; such as fire irons, win-
dow or rail bars. A long piece of hard iron made red hot, and left to
cool in the direction of the magnetic line, becomes magnetic: the same
effect is also sometimes produced on an iron bar by a stroke of light-
ning or of electricity. If a slender steel bar or a large needle be fast-
ened on a poker that has stood a considerable time upright, and stroked
upwards by the lower end of a pair of tongs, the whole standing ver-
tically, the needle will, after a dozen strokes all upward, become mag-
netic. The proper methods of magnetising steel bars or needles for the
mariner's compass, are nevertheless of such delicacy as to require the
greatest attention, in even those who are professionally engaged in the
construction of the magnetic needle, and its application in the mariner's
compass, of which this is the construction. The compass for ships con-
sists of the box, the card or fly, and the needle. The circumference
of the card is divided into 32 equal parts called points, each containg
11 degrees 15 minutes, and subdivided into quarters. The N. E. S.
and W. points are the principal or cardinal points of the compass. Thus
a point between and equally distant from S. and W. is called SW.;
but another in the middle between W. and SW. becomes WSW. while
hat in the middle between S. and SW. is called SSW. To the under
side of the card, and in the direction of the line joining the N. and S.
points is attached a magnetic bar of hardened steel, and of a rectangu-
lar form, called the needle, by which the N. point of the card is directed
towards the N. part of the horizon, and of course all the other points to
their corresponding parts of the horizon. The card and needle are
placed on an upright pin or supporter fixed in the bottom of a brass or
wooden circular box; the whole covered with a plate of brass. The
hox has two pins diametrically opposite, let into a brass ring, moveable
in a square wooden box, on two points at right angles to the former.
By this contrivance called jimbals, the card preserves in general a hori-
zontal position, even when the ship is considerably agitated. When to
this compass are added two perpendicular sights, fixed on a brass bar
stretched over the box, by means of which the true bearing of the sun
or other celestial object may be observed, for the purpose of determin-
ing the variation of the magnetic needle, or how much, and in what di-
rection the N. and S. line pointed out by the needle vary from the true
meridian of the ship or place of observation. This is called the azimuth
compass, from an Arabic term expressing the angle formed at the ob-
server's station by the true N. and S. line, and a line drawn to the ob-
jeet observed.
Of the cause of magnetic attraction and repulsion, and of the fluctua-

•
MAGNETISM.
105
3
tion of the direction of a magnetic needle, we are still entirely ignorant.
Its variation, however, from the true meridian, the continual change
in that variation, and the inclination or dipping of the needle, these and
other circumstances seem to indicate the cause to exist in the body of
the earth. The celebrated Dr. Halley who, above a century ago, in
the course of his scientific voyage to St. Helena in the southern ocean,
took particular pains to observe the effects of magnetism on the com-
pass, adopted the following ingenious hypothesis. The globe of the
tarth he supposed to be one great magnet, having four magnetical
poles or points of attraction, two near each pole of the earth; and that
in the parts of the world adjacent to any one of the magnetic poles, the
needle is chiefly governed thereby, the nearest pole being always pre-
dominant over the more remote. Of the N. poles, that which is nearest
to us the doctor supposed to be situated about seven degrees from the
true N. pole, in the meridian of the Land's-end in Cornwall, in W.
longitude from Greenwich observatory five degrees forty-two minutes.
The other about fifteen degrees from the true N. pole, in a meridian
passing over the W. parts of North America, in 120 degrees of W.
longitude. The variation of the needle from the true N. and S.
points of the world not being uniform, but variable in different years,
and in a different manner in various parts of the world, Dr. Halley
imagined two of the magnetic poles to be fixed, and the other two
to be moveable. To account for this, he conceived the external
part of the earth to be a hollow spherical shell, containing within
it a magnetic globe, detached from it, but having the same centre
of gravity, and revolving round like the earth, but with a motion
so small a matter slower as scarcely to become sensible even in a
year. Hence would be produced a variation between the true and
the magnetic poles, and consequently in the direction of the needle.
Different from this fanciful scheme of a most able natural philosopher
is that of Epinus, who in 1759 gave it as his opinion, that magne-
tism was produced by a peculiar fluid, so subtile as to penetrate all
substances, and of an elastic nature, its particles mutually repelling
one another. Between this fluid and iron, a mutual attraction sub-
sists; but on it no other substance has any action. According to
this scheme, a body containing or consisting of iron in its metallic.
state (not in that of an oxyde or rust) is rendered magnetic by hav-
ing the equal quantity of fluid diffused through it disturbed, so that
it exceeds in one part, and is deficient in another; and its magne-
tism continues so long as this unequal diffusion lasts, and until the
balance between the overcharged and the undercharged parts be re-
stored,
k


By the following simple experiment the effects of the magnet
upon iron may be very perceptible. Strew some iron or steel filings
lightly over a sheet of paper on a table, and among them place a
small magnet. If by knocking on the table the filings are made to
move, they will cling to one another forming lines of different sorts.
Those at the two poles arrange themselves in straight lines in the
direction of the axis of the magnet: but those on each side begin
to bend outward more and more, as they recede from the poles,
until at last they form complete arches, meeting together as they
bend round from the opposite poles of the magnet. Again, find out
by trial a piece of iron a little heavier than can be supported by
P
106
MAGNETISM.
sup-
a magnet, and apply it to one of the poles. When the hand is re-
moved, the iron must of course drop off; but if before the hand be
removed another larger piece of iron be brought within half an inch
of the under side of the first piece, the magnet will then be found
to support the first piece. Hence it appears that a magnet will
port a greater weight of iron over an anvil or other piece of iron,
than over a table; for this reason, that the lower iron becoming
magnetic in this situation, increases the magnetism of the upper
iron, and thereby increases the attraction for, and adherence to the
original magnet.
|
CHAPTER II.
SECT. I.
CHEMISTRY.
+
THE name of this branch of natural knowledge has been differ-
ently written at different epochs., Until within our own days the
usual orthography was in English chymistry, in French chymie, in
Latin, Italian, and Spanish, chymia, all words derived from chymos,
a Greek term, signifying juice, liquor, a fluid. The present term
chemistry, may also be formed from the Greek verb cheo, or more
properly heo, to pour out; all significations very applicable to a sci-
ence which treats of the fusion and liquifaction of solid substances,
and of the intermixture of fluid substances.


All natural events consist of one of two things, either of those
produced or accompanied by motions perceptible in their progress
by our senses, or of those in the progress of which no motions or
changes are perceptible by our senses. The first class of objects
form natural, or more properly mechanical philosophy; the second
class belong to chemistry. Of the several branches of mechanical
philosophy, a general notion has been given in the preceding chap-
ter of this work: the present chapter will contain a summary state-
ment of the principles and phenomena of chemistry.
•
Rise and progress of chemistry. The beginnings of every art, tend-
ing either to supply the necessities or to alleviate the inconveniences
of human life, were probably coeval with the first establishment of
civil society, and preceded by many ages the invention of letters,
of hieroglyphics, and of every other mode of transmitting to pos-
CHEMISTRY.
107
terity the memory of past transactions. In vain should we inquire
who made the first plough, baked the first bread, formed the first
pot, wove the first garment, or hollowed out the first canoe from
the trunk of a tree. Whether men were originally left to pick up
casual information concerning objects around them, or were super-
naturally assisted in the discovery of matters necessary for their
well-being, and even for their existence: these are questions which
we shall never be able to solve.
It is not to be doubted that, in the period which intervened be-
tween the formation of man and the deluge, a great variety of eco-
nomical arts were carried to a considerable degree of perfection. Of
these, however, many must have been lost with the great body of
the inhabitants of the earth: for it is scarcely possible that the sin-
gle and not numerous family which survived the general ruin, had
either practised, or even been slightly acquainted with every art in use
among the great body of their fellow creatures. Were the inhabitants
of the earth to be now swept away by some overpowering calamity, a
few persons only being preserved, it will not be difficult to imagine
what would be the fate of the various arts by which the elegancies, the,
comforts, and even the necessities of life are supplied. Centuries might
again pass away before the new inhabitants of our globe could become
acquainted with the nature and uses of the mariner's compass, with the
arts of painting, dyeing, printing, of making porcelain, gun-powder,
steel, brass, &c.


Of the events which took place between the creation of man and
his destruction by the deluge, the only account on which we can rely
is contained in the first six chapters of the book of Genesis. In that
brief summary of the history of the infancy of society, we cannot rea-
sonably expect to find details, or even the dates of the various useful
discoveries in art and science, which were made by men in that period.
Short however as is that account, chemists may, not improperly carry,
back to the very earliest epochs the antiquity of their art. Tubal Cain
is there mentioned as an instructor of every artificer in copper and iron:
a proof beyond controversy, that one part of chemistry, that concerned
in the management of metals, was then well understood. Copper and
iron, it is well known, are with great difficulty extracted from their
ores, and cannot, without much skill and trouble, be rendered mal-
leable. Cain, we are informed, built a city; and thence some would
infer, that the use of metals was known and familiar, even prior to
Tubal.
For many ages after the flood, we have no certain accounts of the
state of chemistry. The art of making wine, and the inebriating qua-
lity of the juice of the grape, when suffered to ferment, seem to have
been unknown to the family preserved in the ark. The Egyptians
must have been well skilled in the management of metals, in medical
chemistry, and the art of preserving dead bodies, long before the time
of Moses, the earliest historian of that singular country, who was born
about 1635 years before Christ. This is evident from the account of
Joseph's cup, of the embalming of Jacob, &c. Moses also mentions
furnaces for working iron, ores from which iron was extracted, and
swords, knives, axles, tools for cutting stones, all made of that metal.
That the Egyptians at a very early period, understood the art of dye-
ing and of making coloured glass, appears from history, and from the

-108
CHEMISTRY.
ka
relics found with the mummies, or human bodies preserved in the
places of sepulture, and from the glass beads with which these bodies
are sometimes ornamented. We ought not, however, from any or all
of these instances, to conclude that chemistry was studied, either as a
branch of science, or in separation from the other useful arts, by
the ancient Egyptians. From their knowledge of the art nevertheless.
some writers are disposed to draw the term chemistry from kema, an
old Egyptian word signifying the mysteries of nature.
Much speculation has been employed on the fact recorded of Moses,
in the book of Exodus, (xxxii. 20.) concerning the golden calf or bul-
lock, the symbol of the Egyptian divinity Apis. To give the Israelites
a practical proof of the absolute inability of the object of their idolatry
to confer on them favour or protection, Moses "took the calf which
they had made, and burnt it in the fire, and ground it to powder,
and strewed it upon the water, and made the children of Israel to
drink of it."-Most people have thought that as gold is indestructible
in a common fire, the image must have been burnt by some super-
natural means. The great German chemist Stahl, however,
150 years
ago, pointed out a process by which gold might be at least partially
dissolved, so as to be rendered potable in water. Sulphur, which
readily unites with most of the metals, cannot be combined alone with
gold; if, however, the sulphur be united with an equal quantity of a
fixed alkali, such as potash or lime, the substance called from its colour
liver of sulphur is produced. This substance, if applied to gold in thin
plates or leaves, and in the way of fusion, very readily combines with
it, or dissolves it. If this compound be immediately poured out of the
vessel in which it is melted, and soon after mixed with water, a part
of the gold will be dissolved along with the sulphuret, while the rest
remains in the state of a very subtile powder. The liquid thus obtain-
ed is peculiarly nauseous, possessing an extremely pungent bitterness,
not to be found in similar solutions of other metals.



Such is the account of the reduction of the golden calf to powder, in
the lectures of the celebrated chemist Professor Black of Edinburgh, by
which the cavils of the enemies of revelation are completely cbviated.
It is however observed, in the valuable chemical essays of Dr. Watson,
Bishop of Landaff, that it is not necessary to suppose that any chemical
operation whatever was employed by Moses. The image was stamped
and ground down, or (as it is expressed in the Arabic and Syriac ver-
sions of Exodus,) it was filed down to a fine dust, and thrown into the
river of which the people used to drink. Part of the gold dust would
remain floating on or in the water, and might be swallowed with it
in drinking, while the rest would sink down and be carried away by
the stream.
Nothing satisfactory can hence be drawn respecting the chemistry of
the ancient Egyptians; yet the structure of the ark of the covenant,
and the arrangement of Aaron's garments, show the arts of manufac-
turing metals, of dyeing leather and linen of different colours, of se-
lecting, and engraving on precious stones, were successfully and
skilfully practised in the time of Moses, who acquired all his knowledge
in 'Egypt.

Chemistry came in the course of time to be restricted to one branch,
and that entirely delusive, of the arts to which it originally extended,
namely, to the procuration of gold and silver, by the transmutation or
·
CHEMISTRY.
109
1
conversion of the baser metals. To such a pitch was this imaginary
art and the belief in its powers carried, at an early period, that the
Roman Emperor Dioclesian, of persecuting memory, thought it fit by
an edict, in the close of the third century, to repress the ardour for
that study in Egypt, ordering all the chemical writings to be burnt,
lest by their skill in the procurement of gold, &c. from other substances,
the Egyptians should derive the means of throwing off the yoke of
Rome.
This limited signification and study of chemistry, greatly prevailed
ainong the ecclesiastics of Greece, from whom it passed to the Arabians,
where it was termed alchymy, and its professors alchymists, by prefix-
ing to the original names the Arabic article al or the; just as in alcoran
the title of the Mahometan scriptures, al signifies the and koran
or coran, book. The alchymists laid it down as a principle, that all
metals were composed of the same ingredients, or that the substances
composing gold exist in all metals; debased indeed by various im-
purities, but capable by due purification of being brought to a perfect
state. Their great object therefore was to find out the means of pro-
ducing this change, and consequently of converting the baser metals
into gold.
The substance which possessed this wonderful and in-
valuable property, they called lapis philosophorum, the philosopher's
stone, of which many dishonest, if not infatuated men boasted the
possession. Those so highly favoured were styled adepts, from the
Latin adepti, as having obtained possession of the mighty secret. Be-
tween the eleventh and the fifteenth centuries, alchymy was in its most
flourishing state; but the writings of that period resemble in gene-
ral rather the ravings of madmen, than the sober investigations of
philosophers. In a few, however, may be observed the workings of in-
genious minds, reasoning right, but on wrong principles. The efficacy
of the philosopher's stone was not confined to the changing of inferior
metals into gold. It possessed also the sovereign virtue of curing every
sort and degree of disease in an instant, even of prolonging life to an
indefinite length, and of conferring on the adepts the gift of immor-
tality on this earth. Not contented with the acquisition of unbounded
wealth, and of endless life here to enjoy it, some alchymists turned
their thoughts to the discovery of an universal menstruum, or substance
which would dissolve and reduce to their primary principles all sub-
stances to which it was applied. In their eagerness in this pursuit those
sages forgot that, when they obtained the object of their labours, it
would be impossible to find or to devise a vessel, of any kind, in which
this univarsal solvent could be kept for use.
Among the alchymists of the dark ages, we find the names of
various persons, qualified by their genius and their industry, in more
favourable times, to have made great progress in the study of nature.
Albertus Magnus (Albert the great) was a German born in 1205.
Roger Bacon, called Friar Bacon, was a monk of Oxford, born in
Somersetshire in 1924. His merits are well known. Some of his writ-
ings are extremely obscure; but others exhibit a mind wonderfully en-
lightened for the age in which he wrote. His tract on the powers of
art and nature, would have done honour to his great namesake Lord
Bacon. To Roger Bacon, who died in 1292, gun-powder is reasonably
aupposed to have been known; although the discovery be commonly
attributed to Berthold Schwartz, or the Black, a monk in Germany in


110
CHEMISTRY.
1354. So infatuated were the nobility and gentry of England with the
pursuits of alchymy, and so much real wealth was exhausted, by art-
ful pretenders, in the vain search of the philosopher's stone, that within
a century after the death of Friar Bacon, the interposition of govern-
ment became indispensable. In 1402, under Henry IV. an act of par-
liament was passed, (the shortest probably to be found in the statute-
book) in these terms: "None from henceforth shall use to magnify
gold or silver, or use the craft of multiplication; and if any the same
do, he shall incur the pain of felony." This denunciation was, however,
no proof of knowledge in either the crown or the parliament. The
crown feared the people might, by the manufacture of gold, become too
powerful, to continue in due subordination; and the people were ap-
prehensive the crown might acquire so much wealth, as become entire-
ly independent, and consequently arbitrary. This curious prohibition
stood unrepealed for nearly a couple of centuries.
The man who first applied chemistry in a regular way to medicine,
was Basil Valentine, a German monk, born in 1394. To him the world
is indebted for the discovery of the virtues of antimonial medicines.
Afterwards came Paracelsus, born in Switzerland in 1493, who opened
at Basil the first public professorship of chemistry in Europe. Not-
withstanding his extravagant pretensions, and disorderly conduct, his
labours were of service to science and medicine. Van Helmont, born in
1577 may be considered as the last of the alchymists: and by his death,
in spite of all his skill, a mortal blow was given to the doctrine or dreams
of the panacea or universal medicine. The foundations of alchymy be-
ing thus shaken, its facts remained a mass of confusion, until Beccher
appeared.
After suffering many persecutions in Germany, where he was born
in 1625, he repaired to England, where he died in 1682. He resided
some time in Cornwall, which he called the mineral school, and intro-
duced many improvements into the manner of working mines and flux-
ing metals; particularly the fusion of tin by the flame of pit-coal in-
stead of wood. This latter fact is however contested; and the use of
pit-coal is first dated in the second year of Anne. Beccher's great work,
Physica Subterranea, was published in Germany in 1669, by Ernest
Stahl, who adopted his master's system of chemistry, simplifying and
improving it so much as to make it entirely his own: it is now accord-
ingly always known by the name of the Stahlian theory.
So early as the year 1645, a number of ingenious and learned per-
sons in London, to divert their thoughts from the horrors of the civil
war which then distracted the kingdom, held weekly meetings to treat
subjects of what was called the new or experimental philosophy. These
meetings were continued in London until 1662, after the restoration of
Charles second, when those and other persons were constituted into
the Royal Society. By the removal of some of the original members
to Oxford, similar studies were brought into repute in that celebrated
university. Among these last was the Honourable Robert Boyle, not
less eminent for his talents and knowledge than for the virtuous and
useful purposes for the promotion of which they were employed. By his
Sceptical Chemist, published in 1661, and his other writings and multi-
plied experiments, he greatly contributed to the introduction of a ra-
tional system of chemistry.
Ever since the days of Stahl, chemistry has been cultivated with ar

1

CHEMISTRY.
111
dour in Germany, Sweden, and other parts of the north of Europe.
Among the philosophers whose names have been illustrated in those
countries are reckoned Margraaf, Bergman, Scheele, Klaproth, &c.
In France, soon after the establishment of the Royal Academy of
Sciences of Paris, by Louis XIV. four years after that of the Royal
Society of London, Homberg, Geoffroy, and Lemery gained celebrity
by their chemical discoveries. Rouelle, who became professor of che-
mistry in Paris about 1745, infused his own enthusiasm for that
study into the whole body of men of science in France. Every
where men of skill appeared, discoveries were multiplied, the spirit of
chemical research, become fashionable, pervaded the whole nation,
spread over Italy, and made considerable progress in Spain.
After the death of Boyle and of some others of the earlier members of
the Royal Society, little attention was bestowed on chemistry in Bri-
tain, by the generality of men of science. The spirit of mathematical
study, infused by the illustrious Newton, so predominated for many years,
as to absorb the faculties of almost every lover of knowledge.
When
however Dr. Cullen became professor of chemistry in the university of
Edinburgh, in 1756, he kindled among his pupils a flame of enthusiasm
for that science, which was soon spread far and wide by the subse-
quent discoveries of Black, Cavendish, Priestley, &c. Meeting with
kindred fires already burning in Germany, Sweden, France, and
other parts of the continent, the science of chemistry burst forth at
once with unexampled splendor. In the later volumes of the Transac-
tions of the Royal Societies of London and Edinburgh, of the Royal
Irish Academy, of various other less comprehensive philosophical so-
cieties distributed over the kingdom, to say nothing of the similar in-
stitutions upon the continent, are recorded a multitude of the most im-
portant facts, and the most ingenious conjectures, from all which the
present state of chemistry, and the names of its most successful cultiva-
tors may be satisfactorily learned.
As a branch of science chemistry is intimately connected with all
the phenomena of nature. The causes of rain, snow, hail, dew, wind,
thunder, earthquakes, volcanos, even the changes of the weather can
never be successfully explored by those who are ignorant of chemistry:
and the growth of plants, some of the most important functions of ani-
mals, have from the same study received all their illustration. No
study besides can more powerfully excite in the mind exalted ideas of
the wisdom and goodness of the Author of nature than this, which sets
before us every where the most astonishing effects produced by the most
simple though adequate means, and the peculiar provision made for the
well-being and happiness of every living creature. As an art chemistry
is also intimately connected with manufactures of every kind. The
mason and the bricklayer, the smith and every other worker in metals,
the potter, the glass-blower, the tanner, the soap-maker, the bleacher,
the dyer, &c. are all really practical chemists; and by the progress of
chemistry into all these arts have the most important improvements
been introduced. Even agriculture itself can be rationally and cer-
tainly understood and promoted, only by calling in the aid of che-
mistry; in medicine the advantages derived from chemistry are too
obvious to require any indication in this place.
Chemical terms. For a long course of years, while chemistry was
only a collection of operations in various arts, names were employed

•
1.
112
CHEMISTRY.
neither properly descriptive nor in any way related. As thus
study, however, began to assume a form somewhat more orderly and
scientific, the improprieties and inconveniences of this practice be-
came notorious, and various attempts were made to remove them.
The first of these was made by the celebrated Bergman of Sweden,
whose arrangement was generally adopted. The study of chemistry
being about that time greatly in favour, a number of most important
discoveries were made in this country and on the continent, by
which new substances and new effects were produced, for which
new names were required. Availing themselves of this circumstance,
the eminent French chemists Morveau in 1781, and Lavoisier, Ber-
thollet, Fourcroy, &c. in 1787, published a new system of chemical
nomenclature or terms, with a corresponding set of marks or cha-
racters. The pretensions of this new language are chiefly these, that
by the name and the character of any substance the reader is in-
formed of the several ingredients entering into its composition, and
of the relative proportions of these ingredients. Were we perfectly
acquainted with the materials composing the substances on which we
employ our attention, such a system would be at once most rational
and instructive. This, however, is far indeed from being the present si-
tuation of chemical science: the most therefore that the French terms
can perform is to indicate such ingredients as, in our opinion, constitute
each substance. Adopting on many occasions the discoveries of other
chemists, in various parts of Europe, (not only without acknowledg
ment, but often arnouncing them as their own,) the philosophers before
named were persuaded that what they affected to call French chemistry,
would by this new language establish its superiority over every other
system. From the scientific reputation of the inventors, the universa-
lity of the French language, and the confident tone in which their doc-
trines were promulgated, their success was complete: and the French
nomenclature is now employed by chemists in all parts of the world.
Some facts have however of late years occurred, completely inexplicable
by the new system; nay, in certain cases directly in opposition to it: and
its claims to philosophic precision and perspicuity begin to be less boldly
asserted. Dr. Pearson of London published a translation of the French
system, which was also commented upon by Mr. Chenevix, whose observa-
tions and improvements are generally adopted in the popular and excellent
System of Chemistry, lately published by Dr. Thomson of Edinburgh.
One of the rules adopted in the French names is to give similar ter-
minations to all substances which agree in their mode of composition,
and different terminations to the names of things of different modes of
composition. When any acid is in its most perfect powerful or acid
state the name ends in English with the syllable ic, as sulphuric acid:
but when it is in a less powerful or perfect state, the name ends with
ous, as sulphurous acid. In naming compound salts two words are
used, the first signifying the acid, and the second the alkali or base.
Thus all compound salts containing sulphuric acid are styled sulphates,
as the sulphate of soda, formerly called Glauber's salts: but a com-
pound of sulphurous acid with the same base, will be called the sul-
phite of soda. In general the names of salts formed by an acid end-
ing in ic terminate in ale, and those formed by an acid ending in ous,
terminate in ite. The combination of substances with sulphur, phos-



CHEMISTRY.
113
A
phorus, or charcoal, without any acid, has the name ending in et, ás
sulphur and iron combined become the sulphuret of iron.
As it is not yet thirty years since the new terms were first produced
to the world, many of the most valuable works on chemistry, pub-
lished before that epoch, run the risk of becoming nearly unintelligi-
ble by a modern student: it will therefore be useful to give a list of
the old and the new corresponding names of the substances most fre-
quently occurring in chemical writings. The terms of the old nomen-
clature are arranged alphabetically in the first column, and the new
terms are placed opposite to them in the second.
Old Names.
New Names.
Acetous salts
Acid of Alum,-of sulphur,
vitriol
Air
of vitriol phlogisticated
of nitre phlogisticated
of nitre dephlogisticated,-
of saltpetre
of sea salt,-marine
aerial,
of apples
of cork
of chalk, creta-
►
ceous, of charcoal,
mephitic
of spar or fluor
of amber
of galls
of lemons
of milk
of sugar
sedative
of tartar
dephlogisticated,--empyreal, Į
fixed
hepatic
inflammable
Alkali caustic
-of
•
pure,-vita!
burnt,-impure or vitiated,
-phlogisticated
dephlogisticated marine acid
•
effervescent
fixed
mineral or marine
vegetable
volatile
Alum
Antimony crude
Aquafortis
regia
Acetites
Sulphuric acid
Sulphurous acid
Nitrous acid
Nitric acid
Muriatic acid
Carbonic acid
Fluoric acid
Succinic acid ·
Malic acid
Suberic acid
Gallic acid
Citric acid
Lactic acid
Oxalic acid
Sebacic acid
Tartarous acid ·
Gas
Oxygen gas
Nitrogen, azotic
gas, azote
Oxygenated muriatic acid gas
Carbonic acid gas
Sulphurated hydrogen
Hydrogen gas.
Pure alkali deprived of carbonic acid
Alkaline carbonates
Potash and soda
Soda
Potash
Ammonia
Sulphate of alumina
Sulphuret of antimony
Nitric acid of the shops
Nitro-muriatic acid
Q
་
1
า

114
CHEMISTRY.
Old Names.
Argil, argillaceous earth
Black-lead
Blue (Prussian).
Butters of the metals
Calces of metals
Ceruse
Chalk
Charcoal, pure
Clay, common
Copperas, blue
green
Cream of tartar
Earth, aluminous
calcareous
magnesian or muriatic
ponderous
siliceous
Emetic tartar
Essences
Ethiops martial
mineral
Flowers of sulphur
Heat latent
Leys
Litharge
Liver of sulphur, alkaline
calcareous
Lunar caustic
Magnesia alba, aerated
Massicot
Mephitis
Minium or red lead
Nitre or saltpetre
Nitres
Oils essential
fat
Phlogiston, principle of in-
principle of in-
flammability
Plumbago, black lead
Precipitate, red
Principle, acidifying
astringent
tanning
•
Pyrites of copper
martial
Regulus of metals
Rust of copper,-verdigris
iron
Saffron of Mars, crocus martis
Sal ammoniac
New Names.
Alumina
Carburet of iron
Prussiate of iron
Muriates of the metals
Oxydes of metals
White oxyde of lead
Carbonate of lime
Carbon
Alumina and silica
Sulphate of copper
iron
Tartrite of potash
Alumina
Lime
Magnesia
Barytes
Silica
Antimoniated tartrite of potash
Volatile oils
Black oxyde of iron
Black sulphurated oxyde of mer-
cury
Sublimated sulphur
Caloric
Solutions of alkalies
Vitreous oxyde of lead
Sulphuret of potash
lime
Fused nitrate of silver
Carbonate of magnesia
Yellow oxyde of lead
Nitrogen
Red oxyde of lead
Nitrate of potash
Nitrates
Volatile oils
Fixed oils
A principle imagined by Stahl,
but now rejected

Carburet of iron
Oxyde of mercury by nitric acid
Oxygen
Gallic acid
Tan
Sulphuret of copper
iron
Metals perfectly pure
Green oxyde of copper
Carbonate of iron
Oxyde of iron
Muriate of ammonia
CHEMISTRY.
115
Old Names.
Salt, sea or common
Epsom
Glauber's
of wormwood
vegetable
Saltpetre
Selenite
Spar, calcareous
Spirit, ardent
of nitre
•
fuming
sea-salt
sal ammoniac, harts-
horn, volatile al-
kali
or oil of vitriol
wine.
emetic
vitriolated
Sublimate, corrosive
Sugar of lead, or saccharum sa-
turni
}
Tartar
G
Tinctures, spiritous
Turpeth mineral.
Verdigris, rust of copper
of the shops
distilled
Vermilion, or cinnabar
Vinegar, distilled
•
•
concentrated or radical
Vitriol, blue or roman
green or martial
white
New Names.
Muriate of soda
Sulphate of magnesia
soda
Carbonate of potash
Tartrite of potash
Nitrate of potash
Sulphate of lime
Crystallized carbonate of lime
Alcohol
Nitric acid
Nitrous acid
Muriatic acid
Ammonia
Sulphuric acid
Alcohol
Muriate of mercury
Acetite of lead
Acid tartrite of potash
Antimoniated tartrite of potash
Sulphate of potash
Resins dissolved in alcohol
Yellow oxyde of mercury
Green oxyde of copper
Acetite of copper
Ditto crystallized
Sulphurate of mercury
Acetous acid
Acetic acid
Sulphate of copper
iron
zinc
•
The operations and implements employed in chemistry are princi-
pally these. An alembic, retort, or still, a vessel capable of resisting
heat of various degrees, having a beak or neck projecting from it
communicating with another vessel called the receiver. The common
still is made of copper, and contains the materials to be distilled: it is
built up to the neck in brick work; and the fire lighted below is
made to run rouud it before it escape. The head of the still is drawn
into a pipe or funnel, connected with the worm or spiral tube, im-
mersed in a vessel of cold water called the refrigeratory, or cooler.
The liquid vapours arising from the materials in the still, in conse-
quence of the heat, are collected in the head, and thence pas into the
worm, where they are condensed by the cold in which it is immersed,
and from which they issue in a fluid form into vessels placed at its end,
to receive the product of the operation which is called distillation. Of
+
116
CHEMISTRY.
pow-
this machine a very important improvement was introduced some years
ago, under the name of the Scotch still, of which the principal advan-
tages are, that a very increased surface of the fluid in the still is expos-
ed to the action of the fire, and that a very ready method is provided
for the escape of the vapour. Trituration, pulverization, and levigation,
express the operations by which solid bodies are reduced into powders
of different degrees of fineness, by bruising, beating in a mortar, and
grinding on a smooth stone with some liquid. The finer parts of
ders are separated from the coarser by the sieve: but sometimes they
are washed or mixed with water or other fluid that does not change
them: the heavier parts fall to the bottom, and the finer supported in
the fluid are poured off with it, which is called decantation. Filtration
is a finer species of sifting or washing, performed through the pores
of
paper, flannel, fine linen, sand, porous stones, pounded glass, &c.
It is of use to separate fluids from solids mixed but not combined with
them. Thus muddy water will pass through pure, and leave the mud
suspended in it on the filtre: but salt water will not pass through fresh,
leaving on the filtre the salt dissolved in it. Unsized or blotting paper
answers well for a chemical filtre, when wrapped up like an inverted
cone, and placed in a funnel to support it against the weight of the liquid.
Lixiviation is the separation, by means of water or other fluid, of sub-
stances dissolved in it from others not soluble in it. If a substance con-
sisting of salt and clay be broken and placed in water, the salt will be
dissolved, and may be poured off from the clay which will remain in the
vessel. Evaporation is employed to separate a fluid from a solid, or
a more volatile fluid from another less volatile. When the vapour is
not to be preserved the operation is performed in open vessels capable.
of bearing heat: but when the vapours are collected and condensed in
close vessels the operation is called distillation. When the substances
driven off by heat are collected in a solid form within the vessel, it is
called sublimation. When a salt (that is to say every body possessing
a taste, easily melted, soluble in water, and incombustible) is dissolved
in any fluid, and the fluid is again thrown off by evaporation, the salt
reassumes a solid form, arranging its particles in a particular manner;
some as cubes, others as pyramids, others as prisms, &c. Not that each
particular salt uniformly assumes one particular form; but that each has
a certain number of forms peculiar to itself, in which it is always found.
Thus common salt always forms itself into a cube or solid of six sides,
into an octohedron or solid of eight sides, or into some other figure re-
ducible to one of these. This process is termed crystallization. Solution
expresses the effect produced on certain solid substances when acted on
by fluids. When salt or sugar is mixed with water, or when resin
is mixed with spirits of wine, the particles of the solid are separated
from each other, and intimately united with the fluid. Each sub-
stance, however, retains its original properties, and by evaporation the
salt, &c. may be restored to its original solid state, and in its original
quantity. When the fluid has dissolved as much of the solid as it
can, it is said to be saturated, and if more of the solid be added it
will remain undissolved. But in the dissolution of metals by acids a
different effect is produced: for then either the metal or the acid, or
the water in it is altered, and new products are obtained. The liquid
used to dissolve a solid, is called a menstruum or solvent. If to a so-
lution of a solid in a fluid a third substance be added,
3
which has
-
CHEMISTRY.
117
a stronger affinity for the fluid than the first body, it will unite with
it, and the dissolved solid will be thrown down, restored to its ori-
ginal solid state. This operation is called precipitation. For instance,
common salt thrown into pure water is dissolved and dispersed
through the whole water; if however a quantity of spirit of wine be
poured into the solution, the salt becomes visible, detaches itself from
the water, and is precipitated to the bottom of the vessel, in the
state of a very fine powder. The affinity or attraction of the particles
of the water for those of the spirit of wine being stronger than that
for the salt, the salt is abandoned by the water, which hastens to unite
with the spirit. When any body is made, by the action of heat, to
pass from a solid to a liquid state, it is said to be fused or melted: but
this last term is not so proper, because simple solution is also com-
monly called melting: fusion is therefore usually employed in che-
mistry. Metals are fused in crucibles, small open vessels of earthen
ware or porcelane, or of a mixture of clay and black-lead in powder.
For very delicate operations small crucibles have also been made of
platinum the densest of all known metals. When broad and shallow
they are called cupels, and the arched cover or mufle over them ad-
mits the air to the metal. The various degrees of heat required for
chemical operations, from that of a wax taper, to that of the most in-
tense fire, require a variety of fire-places or furnaces, distinguished by
different names descriptive of their nature or uses. Blow-pipes are
employed to direct the flame of a taper or lamp by the breath, against
a bit of ore or other substance to be examined.
•
When a body is burned, with the assistance of the air we breathe, it
is said to be in combustion: but when the burning is attended by slight
explosions or cracklings it is called deflagration; and when the explosion
produces a loud report it is detonation.
First OF SIMPLE OR ELEMENTARY SUBSTANCES.
It was an opinion established among philosophers of ancient times
(and the expression of it is not yet banished from common language),
that there were only four simple substances, namely, earth, water, air,
and fire. These they called elements, as supposing all other bodies to be
composed of them. We now know, however, that all these supposed
first elements are themselves compounds of others. Earths may be se-
parated into nine different kinds of substances, by the union of two or
more of which every kind of earth is formed. Water is a compound of
two principles, called hydrogen, because it produces water, and oxygen,
the cause of acidity. Air consists of oxygen and azotic gases. Fire is
composed of light and caloric, or the principle of heat. The alchymists
however classed all bodies under salt, sulphur, and mercury, without
probably affixing any precise meaning to the terms. For every thing
which resisted fire they called salt; whatever was consumed by fire they
called sulphur, and every substance that flew off without burning was
called mercury.
By simple substances at the present day, we mean only such as have
not yet been de-compounded, or which we have yet no reason to sus-
pect to be compounds. The simple substances now known are reckon-
ed to be 32, divided into those that can be confined in proper vessels,
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CHEMISTRY.
and those that are of a nature too subtile to be confined within any ves-
sels we possess.
DIVISION FIRST.
The confinable substances are in number 29, arranged under 4 heads :
viz. 1. oxygen, 2. simple combustibles, 3. simple incombustibles, and
4. metals.
I. The first class comprehends only one substance called oxygen, of
a very peculiar and important nature. The common air consists chiefly
of two fluids, one of which supports animal life, and in it metals are
calcined or oxydized, and combustibles burn. The other fluid possesses
the directly opposite qualities. The base of the first is oxygen, so called
from two Greek words signifying to produce acidity, because one of
the most general properties of this base is to form acids when combined
with certain other substances. When oxygen is united with the prin-
ciple of heat, it forms oxygen gas, which was formerly called vital or
pure air. It is elastic and invisible, and gives no signs of acidity. It
is 740 times lighter than an equal bulk of water: but heavier than com-
mon air, as 1105 to 1000. It is not sensibly absorbed by water; but
entirely so by bodies in combustion. It is necessary for breathing, and
the support of life.

Oxygen may be procured from various substances, even from the
green leaves of plants, although in a small quantity. For this purpose
fill a bell-glass with water; introduce fresh green leaves under it, when
inverted in a vessel also containing water. If the apparatus be exposed
to the sun's rays pure oxygen gas will be disengaged, and ascend through
the water to occupy a part of its place in the upper part of the
bell-glass. The most common way however of obtaining oxygen gas
is from the black oxyde of manganese, (the state in which this mineral
is commonly found) reduced to a powder, and heated in a stone or iron
retort. When the retort is red-hot, the oxygen is plentifully obtained,
and may be received into an inverted vessel filled with water, which the
gas will displace. One pound of good manganese yields upwards of
1400 cubic inches of oxygen gas nearly pure. If sulphuric acid (oil
of vitriol) be added to the manganese, the gas is produced in a larger
quantity, and in a lower heat; so that a glass retort may be used,
and the heat of a lamp is sufficient.
If a lighted taper be let down into a phial filled with oxygen gas,
it will burn with such splendor, that the eye can scarcely bear the
glare of the light, producing also a much greater heat than when
burning in common air. Animals live much longer in oxygen gas
than in an equal quantity of the common air of the atmosphere, of
which indeed that gas forms nearly one-fourth part.
Gas. This term now so common on matters relating to chemistry
is nevertheless no novelty in the sciencc. It was employed, two
hundred years ago, by the last of the alchymists Van Helmont, formerly
mentioned, to express the vapour which escaped from liquors during
the vinous fermentation, and indeed every thing driven off from bo-
dies in a state of vapour, by heat. By gas at present is understood a
fluid perfectly invisible, and elastic, that can be contained in a vessel,
that expands by heat, and contracts by cold, but is never condensed
into a liquid or solid, as the vapours of water or camphor.
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CHEMISTRY.
119
II. The second class of simple substances, are the simple com-
bustibles, which are four in number, viz. sulphur, phosphorus, car-
bon, and hydrogen.
1. Sulphur, or brimstone, (a corruption of burnt-stone) was known
in the earliest ages; and being found native in many parts of the
world, it must soon have attracted attention. It was used by the an-
cients in medicine, and its fumes or vapours were employed to bleach
wool. It is a non-conductor of electricity, and therefore becomes
electric by friction. Sulphur is generally found in the neighbourhood
of volcanos, either burning or extinct, as a loose powder. At the
Solfatara, the bason of an extinct volcano near Naples, the sulphurous
vapour ascend through cracks in the ground, and are collected on
stones placed round them, to be afterwards dissolved and crystallized.
Sulphur is also found in mineral waters, as in the springs at Har-
rowgate in Yorkshire. The yellow brassy cubes often seen in slates
are composed of sulphur and iron or copper, and called pyrites.
This substance is exposed to heat in earthen tubes connected with a
vessel of cast iron containing water. The sulphur as it melts is col-
lected in the water, after which it is again melted and poured into
moulds, whence it comes out as roll-sulphur. This being sublimated
by gentle heat in a close room, the vapours are collected in what is
called the flowers of sulphur. With most of the metals sulphur
unites, rendering them brittle and fusible. If a bar of iron be made
red-hot, and then touched with a roll of sulphur, the two combine
and drop down together in a fluid state, forming sulphuret of iron,
of the same nature with the native iron pyrites. Put some threads
moistened and dipped in sulphur into a vessel floating on water; set
them on fire, and cover the whole with an inverted glass. The threads
will burn some time, and the glass will be filled with dense white va-
pours. The water will ascend into the glass, and after some time the
vapour will disappear. The water combining with it acquires a suffo-
cating smell and taste, turns blue vegetable colours to red, and gives all
other marks of the existence of an acid: this is the sulphurous acid.
Again, take any round bottle with a wide mouth, containing some wa-
ter; fit to it a cork to which is fixed an iron spoon containing a mixture
of one part of nitrate of potash, (saltpetre,) and six of sulphur; set
the mixture on fire, and introduce the spoon quickly into the bottle,
corking it very tightly. The combustion will go on rapidly, and the
water in the bottom of the bottle will become sour; but without much
suffocating odour. This is sulphuric acid, commonly called oil of vit-
riol, or vitriolic acid, because it was usually obtained by distilling green
vitriol, a salt composed of sulphuric acid and the green oxyde or calx
of iron.
L

Acids. This term signifying originally sour, has been extended to
all substances possessing these properties. 1. When applied to the
tongue they excite the sensation of sour, in Latin acid. 2. They change
the blue colours of vegetables to red. The blues usually employed for
this purpose are the tincture of litmus, and the syrup of violets or ra-
dishes. 3. They unite with water in almost any proportion. 4. They
combine with all the alkalies, and most of the metallic oxydes and earths,
forming the compounds which we call in general salts. It is to be ob-
served, however, that every acid does not possess all those proper-
ties; but all possess so many of them as to distinguish them from
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CHEMISTRY.
other substances.
bodies in chemistry.
Alkalies. These are just the reverse of the acids. The word is
Arabic, formed from observation of the properties of the plant kali.
When it is burnt, and the ashes are washed in water, and afterwards
evaporated to dryness, a white substance remains, to which was given
the name alkali. The term is now however extended to all substances
possessing the following properties. 1. A caustic, that is a burning
taste. 2. They are volatilized by heat. 3. They are capable of com-
bining with acids. 4. Soluble in water even when combined with car-
bonic acid. 5. Capable of converting vegetable blues to green.
The alkalies at present known are potass, soda, and ammonia, of
which in their proper place.
2. Phosphorus, so called from Greek words signifying the bearer of
light, is never found pure in a natural state, but commonly united to
oxygen, under the form of phosphoric acid, in different substances,
animal vegetable and mineral. Phosphorus is usually yellowish and
partially transparent, of the consistence of wax. At the common heat
of the atmosphere it gives out light in the dark; taking fire sponta-
neously, and burning rapidly in the open air, when heated to 122° of
Fahrenheit, with a brilliant white flame; and is then changed into
phosphoric acid. Phosphorus, was originally and accidentally discover-
ed by Brandt, a chemist of Hamburgh, in 1669, in labouring to extract
from urine a liquid which he hoped would turn silver into gold. It
is now procured by a very different process, namely, from a combina-
tion of burnt bones, sulphuric acid, sugar (acetate) of lead, and powder-
ed charcoal. Near Bolognia in Italy is found a stone or rather heavy
spar, which after exposure to the sun's rays retains for a considerable
time the property of giving out light.
3. Carbon. If a piece of wood be put into a crucible, well covered
with sand, to exclude the air, and kept red-hot for some time, it is
converted into a black shining brittle substance, without taste or smell,
well known under the name of charcoal. Its properties are the same
from whatever wood it be obtained, provided it be exposed for an hour,
in a covered crucible, to the heat of a forge. Unless this precaution be
used, the properties of charcoal differ considerably. Common charcoal
prepared by slowly burning a pile of wood, covered over with earth to
exclude all external air, is not quite pure; but it may be purified by
washing it repeatedly when powdered in water, and then drying it in
a strong heat in a close vessel. Charcoal is insoluble in water, and ne-
ver will putrify or rot like wood. It is for this reason that the ends of
stakes and posts intended to be planted in the ground are partially burnt
or charred; a practice well known to antiquity. In the year 1776,
operations were carried on by the Neapolitan government, for clearing
the entrance of the once famous harbour of Brundusium, now Brindisi,
toward the south-east extremity of Italy. In removing the sand and
mud, to deepen the water, were found some hundreds of long stakes or
piles, of which the lower ends had evidently been charred, and which
from their position and arrangement, from coins found among them,
and from other circumstances, must then have been in that situation for
eighteen hundred and twenty-four years. For they were undoubt-
edly, parts of the moles constructed in the year 48, before the
christian era, by Julius Cæsar, in the beginning of the civil wars of
The acids are by far the most important class of



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CHEMISTRY.
121
Rome, in the view of preventing the escape by sea of his insatiably am-
bitious and unrelenting enemy Pompey.
•
Charcoal forms a considerable proportion of all animals and vegetables.
When new made, and wrapt up in clothes that have contracted a dis-
agreeable odour, it effectually destroys it; when boiled with meat be-
ginning to putrify, it takes away the taint and it is perhaps the best
of all substances for a tooth-powder.
:
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​Charcoal is composed of two substances, the one which is its essen-
tial and characteristic ingredient, and therefore called carbon, (from
the Latin term for charcoal or wood-fuel,) and oxygen, already de-
scribed. Nothing can appear to be a more direct contradiction, not
in terms only but in fact, than the assertion that charcoal and the
most precious of all stones, the diamond, are one and the same sub-
stance. When pure the diamond is perfectly transparent and peculiar-
ly brilliant. Its figure is various, but most commonly it is found in
the form of a prism of six sides, terminated by pyramids of six sides.
It is the hardest of all bodies: the best tempered steel makes no im-
pression on it; and only by grinding it with another diamond, whole
or in powder, can it be affected. The weight of diamond is to that of
pure water, as 3 to 1. As the diamond is not affected by a consider-
able heat, it was for many ages considered to be incombustible. To
the transcendent genius of Newton it was reserved to conceive that the
diamond, like many other bodies, was also combustible. Observing
that combustibles refract light more powerfully, in proportion to their
density, than other bodies, (see Optics,) and that the diamond possessed
the refracting property in great perfection, he judged it then to be sus-
ceptible of combustion. This singular conjecture was first verified be-
fore the grand duke of Tuscany in 1694, by means of a powerful burn-
ing-glass. Similar experiments were afterwards made in other parts of
the continent, and latterly in this country. Before a diamond can be
burnt it must be exposed to the sun's rays collected in the focus of a
large burning-glass, or to a heat of fourteen or fifteen degrees of Wedge-
wood's scale. The product of the combustion is carbonic acid gas,
which 100 parts contain nearly 18 of diamond and 82 of oxygen, and
100 parts of charcoal contain nearly 64 of diamond and 36 of oxygen.
Iron exposed to a strong heat in combination with charcoal is converted
into steel the same effect is produced in iron heated with diamond.
of
From the experiments here mentioned it appears that the French
chemists Lavoisier, &c. mistook the nature of carbon, which exists pure
only in diamond; whereas charcoal is not carbon alone, but carbon and
oxygen, and should therefore, according to their own doctrine, be called
an oxyde of carbon.
4. Hydrogen is the last of the simple combustible bodies. It is ob-
tained in the form of gas, by pouring sulphuric acid, diluted with double
its bulk of water, upon iron filings in a retort; the vapour arising from
these substances is hydrogen gas, formerly called inflammable air. This
gas is found abundantly in nature, in coal-mines, where it is called the
fire-damp, because it instantly extinguishes fire; also in muddy and
marshy waters, and in all places where animal or vegetable substances
are in the progress of putrefaction. When greatly diluted with com-
mon air, hydrogen gas may be breathed without much danger; but
when pure it is speedily destructive of animal life. If a vessel be filled
with it, and a candle or a red-hot iron be brought to the mouth, the
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CHEMISTRY
7
gas takes fire and is wholly consumed. Hydrogen gas and pure oxy-
gen mixed together in a vessel continue unaltered: but if a lighted ta-
per touch them, or an electric spark, they burn with astonishing rapi-
dity, and explode with violence. If 85 parts by weight of oxygen gas,
and 15 of hydrogen gas be mixed in a close vessel, and made to explode,
both completely disappear, and in their room in the vessel is found a
quantity of water, exactly equal in weight to them both. By this fact
we are taught, that water is not a simple substance, but a compound
of oxygen and hydrogen, which last has hence its name, which in the
Greek signifies what produces water. It has been with much probabi-
lity conjectured that detonations in the air, or what we call claps of
thunder, are produced by the rapid combustion of oxygen and hydro-
gen gases, fired by electric matter, or what we call lightning; and that
the rain which descends so copiously during thunder-storms is the wa-
ter suddenly formed by the combustion. Hydrogen gas is the lightest
substance of which we are able to measure the weight, being about
twelve times lighter than common air; and for this reason it is em-
ployed to fill air-balloons. It dissolves sulphur, phosphorus, and car-
bon, forming therewith sulphureted, phosphureted, and carbureted
hydrogen gases. The first compound was formerly called hepatic gas:
it has a highly fœtid odour, similar to that of rotten eggs, which is in
fact owing to the emission of this gas; it also gives the strong odour to
Harrowgate waters.
All the simple combustible bodies may be combined with one another;
and to the combinations are given names ending in uret, and derived
from the ingredient which characterizes the compound. Thus we have
the carburet of sulphur, and the sulphuret of carbon; in the first the
carbon predominating, and in the last the sulphur.
III. The third class of simple confinable substances are the simple
incombustibles, which are only two, vix. azote and muriatic acid. Se-
veral other incombustible bodies, not hitherto de-compounded are
known; but there is reason to suspect them not to be simple bodies.
1. Azote. If iron filings and sulphur mixed together be moistened
with water, and put into a glass vessel full of common air, the oxygen
of the air will be entirely absorbed in the course of some days; but a
considerable portion of air will remain, incapable of any farther diminu-
tion. This remaining portion of the air is azotic gas. The same pro-
duct is obtained much more speedily by applying a heat of 100° to very
weak nitrous acid (aquafortis) poured upon a piece of muscular flesh.
This gas, which was first discovered in 1772 by Dr. Rutherford, pro-
fessor of botany in Edinburgh, is very nearly as heavy as common air,
and like it may be condensed or expanded. It is exceedingly noxious
to animals, which, if obliged to breathe it, expire immediately. From
this property it has its name drawn from Greek words signifying what
is destructive of life; an appellation not however belonging to this gas
alone; for we have just seen that hydrogen gas is almost as suddenly
destructive of animal life.


If 13 parts of azotic gas, and 87 of oxygen gas, be introduced into a
tube deprived of air, and a number of electric sparks be sent through
the mixture, the gases disappear, and in their place is found a small
quantity of nitric acid. But it is usually procured by distilling three
parts of nitre (saltpetre,) and one of sulphuric acid, in a glase retort.
The nitrous acid is generally obtained, in large manufactories, by

CHEMISTRY.
123
distilling a mixture of nitre and clay: but in this case the acid or
aquafortis is always weak and impure.
When azotic and hydrogen
gases are combined together by heat the compound is ammonia, or the
volatile alkali, called also spirit of hartshorn, or of sal ammoniac, from.
the substances from which it is drawn.

2. Muriatic acid, so called from the Latin muria, expressing the
saltness of the sea, is also known as acid of salt, and marine acid. It
is obtained from the mixture of equal quantities of common salt and
sulphuric acid. By the application of heat a violent effervescence or
boiling takes place, and a vapour is produced called muriatic acid gas.
This fluid resembles common air, in its mechanical properties, but is
nearly twice as heavy, and hence may be poured from one vessel into
another like water. Its smell is pungent and peculiar; and when in
contact with air a visible white smoke is produced. When drawn into
the mouth the taste is excessively acid; much more so than the sharpest
vinegar. No animal can breathe this gas, and when thrown into a` jar
filled with it they die instantaneously: neither will any combustible
burn in it. When combined with earths, alkalies and metals, it forms
muriates. The compound of the muriatic acid with soda, or the mu-
riate of soda, is the common sea-salt, sometimes called sal gem. Com-
mon salt exists native in great abundance. Immense masses of it are
found in various countries, requiring only to be dug out and reduced to
powder. In this state it is called rock-salt. The water of the ocean
also contains a great proportion of this salt, to which it owes its taste,
and its power of resisting freezing, till cooled down to 284 or 31°
below the freezing point of fresh water. When sea or salt water is
evaporated by heat, the salt falls down in crystals; in this way is salt
obtained in this country. But this salt is not sufficiently pure for che-
mical purposes, as it contains in general a compound of muriatic acid
with lime, magnesia, &c. According to late experiments, purified salt
contains, in 100 parts, 39 of acid, 53 of soda, and 8 of water.
plate of iron be kept for some days in a solution of salt in water, it will
separate the soda from the acid, which will form a crust on the iron.
If a
Salt assists the fusion of glass, and causes clay to fuse readily, for
which reason it is employed in glazing earthen ware. If a little of the
blue liquid obtained by boiling red cabbage leaves in water in a tin
vessel, be let up into a vessel of muriatic acid gas, the gas is absorbed,
but the liquid assumes a fine red colour. This property of changing
blue vegetable colours to red is characteristic of acids in general.
If manganese be put into a glass retort with muriatic acid, and ex-
posed to heat, strong fermentation will be excited, during which the
acid is converted into gas, but surcharged with oxygen drawn from
the manganese. In preparing this gas great care must be taken to pre-
vent its escape into the apartment. The French chemist Pelletier fell a
sacrifice to an attempt to breathe it; for a consumption was brought on
which soon proved mortal. The use of this oxygenated muriatic acid,
or as it is called oxy-muriatic acid, is of great importance in bleaching :
for instead of turning blue vegetable colours to red, it destroys all
colours entirely, and is therefore of great service in whitening thread,
linen, cotton, wax, &c.
IV. The fourth class of confinable bodies comprehends the metals.
These are the great instruments of all our improvements: without them
few arts and sciences would have existed. So sensible were the ancients
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124
CHEMISTRY.
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سال
of their great importance, that they exalted to the rank of deities those
persons who first discovered the art of working them. In chemistry
they have always filled a conspicuous station: at one period the whole
science was confined to them; and to the rage for making and transmut-
ing metals, chemistry may be said to owe its very existence.
✔
1
The distinguishing properties of metals are these. 1. Lustre or bril-
liancy, for which reason they always form the basis of reflecting mir-
rors. 2. Opacity, or impenetrability to light, another requisite for mir-
rors. 3. They may be fused and still retain their opacity, which qua-
lifies them to be cast in moulds and shaped as we choose: but in their
fusibility they greatly differ; for mercury continues fluid in the ordinary
heat of the atmosphere, while platinum can be fused only by the most
violent possible heat. 4. Their specific gravity is much greater than
that of any other class of known bodies. Antimony, one of the highest
of the metals, is more than six times as heavy as water; and platinum
the heaviest of them all is twenty-three times as heavy as water. This
great density of their particles contributes greatly to the reflection of a
great quantity of light, constituting the metallic lustre. 5. Metals are
the best conductors of electricity. 6. None of them are very hard; but
some of them may be hardened by art to such a degree as to exceed in
hardness almost all other bodies. 7. The elasticity of the metals de-
pends upon their hardness; and it is increased by the same process
which increases their hardness. 8. One of the most important proper-
ties of the metals is their malleability, or their capacity of being extend-
ed, flattened, and shaped, when struck with a hammer. This invalu-
able property is not common to them all however: but it is remarkable
that almost all those possess it which were known to the ancients. This
property is increased considerably by heat: but metals become denser
and harder by being hammered. 9. Another property not common to
all metals is ductility, or the capacity of being drawn out into wire, by
being forced through holes of various diameters. 10. Ductility depends,
in some measure, on another property, namely, tenacity, or the power
which a metallic wire of a given diameter possesses, of resisting, with-
out breaking, the action of a weight suspended from its extremity, or
of being strongly pulled in opposite directions. This tenacity is very
different in different metals. A wire of iron, for instance, one tenth of
an inch in diameter, will bear without breaking nearly 500 pound
weight; whereas a wire of lead of the same size will not bear above 29
pound. 11. When exposed to the action of heat and air together, most
of the metals lose their lustre, and are calcined, or converted into earthy-
like powders of different colours and properties, according to the me-
tal and the degree of heat employed. Several even take fire when ex-
posed to a strong heat, and after combustion the remainder is found to
be the very same earthy-like substance. 12. If any of these remain-
ing substances or calces, (as they are called, from the Latin term for
ashes, also lime or chalk in dust or powdered) be mixed with charcoal
in powder, and exposed to a strong heat, in a proper vessel, they are
again converted back to the metals from which they were produced; or
they are said to be reduced, and the operation is termed reduction.
1
攀
​From these facts Stahl conceived that metals were composed of earth
and phlogiston, a Greek name signifying whatever is capable of com-
bustion, of which a certain portion exists in all combustible bodies.
Several phenomena however of the calcination of metals remained still


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CHEMISTRY.
125

unexplained, particularly this, that the calces of metals are all consider-
ably heavier than the metals from which they are obtained. At last in
the memoires of the Academy of Sciences of Paris for 1774, appeared an
account of the experiments of the eminent chemist Lavoisier, by which
it appeared that a certain quantity of air disappeared in calcining a piece
of metal, which was precisely equal to the excess in weight of the calx
above the original metal. By the subsequent discoveries of our most
ingenious countryman Dr. Priestley, it was ascertained that only one
of the component parts of air disappeared during calcination, namely
the oxygen or principle of acidity; and that the weight of the oxygen
being subtracted from that of the calx, the remainder was always pre-
cisely equal to that of the metal before calcination. Calcination is there-
fore the union of a metal with oxygen: and if any substance having a
greater affinity with oxygen than the calx, as charcoal for instance, be
combined with the calx, the oxygen will leave it to unite with the char-
coal, and the calx will return to its original metallic form, weight and
properties. In consequence of these facts the terms calx and calcination
have been laid aside, as conveying false ideas; instead of which oxyde,
and oxydisement are now adopted in chemistry. We are now brought
to the 13th property of metals, which is that they are all susceptible
of combination with oxygen, sometimes accompanied by combustion,
and sometimes not. The new compounds are called metallic oxydes, and
in some cases metallic acids. According to the proportion of oxygen the
oxydes acquire different properties and colours: but the colour ought
never to be taken as a sure mark of the quantity of oxygen in the com-
pound; for that depends on various other circumstances. 14. Metals
are capable of combination with simple combustible bodies: and the
compound is denoted by the name of the combustible ending in uret.
Thus the combination of a metal, as silver with sulphur or phosphorus,
is called the sulphuret or the phosphuret of silver. 15. Lastly the me-
tals are capable of being combined with one another, and of so forming
mixt substances, some of them of the greatest utility in the manu-
facture of instruments and utensils. Thus lead and tin together form
pewter; copper and zinc, formerly called spelter, make brass; copper
and tin, in different proportions, form bell-metal, bronze, cannon, mir-
rors for telescopes, &c. All these metallic compounds are called alloys,
excepting when mercury is one of the ingredients, when the compound
is called an amalgam. Thus the gold coin of this country is a mix-
ture of eleven parts of gold with one of copper, by which the gold is
alloyed, that is allayed or lowered in purity. But a mixture of gold
with mercury is an amalgam of gold.
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THE METALS.
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*
The metals at present known amount to twenty-three, of which only
eleven were distinguished before the year 17830. They may be arranged
under three classes, viz. 1. Malleable metals. 2. Such metals as are brittle,
and easily fusible. And, 3. Such as are brittle but fused with difficulty
The metals belonging to each class are shewn in the following table.
CHEMISTRY.
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1. Platinum
2. Gold
3. Silver
4. Mercury
5. Copper
I. Malleable.
1. Bismuth
2. Antimony
II. Brittle and easily fused.
1. Cobalt
2. Manganese
3. Tungsten
6. Iron
7. Tin
8. Lead
9. Nickel
10. Zinc
4. Molybdenum
5. Uranium
III. Brittle and difficultly fused.
3. Tellurium
4. Arsenic.
6. Titanium
7. Chromium
8. Columbium
9. Tantalium
The metals of the 1st class were formerly called metals, by way of ex-
cellence, as being either malleable or ductile, or both: all the others
were called semimetals (half metals), because they possessed none of those
properties. The first four were also called noble or perfect metals, and
the next four were called imperfect. Those distinctions conveying very
improper conceptions of the metals, are now laid aside.
1. Platinum.` This metal was unknown as a distinct metal in Europe
before the year 1752. It has hitherto been found in South America
alone, at Choco in Peru, and at Santa Fe, near Carthagena, on the north
coast. The substance was however first brought to England by Mr.
Wood from Jamaica in 1741. Seven years afterwards it was noticed by
Ulloa, one of the scientific men employed in Peru, in measuring a de-
gree of the meridian under the equator. It was Scheffer of Sweden,
who in 1752 proved it to be a distinct and a new metal.
Platinum when pure is white like silver, but not so bright, and
verging to tin; has no taste nor smell; its specific gravity when ham-
mered is twenty-three times that of an equal bulk of pure water, so that
it is by far the heaviest body known; it is exceedingly malleable and
ductile, and may be hammered out into very thin plates. In these
properties however platinum is perhaps inferior to gold; but all other
metals it surpasses. Such is its tenacity, that a wire made of it one
twelfth of an inch in diameter will support a weight of 275 pounds
avoirdupois. Platinum was at first called platina, as derived from
plata, the Spanish term for silver, from which we have our plate, to sig-
nify vessels of silver, and plating, for covering inferior metals with silver.
It is found in small grains, and always in a metallic state; it is the most
infusible of all metals; for it cannot be melted, in any useful quantity
by the most powerful artificial heat that can be produced. When com-
bined or mixed with some other bodies it may be melted without diffi-

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CHEMISTRY.
127
a.
culty; but then it is no longer pure. In 1788, when the art of melting.
casting and polishing platinum was known in Spain, the late king
Charles the Third (grandfather of the present Ferdinand the 7th) trans-
mitted to the late liberal Pope Pius the Sixth two communion-cups, to
be used in high ceremonies in St. Peter's church in Rome, as the first
fruits of the new and singularly precious metal, the production of his
American dominions. As platinum is not acted upon by the most vio-
lent heat, nor by air or water, nor by any other than the nitro-muriatic
acid, (aqua regia), by boiling the metal in sixteen times its weight of
the acid, it might be of the utmost utility for vessels, were it to be ob-
tained at a cheap rate: indeed, as it is, small crucibles, scales, and other
implements are made of it, for performing very delicate operations in
chemistry, geometry, &c.
2. Gold seems to have been known and valued from the very begin-
ning of the world: it has hitherto been found only in a metallic state,
in grains, ramifications and leaves. No metal perhaps excepting iron
is more widely scattered over the globe; but generally in very small
quantities. There are few countries in which gold grains are not found
in the sands of mountain-torrents and rivers. Spain in ancient times
furnished Europe with gold: but since the discovery of the American
From the mines of
treasures, the Spanish mines have been closed up.
Hungary the Emperor of Austria draws very considerable sums.
No substance is comparable to gold for ductility and malleability;
for it may be beaten out into leaves so thin, that one grain of gold
(480 in 1 ounce) will cover a square of 73 inches a side, or 563 square
inches. These leaves can be in thickness no more than a two hundred
and eighty two thousandth part of an inch, so that 282 thousand of them
would only make an inch in thickness. But the gold leaf with which
silver wire is covered, is reduced so low as to be only one twelfth part
of the former thickness. An ounce of gold upon silver wire may be
drawn out to an extent of above thirteen hundred miles. Notwith-
standing this prodigious closeness of parts, gold yields in tenacity to
iron, copper, platinum and silver; for a gold wire one-twelfth of an inch
in diameter bears only about 150 pounds weight. When melted gold
assumes a bright bluish green colour, and expands considerably, con-
tracting again when cold, so that it is not proper for casting in moulds.
Gold is not the least altered by exposure to the air or water; it will
also bear to be kept red-hot for a great length of time, without un-
dergoing any change. It is however capable of combination with
oxygen, and even of combustion in certain circumstances. The result
is an oxyde of gold, which is of two kinds, purple or violet when the
quantity of oxygen is small; but yellow when it is large. When ex-
posed to the violent heat of a very powerful burning-glass, or when
an electric spark is sent through gold, it forms the purple oxyde.
Gold is acted upon by no acid but the nitro-muriatic or aqua regia,
so called because gold was formerly called the king of the metals.
This solution of gold yields by evaporation crystals of a beautiful
yellow colour, which when dissolved tinge the skin of an indelible
deep purple. If into this liquor be dropped a solution of tin in mu-
riatic acid, the gold is thrown down in a fine purple powder, well
known under the name of the precipitate of Cassius, much employ-
ed in porcelain and enamel. Gold has not yet been combined with
sulphur, carbon or hydrogen; nor with the simple incombustibles. It
F


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3. Silver. This metal seems to have been known almost as early
as gold. It is inferior in brilliancy to no metal but perhaps steel
when finely polished: in malleability it stands next to platinum and
gold. It may be beaten into leaves into a one hundred and sixtieth
part of an inch thick, and may be drawn into wire finer than any
human hair, so that a single grain may be extended about 400 feet in
length. A wire of silver one-twelfth of an inch in diameter will sup-
port a weight of 187 pounds. Silver melts when it becomes complete-
ly red-hot; and its brilliancy is then much increased. If the heat be
increased after it is melted the liquid boils; and by a very strong and
long continued heat it may be volatilized. Silver is not oxydized,
(rusted) by exposure to the air, nor by being long kept under water:
it indeed loses its lustre in the air, and becomes tarnished. When how-
ever, silver has been long exposed to the air of churches, theatres, or
other places of human resort, it acquires a covering of a violet colour
which deprives it of its lustre and even its malleability. This is pro-
duced by a combination of the silver with the sulphurous vapours of
the atmosphere of such places: the violet or black covering is therefore
a sulphuret of silver. Silver is acted upon by the sulphuric and nitric
acids, but not by the muriatic. With the nitric acid, (aquafortis,)
silver is dissolved into a colourless liquor, which stains of an indelible
black all animal and vegetable substances. Hence it is used as a per-
manent ink, and for giving a black colour to the hair; but in these
operations great caution is necessary, and the liquor should be much
weakened by water; because it is extremely caustic and corrosive.
Nitric acid dissolves more than half its weight of silver, the solution de-
positing crystals. When these are fused by a gentle heat, they are cast
in molds, and form lunar caustic, or lapis infernalis, employed in sur-
gery to open up ulcers, and destroy fungous excrescences called proud
flesh.
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128
CHEMISTRY.
unites readily however with the greater number of the metals, forming
a variety of alloys.
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4
Silver combines readily with the greater number of the metals :
with gold it forms a compound of a greenish cast; and the alloy be-
ing more fusible than gold it is employed to solder pieces of that metal
together.
·
1
4. Mercury, called also quicksilver, was known in very remote times,
and employed by the ancients in gilding and in separating gold from
other bodies, just as it is in modern times. Mercury abounds in
Europe, particularly in Spain, Germany, and Hungary. The mines
of Almaden in the south of Spain were worked by the Romans, and
vast quantities are sent from thence to America, to be employed in
separating the silver from other substances. Almaden is the Arabic
name for the mine, so applied by the Moors when masters of that part
of Spain. In Britain, no mercury is extracted from the earth, although
Pennant states that mercury in its native state is found in different
mountains of Scotland. It is commonly met with in slate, lime-stone
or sand-stone: when united with sulphur it is called cinnabar, which,
when reduced to a fine powder is called vermilion, a word brought
through the French from the Latin vermiculus, a small worm, in al-
lusion to the kermes-insect, from which a red dye is obtained.
:
At the ordinary temperature of the atmosphere, mercury is always
fluid; differing in this respect from all other metals; but it becomes
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CHEMISTRY.
129
solid when exposed to intense cold. By experiments made on the shores
of Hudson's bay in North America, it was found that mercury congeals
or becomes solid at a temperature of 39° below the beginning or
Fahrenheit's scale, Mercury has been frequently congealed in this
country also, by applying to it a high degree of cold, produced by the
mixture of different solid substances which by their union become li-
quid; such as snow and potass or fixed ammoniac, &c. When thus
made solid mercury may be hammered and extended without breaking.
When heated to 660º it boils and may be totally distilled or evaporated
from one vessel into another; and by this property it is separated from
other bodies with which it may be combined. When acted upon a
long time by heat and air, mercury absorbs oxygen, and is converted
into a red oxyde, formerly called precipitate per se. When dissolved
in nitric acid, evaporated to dryness, and then exposed to a strong
heat, in a porcelane vessel, it assumes when powdered a brilliant red
colour, usually called red precipitate, possessing poisonous qualities.
The muriatic acid acts on mercury only after long digestion, forming
muriate of mercury. If this be saturated with oxygen corrosive subli-
mate is formed. By blending completely equal parts of mercury and
oxygenated muriate, mercurius dulcis or calomel is obtained. With the
greater number of metals mercury unites, forming amalgams, much
used in gilding. The mixture of 10 parts of mercury, and 1 of gold
is spread over the metal to be gilded: by a gentle heat the mercury
is driven off, and the gold adheres to the metal. The use of mercury
in the tube of the barometer is founded on the fact that, its specific
gravity being to that of water, as 13,568 to 1, if by the pressure of
the atmosphere, the mercury in an exhausted tube stand at 30 inches,
it will answer the same purposes, and with infinitely greater conve-
niency, as a column of water of 34 feet in height.
5º. Copper. Next to gold and silver copper seems to have been
the first known metal. Before the method of working iron was dis-
covered, copper was the principal material of all domestic utensils, and
instruments of war. Even during the famous Trojan war, only 1200
years before our Saviour, the arms offensive as well as defensive of the
warriors celebrated by Homer, were made of bronze, a compound of
copper and tin. The name copper is brought down to us from the
island Cyprus in the bottom of the Mediterranean, where the metal
was produced and first made known to the Greeks. Copper is found
in many parts of Britain: but the most extraordinary mine is that of
Parys mountain in the isle of Anglesey. This mine had been worked
at a very remote period, but had been abandoned: at last in 1768,
after a long search, a great body of copper ore was discovered. The
ore is lodged in a hollow with water which, being impregnated with
the copper, is drawn up and distributed into pits. In this water a
quantity of iron is immersed, and the particles of copper are immedi-
ately precipitated, the iron being reduced to a yellow ochre.
Copper may be hammered out into very thin leaves. Dutch leaf,
or Dutch gold as it is called, is in fact only copper leaf coloured by
the fumes of zinc. It is also very ductile, and such is its tenacity,
that a copper wire one-twelfth of an inch in diameter is capable of
supporting 302 pounds weight. Copper is not altered by water: not
even at a red-heat, unless air be admitted at the same time, when the
copper is oxydated. This is plain from the fact that, when water is
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130
CHEMISTRY.

:
kept in a copper vessel, a green crust or verdegris is formed on that
part which is in contact with the water. Sulphuric acid, when strong-
fy concentrated, dissolves copper, producing crystals of a fine blue,
being a sulphate of copper, commonly called blue vitriol. When plates
of copper are exposed to the fumes of vinegar (acetous acid) it is
oxydized, forming verdegris. This is chiefly prepared about Montpellier
in the south of France.
+
Copper may be combined with most of the metals forming alloys of
great utility. The alloy of copper with gold is easily formed by fus-
ing the metals together. This alloy is much used, because the copper
hardens the gold, without injuring its colour; and the hardness is
greatest when 7 parts of gold are alloyed with 1 of copper. The gold
coin of Britain and France consists of 11 parts of gold and 1 of copper.
The alloy of these metals is more fusible than gold alone; it is there-
fore employed to solder together pieces of that metal. A mixture of
copper and platinum takes a fine polish, and is not liable to tarnish; on
which account it has been advantageously employed in mirrors of re-
flecting télescopes. The alloy of silver with copper is harder and more
sonorous than silver alone. The silver coin of this country consists of
15 parts of silver and 1 of copper: that of France is much purer, con-
taining 19% of silver to 1 of copper. The amalgam of copper cannot
be formed by simply mixing it with mercury, even when heat is applied;
because the heat necessary to melt the copper makes the mercury
evaporate or sublime. The easiest way of making this amalgam is to
triturate the mercury with common salt and verdegris. Copper unites
very readily with tin, forming compounds of great utility, such as can-
non or gun-metal, bell-metal, bronze for statues, &c. and mirrors of te-
lescopes. The addition diminshes the ductility of copper, increasing
its hardness, fusibility, tenacity, and sonorousness. Bronze and gun-
metal consist of from 6 to 12 parts of tin, with 100 parts of copper.
The halcos of the ancient Greeks, and the as of the Romans were
compounds of copper and tin, of which sharp-edged instruments, even
swords and spear-heads were formed, and of which many are preserved
to the present time; while those of sidèros, ferrum, iron, being very
liable to destruction from moisture, are extremely rare. The ancient
copper coin was of the same composition, and not brass as is commonly
said. Bell-metal consists in general of 3 parts of copper to 1 of tin; it
is of a greyish white, very hard, elastic and sonorous. Mirrors of tele-
scopes are made of 1 part of copper and 3 of tin; the alloy is very hard
and receives a fine polish; but other compounds have been found to
answer equally well. Vessels of copper, especially when used as
kitchen-utensils, are usually lined with a thin coat of tin, to prevent
the copper from oxydizing, or turning to rust, and thereby to prevent
any part of that poisonous metal from mixing with the food in the ves-
sels. The interior surface of the vessel is scraped very clean with an
iron instrument, and rubbed over with sal ammoniac. The vessel is
then heated, and a little pitch thrown into it, and allowed to spread
over the surface; a bit of tin is then applied all over the hot copper,
which instantly assumes a silvery whiteness. These previous steps are
necessary to render the copper perfectly pure and metallic; for tin will
not combine with the rust or oxyde of copper. The coat of tin thus
applied is extremely thin; nor is there any method known of laying it
on thicker. More tin may indeed be applied, but even a moderate heat
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CHEMISTRY.
131
will melt this additional quantity and cause it to run off. A copper
pan 9 inches in diameter, and 31 inches deep acquired by being timed
an additional weight of only 21 grains, or the 23d part of an ounce. In
tinning vessels lead is frequently mixed with the tin, a practice that
cannot be too severely condemned.
6. Iron, the most useful, and the most abundant of all the metals,
was neither so early known nor so easily wrought as gold, silver or cop-
per. Moses, who was born 1635 years before our era, mentions the ores
from which iron was drawn, and the furnaces for working it; he tells
us that of iron were made swords, knives, axes, and tools for cutting
stone. The knowledge of iron is said to have been carried into Greece
from Asia 200 years after Moses; yet during the Trojan war, still later
by 200 years, iron was in such estimation, that the Grecian hero
Achilles proposed a ball of that metal as a prize, in the funeral games
he celebrated in honour of his friend Patroclus. It appears that at
the same period none of the weapons of war were made of iron.
Iron is attracted by the magnet, and is itself the substance which
constitutes the lodestone; but when it is perfectly pure it very soon
loses the magnetic virtue. It is malleable in every degree of tempe-
rature; and its malleablity increases in proportion as the heat aug-
ments: it cannot however be hammered out so thin as gold or silver,
or even as copper. The ductility of iron is much more perfect; for
it may be drawn out into wire as fine as a human hair. Such is its
tenacity that an iron wire one-twelfth of an inch in diameter will sup-
port very nearly 550 pounds avoirdupois.
When exposed to the air the surface of iron is soon tarnished, being
gradually changed into a brown or yellow powder called rust. This
change takes place the more rapidly when the atmosphere is moist,
because the iron then the more readily combines with the oxygen of
the air, for which it has a very strong affinity. When iron filings are
kept in water, in a heat not under 70°, they are gradually converted
into a black powder called martial ethiops, and a quantity of hydrogen
gas is emitted. If the steam of water be made to pass through a red-
hot iron tube, it is instantly decomposed. The oxygen of the steam
combines with the iron, and the hydrogen gas passes through the tube
to be collected in proper vessels. This is one of the easiest ways of
obtaining pure hydrogen gas. By these facts we discover that iron
has a strong affinity for oxygen, since it is able to detach it from air
and water; iron has also a capacity of taking fire and burning with
great vivacity. Twist a small iron wire into the shape of a cork-screw
by rolling it round a cylinder, fix one end of it in a cork, and to the
other attach a small bit of cotton thread dipped in melted tallow, set
fire to the cotton, and plunge it while burning into a jar filled with
oxygen gas. The wire catches fire from the cotton, and burns with
great brilliancy; the iron combining with the oxygen and so being
converted into an oxyde. When iron filings are kept red-hot in a
vessel, and constantly agitated, they turn to a dark red powder formerly
called crocus marlis. Common rust of iron is merely this oxyde com-
bined with carbonic acid gas. If equal quantities of iron filings and
sulphur be mixed together, and formed into a paste with water, the
sulphur decomposes the water by absorbing the oxygen so rapidly, that
the mixture sometimes takes fire, even though buried under ground.
:
J

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132
CHEMISTRY.
This fact has been considered to afford an explanation of the origin of
volcanos.
When 16 parts of iron, 16 of phosphorus, and 1 of charcoal powder
are fused together in a crucible, the substance formed is magnetic, very
brittle, and when broken is of a white colour. This substance possesses
the qualities of cold-short iron, which is brittle when cold, but malle-
able when hot; the brittleness may however be removed by heating the
cold-short iron strongly with limestone. Carburet of iron is found na-
tive in various parts of Britain, particularly in Cumberland; and is
well known as plumbago or black-lead. When pure it contains 90
parts of carbon and 10 of iron; but is generally mixed with clay, and
flinty substances.
1
Iron is divided into three sorts; cast or pig-iron, wrought or soft
iron, and steel. Cast iron is the name of the metal when first separated
from the ores, which consist generally of the oxyde of iron and clay.
The objects of the manufacturer are to separate all the clay, and to re-
store the oxyde to a metallic state. These two objects are attained at
once by mixing the ore, when reduced to small pieces, with a certain
portion of lime-stone and charcoal, and exposing the whole to a very
violent heat in furnaces constructed for the purpose. The charcoal or
the coke (pit-coal charred) having lost their oxygen absorb it from the
oxyde, and the iron is restored to its metallic state. The lime combines
with the clay, both being melted into a kind of fluid glass. The iron
itself now metallic is also fused by the violent heat, and being specifi-
cally heavier than the glass, falls down and is collected in the bot-
tom of the furnace, while the glass floats on the surface. A hole in
the lower part of the furnace is now opened, and the iron flows out
into moulds prepared to receive it. The cast-iron thus obtained is
scarcely malleable at any temperature, and generally so hard as to resist
the file: it is extremely brittle, and can neither be hardened nor soften-
ed by cooling or heating; it is more sonorous than steel. Of iron in
this state many valuable utensils, and parts of important machines,
as well as iron cannon are formed.
-

The most considerable iron works in England are those of Cole-
brook-dale on the Severn in Shropshire; but the most extensive iron
manufactory in the world is that at Carron, in Stirling-shire in Scotland.
Here were first cast the short light and manageable cannon of all sorts,
(some even 8 inches in the bore, and discharging a ball of no less than
68 pounds,) called from the foundery Carronades, now universally
adopted by all the maritime powers of the world.
Wrought or soft iron is obtained in this way. The cast iron is
put into a furnace, and kept melted by means of the flames of the
combustibles made to play upon its surface. In this state it is con-
stantly stirred by the workmen, that every part may be exposed to
the air.
In about an hour the hottest part of the mass begins to
heave and swell, emitting a lambent blue flame. This operation is
continued for another hour, when the iron is brought into a state fit
to be wrought. As the process advances, the iron gradually ac-
quires more consistency, and at last, notwithstanding the continu-
ance of the heat, it completely congeals into a solid mass. The
iron is then taken out of the furnace while hot, and violently beaten
by means of very weighty hammers driven by machinery. This
hammering not only makes the particles of the iron run the closer
•
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CHEMISTRY.
133
together, but drives away several impurities which would otherwise
continue to adhere to it. This is the iron fit for the forge.
When small pieces of iron are placed in alternate layers, with
powdered charcoal in a close crucible, and kept in a strong red-heat
for 8 or 10 hours, a substance is formed called steel, distinguished
from pure iron by several properties. Steel is unmalleable while cold;
at least it acquires this property by being immersed while red-hot
into cold water; for this immersion adds greatly to the hardness of
steel, but has no effect upon plain iron. Steel is brittle, it resists the
file, cuts glass, gives sparks with flint, and retains the magnetic vir-
tue for any length of time. By being made red-hot, and then suf-
fered to cool very slowly, it loses its hardness. When red-hot it is
malleable, and may then be hammered into plates much thinner than
can be made of iron. By being repeatedly exposed to the fire in an
open vessel, and then hammered, steel is again brought back to
wrought iron.
The ancients to whom the change of iron into steel was known, at-
tributed it in general to the qualities of certain rivers and waters into
which the hot iron was plunged. The swords of Spain were famous of
old, and preferred by the Romans to those made in any other country.
Bilbilis, the birth-place of the epigrammatic poet Martial, the remains
of which are still perceptible near Calatayud on the banks of the Xalon,
the ancient Salo, which falls into the Ebro above Saragossa, was cele-
brated for furnishing the finest sword-blades, tempered in the cold wa
ters of that river. A Toledo blade was long held in high estimation,
the steel manufactured there being tempered in the Tagus. A fine and
durable edge is also given to swords in the mountains of Biscay in the
north of Spain, by brandishing them, when made red-hot, in the keen
frosty air of the winter months.


Cast Steel, the most valuable of all sorts of steel was discovered about
1750 by Mr. Huntsman of Sheffield. It is more fusible than common
steel, and therefore cannot be welded with iron. It is used for making
and the
razors, surgeons' instruments, and other similar purposes
degrees of temper are judged of by the colours, some of them very
beautiful, which the steel exhibits, in different degrees of heat with ac-
cess of air. At first the steel becomes of a pale yellow, then of a deeper
yellow, next reddish, afterwards deep blue, and at last bright blue. At
this point it becomes red-hot, and all colours disappear. With gold
an alloy may be made of iron, extremely hard and applicable to cutting
instruments: platinum is usually found alloyed with iron: on iron mer-
cury does not act; it is usually therefore kept in iron vessels; by the
addition of zinc, however, an amalgam of iron may be obtained.
7. Tin. This metal was known in the most remote ages of antiquity.
The Phoenicians of Tyre and Sidon, procured it from Spain and Britain;
at least the islands called Cassiterides, (in Greek the islands of tin) are
supposed to be the Scilly isles, then much more extensive than at pre-
sent, together with the adjacent parts of Cornwall, where it is still
found in great abundance. The importance of tin in giving to wool
the fine scarlet and purple colour, was probably known to the Phoni-
cians, who concealed with the utmost care from other nations the
source from which they drew that metal; pretending the invaluable
Tyrian purple was wholly produced from a particular shell-fish found
on their own shores.
t
184
CHEMISTRY.
Tin is very malleable; for tin-leaf, or tin-roll as it is called, is about
one thousandth part of an inch in thickness, and might if wanted
be beat much thinner. The ductility and tenacity of tin are however
much inferior to those of the preceding metals; for a tin wire of one-
twelfth of an inch in diameter will not support a weight of more than
thirty-one pounds. When tin is melted in an open vessel, its surface
is soon covered with a grey powder, which is an oxyde of tin form-
ed by the union of the metal with the oxygen of the air. By continu-
ing the heat the powder changes its colour, and at last becomes yel-
low, being the putty employed in polishing glass and other hard bodies,
and for rendering glass white and opaque, converting it into enamel.
By heating tin in concentrated nitric acid, it is turned into a white
powder deposited in the bottom of the vessel, containing 72 parts of
tin, and 28 of oxygen. When equal parts of this white oxyde and
sulphur are mixed and heated in a retort, a substance consisting of 60
parts of the oxyde, and 40 of sulphur is obtained, which is a sulphu-
reted oxyde of tin, commonly called aurum musivum, used by japan-
ners to produce a beautiful gold collar.
Tin may be combined with most of the metals; but the greater num-
ber of the alloys are brittle. Mercury very readily dissolves tin when
cold;
; and the two metals may be combined in any proportion by
pouring mercury into melted tin. The amalgam of 1 part of tin, and
3 of mercury is used for silvering, as it is erroneously called, the backs
of glass mirrors. Although tin do not readily combine with iron, yet
the affinity between the two metals is sufficiently shown by the forma-
tion of tin-plate, or white-iron, in French fer blanc. This most useful
alloy is made in this way. The thin iron plates are well scoured, and
then put into a pickle of oil of vitriol, (sulphuric acid) diluted with wa
ter, to dissolve the oxyde or rust that may have remained in spite of
the scouring. Being again scoured, and washed, the iron plates are
dipped into a vessel of melted tin, having its surface covered with fat
or oil, to prevent its oxydisement by contact with the air. Coming
thus into immediate communication with the metallic tin, it is not only
covered on the surface, but completely penetrated by the melted metal.
Tin and lead may be combined in any proportion by fusion; forming an
alloy harder and more tenacious than tin. These qualities are at the
greatest when the alloy contains 3 parts of tin, and 1 of lead. Tin
and lead are the principal ingredients in pewter; this alloy being
more fusible than either of the metals alone, is used by plumbers as a
solder.



8. Lead was known in very early times, and was by the ancients
considered as nearly related to tin. It differs from other metals in this,
that it neither becomes harder nor specifically heavier by being ham-
mered. It is very malleable; but its ductility is not great: and so
weak is its tenacity, that a wire of th of an inch in diameter will not
bear a weight of 18 pounds. Lead is found in many parts of the
British isles. The mine of Arkingdale in Yorkshire is at present the
first in England. The mines of Lead-hills in the mountains of Clydes-
dale in Scotland are, by foreign naturalists, held to be the richest in
Europe. They produce also a proportion of silver which usually ac-
companies lead ore. In the brooks of the same mountains are found
grains of gold, in former times before the discovery of America an ob-
ject of national attention.
CHEMISTRY.
185
&
Lead is generally found in the form of galena a compound of lead
and sulphur in various proportions, sometimes 84 of the former sub-
stance to 16 of the latter. Lead is not directly acted upon by water;
but moisture assists the action of air upon it. Hence the white crust
on the sides of leaden vessels containing water, just at the surface of the
water. When lead is kept melted in an open vessel, the surface is soon
covered with a thin grey skin or dross. If this be removed, another
pellicle will soon be formed; and by continuing the operation the
whole lead will be changed into the same oxyde. This substance heat-
ed and agitated in an open vessel becomes first of a greenish grey colour,
and at last yellow, in which state it is the massicot used in painting.
Thin plates of lead exposed to the vapour of warm vinegar are gradu-
ally corroded, uniting with the oxygen, and converted into a heavy
white power used in painting under the name of white-lead. If massi-
cot be ground to a fine powder, put into a furnace, and constantly stir-
red while the flames play upon its surface, it is in about 48 hours
changed to a beautiful red powder, called minium or red-lead. As all
the oxydes of lead are easily converted by heat into glass, and in that
state will combine with almost every other metal but platinum, gold
and silver, this property becomes of great utility in separating gold and
silver from the inferior metals with which they happen to be united.
The gold or silver is melted down along with lead, and kept in that
state for some time, in a flat cup called a cupel, made of burnt bones
or wood-ashes. The lead is vitrified and sinks into the cupel, carry-
ing with it all the metals which were mixed with the gold and silver,
and leaving these last on the cupel in a state of purity. This pro
cess is called cupellation.
The lead afterwards extracted from the
cupel is litharge, a half vitrified substance of a high colour, being an
oxyde of lead more or less mixed with oxydes of other metals. When
lead is exposed to the action of acetic acid, (the strongest distilled
vinegar) in the open air, it is oxydised, and the oxyde is dissolved
as it is formed. This acetate of lead has many names, such as sugar
of lead, sugar of saturn, extract of saturn, &c. Having been strenuously
recommended by Goulard, a surgeon of Montpellier in the south of
France, as an excellent application in cases of inflammation, it came
to be called Goulard's extract or tincture of lead. By dyers and calico
printers, this substance is much used to fix their colours.

Lead may be combined with most of the metals; with nearly an
equal quantity of copper it forms the substance employed to make
printers' types for very large characters.
9. Nickel is found in different parts of Germany, Sweden, &c. of a
reddish brown colour not unlike copper, and was indeed taken for cop-
per until 1751, when Cronstedt, the celebrated Swedish naturalist, as-
certained it to be a new metal. When perfectly pure nickel is of a
fine silvery colour, and a little softer than iron. It is attracted by the
magnet as strongly as iron, and may like it be converted into a magnet,
pointing to the north like the common magnetic needle. Nickel has
been procured that was not magnetic, but this property it was found
was owing to the presence of arsenic, which has the singular power of
destroying the magnetic virtue of iron, and all other metals susceptible
of that virtue.
10. Zino was known to the ancient Greeks by the name of cadmian,
from Cadmus who first taught thern the use of it: at least they knew a
;
136
CHEMISTRY.
}
certain mineral by that name which, when united with copper, formed
brass. This mineral must therefore have contained a good deal of zinc.
The first time this metal is. mentioned is in 1280, by Albertus Magnus,
who called it the marcasite of gold. The word zinc is first seen in the
writings of Paracelsus who died in 1541. It is now often called spelter
by workers in metals. Zinc is never found pure; and it was not till
1721 that a method of separating it from its ore was discovered in
Germany. The ores of zinc are abundant, generally accompanying
those of lead, particularly galena. They are in general called calamine,
but when united to sulphur, they are called blende, or vulgarly black
jack. Zinc forms as it were the limit between the malleable and the
brittle metals. It is of a brilliant white colour with a shade of blue,
consisting of a number of thin plates adhering together. When raised
to a very strong red-heat in an open vessel, zinc takes fire, burning with
a brilliant flame, and emitting a large quantity of very light white flakes:
this oxyde is called flowers of zinc.
調査
​Zinc combines with almost all the metals; and some of its alloys are
of great importance. One part of zinc is sufficient to destroy the ducti-
lity of one hundred parts of gold. With mercury it forms an amalgam
employed to rub on electrical machines, in order to excite their electri-
city. With copper zinc readily combines, forming one of the most use-
ful of all the metallic combinations. The metals are usually combined
together by exposing to heat alternate plates of copper and zinc in the
state of calamine, which is a native oxyde of zinc combined with car-
bonic acid. When the zinc does not exceed the 4th part of the copper
the alloy is the well known substance brass. This compound is more
fusible than copper, and not so apt to tarnish. It is malleable, and
may be drawn into wire. When the alloy contains three parts of zinc
and four of copper it assumes a colour nearly that of gold, but it is not
so malleable as brass. It is then called pinchbeck, from the name of
the artist who first employed it, and princes metal, from Prince Rupert,
nephew of Charles the First, who invented it. Zinc and tin may be easily
fused, forming a compound harder than zinc, which is often the princi-
pal ingredient in making pewter.



II. Brittle and easily fused.
1. Bismuth is of a reddish white colour, almost without taste or smell:
when smartly struck with a hammer it breaks, and is therefore not mal-
leable, nor can it be drawn into wire. When dissolved in nitric acid,
and water is poured into the solution, a white powder is thrown down
consisting of 81 parts of bismuth, and 18 of oxygen. This oxyde is
used as a paint under the name of pearl white. This substance has
been used as a cosmetic, or to ornament and improve the complexion.
It is however very injurious to the skin which it renders black, and
has besides very hurtful effects on the constitution in general. Bis-
muth unites readily with tin, and is therefore employed, on the con-
tinent, but not in Britain, in manufacturing pewter. When 2 parts
of bismuth, and 3 of lead are combined, the compound possesses a
tenacity ten times greater than that of lead alone. When 8 parts of
bismuth, 5 of lead, and 3 of tin are melted together, a white alloy

CHEMISTRY
137
is obtained, which is so fusible as to liquify at a heat of 212°; it
therefore remains melted under boiling water.
2. Antimony. The ancients were acquainted with an oxyde of this
metal, called by the Greeks stimmi, and by the Latins stibium. This
mineral was used by the ladies of Asia also, as we learn from the
Old Testament, to give a black tinge to the eye-brows. No metal has
so much attracted the attention of physicians as antimony; one party
extolling it as an infallible remedy for every disease, and another de-
crying it as a most virulent poison. Antimony is of a greyish colour
with a good deal of brilliancy: when rubbed it gives out to the fingers
a peculiar taste and smell. If 75 parts of antimony and 25 of sulphur
be fused together, a sulphuret of antimony is obtained, in which state
this metal is generally found native; and when the sulphur was se-
parated, the remainder was called regulus of antimony. Eight parts of
the oxyde of antimony, and one of the sulphuret being fused together,
a red half-transparent glass of antimony is produced; but if the sul-
phuret be increased to two parts the compound is a yellowish red,
called crocus metallorum. If the sulphuret be increased to four parts,
the compound is opaque, and of a dark red. This is the liver of an-
timony of the apothecaries. With lead the combination of one six-
teenth of antimony forms the metal of printers' types. A small portion
of the oxyde of antimony may be dissolved in the acetic acid and
wine, for the enetic liquor called antimonial wine; with the acid of
tartar the oxyde forms the salt emetic tartar, or antimoniated tartrite
of potass. It consists of 35 parts of tartaric acid, 40 of oxyde of an-
timony, 17 of potass, and 8 of water. The famous medicine known
as James's powders is a compound of phosphoric acid, lime, and oxyde
of antimony, in the proportion of 43 parts of phosphate of lime to
57 of antimony, forming a white powder partially soluble in acids,
and a very energetic emetic; in small doses it only promotes per-
spiration.

3. Tellurium is of a bluish white colour, between lead and zinc, of
considerable brilliancy, and in its internal structure resembles antimony.
It was found in Transylvania, and first discovered to be a new metal
in 1782 its properties however are hitherto but little known.
4. Arsenic is often found native in various parts of Germany, in
masses of various irregular shapes. It is of a leaden grey colour, and
is always alloyed with some iron, often containing also silver and some-
times gold. When heat is thrown upon arsenic with the blow-pipe,
it emits a white smoke, with a strong smell of garlic, burns with a
blue flame, gradually evaporates, and deposits a white powder.
Arsenic is perhaps the most brittle of all the metals, falling to pieces
under a very moderate blow of the hammer, and very easily reduced
to a very fine powder in a mortar. The point of heat at which it
melts is not known, because being the most volatile of all the metals
it sublimes without melting when exposed in a close vessel to a heat
of 540º. When exposed to a moderate heat in contact with air, it
sublimes in the form of a white powder, called white arsenic. This
oxyde is of a brittle compact glassy appearance, having a sharp acrid
taste which at last leaves an impression of sweetness, and is one of the
most virulent poisons known. Arsenic combined with sulphur by heat
forms a red glassy body called realgar, which is sometimes used as a
paint; and if the sulphur be in a smaller proportion the compound is
T
1

138
CHEMISTRY.
?
the fine yellow powder called orpiment also used in painting; but as
well as the realgar dangerous in the use. Copper combined with arsenic
in a crucible forms a brittle white substance, which when united with
a little bismuth or tin becomes white copper, or white tombac. One cu-
rious property of arsenic is that it destroys the magnetic virtue of iron,
and of every other metal susceptible of that virtue.
3
III. Brittle and difficultly fused.
1. Cobalt is a heavy mineral of a grey colour, which has been used
in Europe, for these three centuries past, to tinge glass of a blue colour.
It was not however till 1733 that the nature of the metal was ascertain-
ed. Cobalt is of a grey colour with a shade of red, and by no means
brilliant. When violently heated to 130° of Wedgewood, it melts; but
no heat has hitherto been able to make it evaporate. Like iron and
nickel it attracts the magnet, and may be converted into an artificial
magnet. Oxyde of cobalt when freed from arsenic is called zaffer,
which fused with 3 parts of quartz, and 1 of potass, forms a glass of
beautiful blue colour; this glass pulverized becomes smalt used in some
kinds of painting. The blue used in colouring starch is also made from
it; it is likewise used by painters of earthern ware, enamellers, &c.
2. Manganese has been long known and used in the manufacture of
glass, for destroying the green or yellow tints in it; on which account
it is commonly called glass-makers soap; it also gives a violet colour to
glass and porcelane. When pure manganese is of a greyish white
and pretty brilliant, it requires a heat of 1609 of Wedgewood to fuse
it; so that next to platinum it is the most difficult to be fused of all the
metals. It is almost always found in the state of a black oxyde consist-
ing of 40 parts of oxygen, and 60 of pure manganese. As it readily
unites with copper it has been proposed to substitute manganese in
the place of the noxious metal arsenic, in the composition of white
copper or tombac, used in various arts. With mercury it has not yet
been combined; but it readily unites with iron; and indeed it has
scarcely ever been found free from some mixture with iron.
3. Tungsten is found in Sweden, very heavy and of an opaque white
colour; hence its name, which signifies heavy stone. It is one of the
hardest of the metals.
4. Molybdenum. By this Greek term, and by the Latin plumbago,
seem to have been signified oxydes of lead; but by the moderns they
are applied without distinction to all substances having these properties s
to be light, soft, easily broken, of a dark colour and a greasy feel,
leaving a stain on the fingers. The distinction between these substances
was first ascertained by Scheele in 1778. The one consisting of iron
and carbon he called plumbago, already noticed as a carburet of iron,
commonly called black lead; the other substance he found to consist of
sulphur and a whitish powder possessing the properties of an acid.
5. Uranium, is of an iron grey colour: it is found in Germany com-
bined with sulphur.
6. Titanium was found lately in Cornwall, as an oxyde united with
iron,
7. Chromium is of a whitish yellow colour, commonly called the
red lead ore of Siberia where it was first found.
t
1

CHEMISTRY.
139
8. Columbium is so called as having been found in North America,
originally discovered by the illustrious navigator Columbus. It is of a
dark brown grey colour.
9. Tantalium was lately discovered in Swedish Finland, and sup-
posed to be an ore of tin.
The last five metals have hitherto been but imperfectly examined :
their properties and uses are therefore still but little known to che-
mists.
DIVISION SECOND.
THE substances mentioned in the foregoing part of this chapter are of
such a nature that they can be collected together in quantities, and re-
tained, and confined in vessels fitted for the purpose, in order to be
subjected to the test of experiment, and accurately examined. The
substances noticed in the ensuing pages are of a very different descrip-
tion; for we have no way to collect and retain them to be brought un-
der examination. They are of a nature too subtile to be confined in
our vessels; and they have too strong an affinity for other bodies, to
remain a moment in a separate state. The number of these unconfin-
able bodies at present known, or supposed to exist, is four, viz. light,
heat, the matter of electricity, and that of magnetism. But as electricity
and magnetism are scarcely at present considered as belonging to
chemistry, and as they have both been already noticed in sections 6th
and 7th of Chapter II. our attention will now be confined to the con-
sideration of the chemical properties of the two former articles, viz.
light and heat.

I. Light. Concerning the nature of light two different theories have
been advanced by philosophers. The eminent Dutch naturalist and as-
tronomer Huygens, who died in 1695, considered light to be a subtile
fluid filling space, which rendered bodies visible by the undulations or
waves produced in it. According to this theory, when the sun at his
rising agitates this fluid, waves or undulations are excited in it, which
gradually extend themselves until they strike our eyes, and then we
see the sun; much in the way in which waves are produced in
water, when a stone is thrown into it, or when the water strikes with
force against any resisting body. This opinion was powerfully support-
ed by the celebrated mathematician Euler: but the greater number of
later philosophers, with Newton at their head, have considered light
to be a real substance consisting of small particles constantly flying off
from luminous bodies, moving in all directions in straight lines, and
rendering bodies visible and luminous by passing from them into the eye.
This theory Newton established on the basis of geometrical demonstra-
tion, by showing that all the phenomena of light may be properly de-
duced from it. Huygens and Euler on the other hand attempted to
establish their scheme, rather by starting objections to the Newtonian,
than by giving direct proofs of the truth of their own. These objec-
tions, however, suggested by men every way competent to discuss the
question, prove that the nature and operation of light are not yet com-
pletely understood; and some of them have been lately very ingenious-
by revived and supported by Dr. Young in his lectures on natural philo-
sophy, delivered before the Royal Institution of Great Britain, and
"
140
CHEMISTRY.
published in 1807. At present, however it will be best to follow the
Newtonian theory, in which light is conceived to be a real substance,
proceeding in all directions, in straight lines, from luminous bodies.
In section 5th of Chapter II. on Optics are given general remarks on the
mechanical properties and uses of light: the business of the present
portion of this work is to consider some of the chemical properties
of that substance.

Light is capable of entering into bodies, and of remaining in them,
and of being afterwards extricated from them, without any alteration.
Many substances become luminous by merely exposing them to light,
losing that luminousness when removed into a dark place, and again re-
covering it when brought back into the light; and so on as often as is
required. Some natural substances possess this property in a high de-
gree, as the stone of Bologna, so called because it was found in 1630,
near that city in the north of Italy. It is a compound of sulphur with
the heavy earth thence called barytes or ponderous spar. The late Mr.
Canton discovered a composition of burnt oyster-shells and sulphur
which possessed the property of absorbing and giving out light, in a re-
markable degree. This is phosphorus, a name borrowed from the Greek
language, signifying the light-bearer.
Light not only enters into bodies, but combines with them, and be-
comes one of their constituent parts. It has been long known, that
different kinds of animal substances, just when they begin to putrify,
shine in the dark: this is most noticeable in certain fishes as the whit-
ing, the herring, and the mackerel. If four drams of either of these be
put into a phial, containing two ounces of sea-water, and the phial be
set in a dark place, a luminous ring appears on the surface of the liquid,
within three days, and the whole liquid becomes luminous when shaken.
When the liquor is frozen the light disappears; but returns when it is
thawed. By a moderate heat the light is increased; but a boiling heat
destroys it altogether.
Almost all bodies absorb light; but they do not all give it out again
like phosphorus and animal bodies, some absorbing one coloured ray,
others another, while they reflect the rest; this is the cause of the
colours of bodies. A red body for instance reflects the red rays,
and absorbs all the others. Hence a white body reflects all the rays
and absorbs none, whereas a black body absorbs all the rays and re-
flects none.
The absorption of light produces very sensible changes
in bodies. Plants for instance will vegetate in the dark; but then
their colour is always white, they have scarcely any taste, and are
found to contain but a very small proportion of combustible matter.
In a short time however after their exposure to light their colour turns
to green, their taste is more intense, and the quantity of combustible
matter is sensibly increased. Of this fact a striking instance is related
below, from a note by Professor Robison of Edinburgh, in his edition
of Dr. Black's lectures on chemistry.* Another remarkable example





.

*"Having occasion (says Professor Robison,) in autumn 1772, to go down to inspect a drain in à
coal-work, and crawling along I laid my hand on a very luxuriaut plant, having a copious deep-in-
deuted white. foliage quite unknown to me. I enquired of the colliers what it was. None of them
conli tell me, It being curious, 1 made a sed be carried up to the day-light, to learn of the work-
mên what sort of plant it was: bát no body had ever seen any like it. A few days after, looking at
the sod, as it lay at the mouth of the pit, I observed that the plant bad languished and died for want
of water, as I imagined. But looking at it more attentively, I observed that a new vegetation was
CHEMISTRY.
141
t
of the agency of light is the change produced by it in reducing the
oxydes or calces of metals to their original metallic state. The red
oxydes of mercury (red precipitate), and of lead, (minium or red
lead,) become much lighter in colour when exposed to the sun. From
these, and similar facts it is evident that light has the property of se-
parating oxygen from several oxydes. It is a peculiar property of light
that its particles are never found to cohere together, so as to form masses
of any sensible magnitude; a difference from other bodies to be account-
ed for only on the supposition that its component particles, instead of
attracting, repel each other.
The different sources from which light is emitted are these four: 1.
The sun and stars. 2. Combustion or burning.
2. Combustion or burning. 3. Heat; and 4. per-
cussion or striking of one body against another.
The light emitted by the stars possesses precisely the same proper-
ties as the light of the sun. The cause of light being continually
emitted by those bodies, and the source from which it proceeds, will
probably for ever baffle the utmost exertions of the human understand-
ing; at any rate however such enquiries do not properly fall within the
cognisance of chemistry.
In every case of combustion, light is emitted. Now combustion of
simple combustibles and metals is the act of combining the combustible
with oxygen. Consequently the light produced during combustion
must have existed previously, combined with either the combustible
or the oxygen.

If heat be applied to bodies, and continually increased, there is a
certain temperature or degree of heat at which, when they arrive, they
become luminous; and this whether the body be or be not in contact
with air: thus a piece of iron wire becomes red-hot while immersed
in melted lead. To this general law there is one remarkable exception;
for it does not appear that the gases become luminous even at a much
higher temperature.
The last source of light is percussion. It is well known that when
flint and steel are smartly struck against one another, a spark always
appears, capable of setting fire to tinder or gun-powder. The spark
in this case is a small particle of the iron, which is driven off and catches
fire during its passage through the air. This is therefore a case of com-
bustion. But light often appears when two bodies are struck against
each other, when both are certainly incombustible. Thus sparks are
emitted when two pieces of quartz stone are smartly struck together;
even under water.
་

beginning, with little sproutings from the same stem, and that this new growth was of a green
colour. This instantly brought to my recollection the curious observations of Dufay, and I caused
the sod to be set in the ground and watered. I was the more incited to this, because I thought that
my fingers had contracted a sensible aromatic smell, by handling the plant at this time. After about
a week this root set out several stems and leaves of common tansy. The workmen now recollected
that the sods carried down into the pit had been taken from au old cottage-garden hard by, where a
great deal of tansy was still growing in the grass. Having more sods of the same plant brought up
from the pit, the foliage was luxuriant and white like the first, but it gave no aromatic smell what-
ever. All these last plants withered away in the air, although carefully watered, and in each from the
same stalk sprouted fresh steins and foliage of tansy, full of the ordinary juices and flavour of that
plant, and of a full green colour. I have repeated the same experiment on lovage, miut, and carra-
ways, which all throve very well below in the dark, but with a blanched foliage, not shooting up-
wards, but lying flat on the ground; and in not one of them did the foliage bear any resemblance to
the genuine leaves of the plants. All of them died down when brought into day-light; and the
stocks than produced the proper plants, in their usual dress and having all their distinguishing
smells."
1
1
142
CHEMISTRY.
“
II. Calori. Nothing is more familiar to us than heat: to define it
therefore is quite unnecessary. When we say that a person feels heat,
that a stone is hot, we are easily understood; yet in these expressions
the words heat and hot have distinct meanings. In the first case we
signify the animal sensation of heat, and in the second the cause of that
sensation. When we put our hand on a hot stone, we experience the
sensation of heat, and the cause of this sensation we now term caloric,
from the Latin word calor signifying heat or warmth. The phenomena
in which caloric is concerned are the most intricate and interesting in
chemistry, and the study of them has contributed in a very particular
manner to the advancement of the science. They involve however
some of those parts of chemistry which are still exceedingly obscure,
and which consequently have occasioned the most important disputes
among chemists. For these reasons the nature and properties of ca-
loric, or the matter of heat, claim very particular attention. In the pre-
sent work however it will be impossible to do much more than merely
to point out the names of those properties.
1. Nature of caloric. On the nature of caloric philosophers have
maintained two different opinions; some supposing caloric to be like
gravity, merely a property of matter, consisting somehow or other in
a peculiar motion of its particles; others on the contrary conceiving
caloric to be a real distinct substance. The latter opinion seems best to
correspond with experiment; the former however has been lately sup-
ported by very plausible arguments. At any rate we have the same
reason to consider caloric to be a real substance as we have to believe
light to be a real substance. For particular statements of the argu-
ments, and facts adduced on each side of this difficult question, the
reader is referred to the System of Chemistry of Dr. Thomas Thomson
of Edinburgh, and the Lectures on Natural Philosophy and the Me-
chanic Arts, of Dr. Thomas Young of London; both excellent and very
late publications.



From observing the light and heat produced by rays from the sun
or a fire at a proper distance, we are apt to believe them to be in-
separable. This however is not the case: for it has long been as-
certained by philosophers, that the light of the moon, even when
concentrated by a lens so strongly as to surpass, in point of illumi-
nation, the brightest candles or lamps, does not produce the least
sensible heat; and yet these candles or lamps produce a very sensible
heat. Here then we have rays of light, consisting of the seven pris-
matic coloured rays, which produce no heat. Hence as we have here
rays of light which excite no heat, we must conclude, that the rays
from the sun and bodies in combustion, which do excite heat, must
consist of a mixture of rays of light, and rays of caloric. These two
sorts of rays are very easily separated in this way. If a glass mirror
be held before a fire it reflects the rays of light, but not the rays of
heat: a metallic mirror on the contrary reflects both. The glass mir-
ror becomes hot; but the metallic mirror does not change its tempe-
rature. If a plate of clear glass be suddenly interposed between the
face and a glowing fire, it completely intercepts the warming power of
the fire, without causing any sensible diminution of its light: conse-
quently the glass stops the caloric, but allows the light to pass through.
If however, the glass be kept in this position till its temperature be
raised to the highest, the rays of heat are no longer intercepted, but
1

CHEMISTRY.
143
·
pass through the glass as freely as those of light. From these and si-
milar experiments it appears that the light of the sun is composed of
three sorts of rays, the colorific which produce colour, the calorific
which produce heat, and the deoxydizing which, separating oxygen
from the oxydes or calces of metals, restore them to their original me-
tallic state.
The rays of caloric are reflected by polished surfaces in the same way
with those of light: they are also refracted in the same way in passing
through transparent substances; and both probably proceed from the
sun with the same velocity of nearly 200,000 miles in a second. In
this supposition the particles of heat must be equally minute with
those of light; consequently neither the addition of caloric nor its
abstraction can sensibly affect the weight of bodies. The particles of
caloric agree in another property with those of light; they are never
found cohering together, and forming masses of perceptible bulk: and
whenever they are forcibly accumulated in any space or spot they are
ready to fly off in all directions, separating from each other with in-
conceivable rapidity; a property necessarily supposing in the parti-
cles of heat or caloric a strong mutual repulsion. Thus it appears
that caloric and light resemble one another in various properties. Both
are emitted from the sun with the same velocity; both are reflected
by polished surfaces, and refracted by transparent bodies; both consist
of particles mutually repulsive, and producing no sensible effect on the
weight of bodies exposed to them. In this particular however they
differ, that light produces in us the sensation of sight; while caloric
produces the sensation of heat.
2. Motion of caloric. This motion is of two kinds; through some
bodies caloric moves with the same rapidity as through free space, or
at least its velocity is not sensibly diminished by its passage: in this
way it moves through air, and several other transparent substances:
But through other bodies caloric moves extremely slowly. Thus if
we put the point of a bar of iron, 20 inches long, into a common
fire, and attach to the other end a thermometer; 4 minutes will
elapse before the thermometor begin to ascend. Caloric or heat must
therefore take 4 minutes to pass through 20 inches of an iron bar.
The difference between this motion and that of 200,000 miles in one
second through the air, is prodigious.
When caloric passes through a body with undiminished velocity, it
is said to be transmitted through it; but when its velocity is much re-
tarded in its passage, we say it is conducted; and this retardation must
be occasioned by some affinity or attraction between caloric and the
conductor. All solid bodies are conductors of caloric; particularly
earthy and stony bodies, the metals and vegetable and animal sub-
stances. This is however to be understood with certain limitations; for
all solids are not conductors in all situations in respect to the quantity
of heat. Thus sulphur, at the temperature of 60º is a conductor of
heat; but when heated to 212° (boiling water,) it melts or is volati-
lized, and ceases to be a conductor. In the same way ice conducts ca-
loric when at the temperature of 209 or at any other degree below 32º
the point of freezing: but at 32º ice changes its state, melts into water,
and then is no longer a conductor.
At first sight liquids and gaseous bodies would appear to be all also
conductors: but as the parts of fluids are easily moved among them-
"
144
CHEMISTRY.
selves caloric has on them an effect very ditterent from that produced on
solids. One change produced by caloric on bodies is expansion or in-
crease of their bulk, attended by a proportional diminution of their
specific gravity. Whenever therefore caloric combines with a stratum
of particles, the whole stratum becomes specifically lighter than the
other particles. In solids this produces no change of situation among
the particles; but in fluids, if the heated stratum of particles be below
the other cool strata, become specifically lighter it rises above them,
being thus buoyed up to the surface of the fluid. The colder strata
thus falling down come in contact with the caloric, and then in their
turn rise to the surface; until the whole fluid is heated. But if the
heat be applied above to the surface of the fluid the caloric is conducted
downwards through it in the same way as in a solid.
:
If we place the ends of a bar of iron, and a piece of stone of equal
dimensions, in the fire, the outer end of the iron will be sensibly hot
long before the outer end of the stone. Caloric is not therefore con-
ducted through all bodies with equal rapidity. The best conductors
of heat are the metals. According to experiments it would appear
that the power of different metals to conduct heat may be ranked in
this order: viz. first silver, then gold, copper and tin about equal, plati-
num, iron, steel and lead, much inferior to the others. Next to the
metals the stones are the best conductors: bricks are much worse than
stones. Glass is a bad conductor of heat; and hence it is so apt to
crack when suddenly heated or cooled. Next to these bodies come
dried woods: charcoal is a bad conductor. Feathers, silk, wool, and
hair are still worse conductors than any of the foregoing bodies, and
hence arises their fitness for articles of clothing. The heat communicat-
ed to those substances, either internally from the body of the animal, or
externally from the sun or a fire, passes very slowly through them, and
is with difficulty communicated to the cold air around. By very inge-
nious and accurate experiments on the above substances it has been
found, that their power of conducting heat is inversely as the fineness,
or directly as the coarseness of their texture. That is to say that the
finer the hair or fibres of the wool, down, &c. the more obstinately
do they retain heat, and the warmer must be the clothing made of
them.




I
;
3. Distribution of caloric or temperature. As caloric is capable of
moving through all bodies, it has a tendency to distribute itself among
all contiguous bodies, until they all acquire the same temperature. A
bar of iron may be made red-hot by keeping it in the fire: but if it be
taken from the fire, and exposed to the open air, giving out the heat
it had received, it becomes gradually colder and colder, till it arrive at
the temperature of the bodies around it. On the other hand if we
cool down the iron bar, by keeping it for some time in snow, and then
carry it into a warm room; it does not continue at the low tempera-
ture acquired from the snow, but becomes gradually hotter, until it
arrive at the temperature of the air of the room. If however the
quantity of cold bodies brought into a warm room bear a considerable
proportion to the contents of the room, the quantity of caloric distribut-
ed through the bodies at first in it, being now extended to others hav-
ing by their coldness a great capacity for caloric, the temperature of
the whole will be proportionally lowered. A similar but opposite ef-
fect will follow the introduction of a large hot body into a cold rooni.


CHEMISTRY.
145
If a number of liquors heated to different degrees of temperature, and
in equal quantities, be mixed together, the temperature of the whole
will be a mean of the different temperatures of the several equal quanti-
ties of liquids. Thus if equal quantities of six different liquids be mix-
ed together, at the respective temperatures of 18°, 32°, 40º, 50°, 60°,
and 70°, the sum of these temperatures 270° divided by 6 will give
45° for the mean temperature of the mixture.
But heat or caloric is not only conducted from one body into another
by contact; it is also radiated, or it is dispersed in all directions from a
heated body, as light spreads out in rays from the sun. This radiation
however is only a modification of conducting; for a hot body suspend-
ed in the air in the middle of a room will gradually cool. If it be sus-
pended in the exhausted receiver of an air pump, it cools more slowly,
and the more completely the air is exhausted the more slowly does the
cooling go on. Hence it appears, that the heat is abstracted from the
heated body rapidly in proportion to the density of the air, with which
it is in contact.
4. Effects of caloric. These are reducible to three changes in bodies
in respect to bulk, to state, and to combination.
1. Changes in the bulk of bodies. It is a maxim that every addition
or abstraction of caloric makes a corresponding change in the bulk of
the body exposed to this alteration in the quantity of its heat. In ge-
neral heat enlarges a body, and cold diminishes it: but to this there
are some exceptions. The enlargement of bodies by heat is termed ex-
pansion, and its opposite is contraction. Expansion is not only one of the
most general effects of heat; but it furnishes us with the means of mea-
suring all the other effects. Bodies are differently expanded by heat
according to their state. Solids expand but little; liquids much more,
and air or other gaseous bodies the most of all. For instance 100 cubic
inches of common air by being heated from the freezing to the boiling
point of water, that is from 32° to 212° expand to a space containing
137.5 cubic inches; but the same augmentation of temperature will ex-
pand 100 cubic inches of water only to 104.5 inches; and 100 inches
of iron by the same change of temperature is enlarged only about one
thousandth part of their original bulk, or to 100.1 cubic inches.
Hence it appears that water by the given increase of temperature ex-
pands 45 times more than iron; and that air expands 375 times more
than iron, and a little more than 8 times more than water,

It is to the expansibility of fluids that we owe the advantage of mea-
suring heat by the instrument called, from that property, the thermo-
meter, (See Chap. II. section 3. Pneumatics.) A glass tube closed at one
end, and blown into a hollow globe or bulb at the other, is partly
filled with mercury. When the bulb is plunged into a hot body, the
mercury by the accession of the heat expands or rises in the tube; and
when it is plunged into a cold body, the heat leaves the mercury which
then contracts or falls. In making experiments with the thermometer,
however, we are always to remember, that the rise or fall of the mer-
cury does not indicate merely the change of temperature in the body to
which it is applied. For the mercury itself expanding proportionally
more as the heat increases, a degree at a high temperature will be larger
than one at a low temperature. Thus supposing the medium tempe-
rature between freezing and boiling water, that is between 32º and
212° to be, as it is in calculation, 1229. if the scale of the thermometer
No. 7.
U
A.
+

146
CHEMISTRY.
1
be extended upwards, the boiling point will not be at 212º but at 218º 4.
On the other hand if we fix the freezing and boiling points in the
common way, marking them 32º and 212° on the thermometer, then
the medium temperature between these two points will not be, as in
calculation, 122°, but 118°. 8.
160
n
GRG
To this general effect of heat, some exceptions occur, in which ex-
pansion is produced not by an increase but by a decrease of temperature.
Some liquid bodies are at their maximum of density, or occupy the
least space, at a particular temperature; and when heated above that
point, or cooled below it, they expand or increase in bulk. Another
class of liquids, when cooled down to a certain point, suddenly be-
come solid, and in this change they expand or increase in bulk. A
remarkable instance of the first class of liquids we have in water. Its
greatest density, or the point at which it occupies the least space, is at
424 degrees of Fahrenheit's thermometer. If it be cooled below that
point it is found to expand gradually until at 32º (the freezing point) the
expansion amounts to of the whole expansion of water then heated
from 424 up to the boiling point 212º: and this expansion is equal at
any given point above or below 42°, that is to say the expansion of
water is the same at 32º as at 53°. The bodies which undergo an ex-
pansion when changing from a liquid to a solid state by the decrease of
heat are very numerous. Not only water when converted into ice un-
dergoes this expansion, but all bodies which by cooling assume the
form of crystals. The prodigious force with which water expands in
the act of freezing is well known. Glass bottles filled with water are
commonly broken in pieces when the water freezes. The academicians
of Florence burst a brass globe, the cavity of which was only an inch
in diameter, by filling it with water and freezing it. The force ex-
erted by the expansion of that small quantity of water was estimated to
be equal to that of a weight of 277 pounds. This expansion of water
at the instant of its assuming a solid form is supposed to be owing to
a tendency observed in water to arrange its particles in one determinate
manner, so as to form prismatic crystals crossing each other at angles
of 60 and 120 degrees. Prodigious indeed must be the force with
which they arrange themselves in this way, since it enables so small a
quantity of water to overcome so great a mechanical pressure. When
liquid substances are converted into solids, they either form prismatic
crystals, or a mass in which no regularity of arrangement can be perceived.
In the first case expansion accompanies solidification; but in the second
case it is accompanied by contraction. Water and all the salts are instances
of the first, and tallow and oils of the second. In these last bodies so-
lidification takes place, not instantaneously as in water and salts, but
slowly and gradually, becoming at first tough and viscous, and at last
quite solid. The same thing happens to honey and some of the metals,
as mercury, which also contracts in its solidification.

•
2. Changes in the state of bodies produced by heat. All substances
as far as hitherto known exist either in the state of solids, or of liquids,
or of elastic fluids or vapours. In a great number of cases the same
substance may be successively observed in all of these states. Thus
sulphur is usually found in a solid state; but when heated to 212º,
(the heat of boiling water,) it becomes liquid; and at a temperature
still higher, about 570º, it is converted into an elastic vapour of a deep
brown colour, Thus also water in our climate is usually a liquid;
CHEMISTRY.
147
but when cooled down to 329 it becomes solid or ice, and when heated
to 212° it boils and is converted into steam or vapour.
All solids, a very small number excepted, may be converted into
liquids, by heating them sufficiently; and on the other hand every li-
quid, spirit of wine excepted, may be converted into a solid, by expo-
sing it to a sufficient degree of cold, that is by abstracting the heat
from it. All liquids may, by heating them be converted into elastic
fluids; and many solids undergo the same change; lastly, the number
of elastic fluids which by cold are condensible into liquids or solids is
by no means inconsiderable.
When solids are changed by heat into liquids the change in some
cases takes place at once, and instantaneously, in others it takes place
very gradually. The change of water into ice is an example of the
first; the melting of glass, wax, tallow, &c. is an example of the se-
cond. In general those bodies which crystallize, or put on regular
prismatic figures, have no interval between solidity and fluidity; but
those bodies that do not crystallize have the property of appearing
progressively in all the intermediate states. Solid bodies never begin
to assume a liquid form till they are heated to a certain temperature, and
this point of temperature is constant in every particular body. This
temperature has different names, according to the usual state of each
body. When this is usually observed in a liquid state, the temperature
at which it turns to a solid is called its freezing or congealing point;
but when the body is usually solid, the temperature at which it grows
liquid is called its melting or fusing point.
It was formerly the opinion that solids were converted into liquids by
a small addition of heat, after they are once raised to the melting point,
and that they returned again to the solid state, on a very small dimi-
nution of the quantity of heat necessary to keep them at that tempera-
ture. This opinion was universally received by chemical philosophers,
until 1762 when the late celebrated Professor Black of Edinburgh, then
of Glasgow, introduced to the world a very different theory, the result
of multiplied and most sagacious experiments. His theory was this,
that when a solid is converted into a liquid, a much greater quantity of
heat enters info it than is immediately perceptible by the thermometer.
This great quantity of heat does not make the body apparently warmer :
but it is necessary for rendering it liquid. On the other hand, when a
liquid body becomes solid, a very great quantity of heat leaves it, with-
out sensibly lowering its temperature; and the state of solidity cannot
be induced without the abstraction of this great quantity of heat. Or,
in other words, when a solid is converted into a liquid, it combines with
a certain dose of caloric, without any augmentation of its temperature:
and when the liquid is again turned to a solid, the dose of caloric leaves
it, without any diminution of its temperature. Thus a combination a
of a certain dose of caloric with ice causes it to become water, and the
abstraction of a certain dose of caloric from water changes it to ice. The
caloric or principle of heat thus combined in water, or which produces
fluidity being imperceptible to the thermometer, Dr. Black called it la-
tent, or concealed heat: but later philosophers have introduced the
expression caloric of fluidity.
It hence appears, that by the combination of heat with solids they be-
come liquid; but a still more remarkable change is produced by the ap-
plication of heat to liquids; for almost all of them when raised to a
27

148
CHEMISTRY.
certain temperature assume the form of an elastic fluid, invisible like air,
and possessing the same mechanical properties. Thus water by boiling
is converted into steam, an invisible fluid eighteen hundred times more
bulky than the water which produced it, and as elastic as air. These
fluids retain their elastic form as long as their temperature remains suf-
ficiently high; but when cooled down again they lose that form, and
are converted into liquids. Some liquids are gradually changed into
elastic fluids at every degree of temperature; of this sort are water,
alcohol, ether, and volatile oils; on the other hand, some others, as
sulphuric acid and the fixed oils, never begin to assume the form
of vapour until raised to a certain temperature. When all other
circumstances are the same, the evaporation of liquids increases
with their temperature. When the heat is applied, as is common,
to the bottom of the vessel containing the liquid, after the whole
liquid has acquired a certain temperature, the particles at the bot-
tom being nearest the heat are first changed into an elastic fluid, which
being vastly lighter than the liquid itself rise through it to the surface
like air-bubbles, throwing the whole into violent agitation, and then
pass off into the atmosphere. The liquid is then said to boil. Every
particular liquid has its proper fixed boiling point; water for instance
always boiling at the temperature of 212°: and it is remarkable that,
after a liquid has begun to boil, it never becomes any hotter, however
strong the fire, and however long it may be acted on by the fire. But
the boiling point of any liquid depends on the pressure of the atmo-
sphere on its surface; if this be increased a greater heat will be necessary,
and if it be diminished a less heat will be necessary. From many ex-
periments it is found that in a perfect vacuum or vessel deprived of air
all liquids boil at about 145 degrees of Fahrenheit lower than in the
open air; therefore water would boil in a vacuum at 679, and alcohol
at 34. On the other hand in a Papin's digester, a strong vessel so
closely shut that no air can escape from it, water will bear to be heat-
ed as high as 300°, or even as 400°, without boiling.

3. Changes in the combination or composition of bodies. Caloric
not only increases the bulk of bodies and changes their state from so-
lids to liquids and elastic fluids, but it decomposes a great number of
bodies altogether, either into their elements, or by causing those
elements to combine together in a different manner. This decom-
position is, in many cases, owing to the different volatility of the in-
gredients. Thus when weak spirits or alcohol and water are heated,
the alcohol being very volatile flies off, before the water arrive at its
point of evaporation. All bodies containing combustibles are decom-
posed by heat: the metallic alloys however have hitherto in general
resisted all efforts to decompose them by heat. When two combus-
tible ingredients, and likewise oxygen occur together in bodies, they
are always very easily decomposed by heat. This is the case with
the greater number of animal and vegetable substances.
5. Quantity of Caloric. On this head three questions arise, namely,
to determine, 1. The relative quantities of caloric in bodies, or the
quantities necessary to produce a given change of temperature. This
is usually termed specific caloric. 2. The absolute quantity of caloric
existing in bodies. 3. The phenomena of cold or of the absence of
caloric.
1. If equal weights of water and mercury, at different temperatures,
CHEMISTRY.
149
be mixed together and agitated, it is natural to expect that the mix-
ture will acquire the mean temperature. Suppose the heat of the water
to be 1009, and that of the mercury 50°; it is reasonable to conclude
that the water will be cooled 25, and the mercury heated 25º, so
that the mixture will be at the temperature of 75°, being the half of
the two temperatures, 100 and 509. But upon trial the result is ex-
tremely different; for the temperature is found to be 88°: so that the
water has only given out 12°, and the mercury has gained 38º.
On the other hand if equal weights be mixed together of water at 50º
and mercury at 100°, the temperature after agitation will be only
629, so that the mercury has given out 38, and the water has gained
12º. This experiment shows that the same quantity of caloric is not
necessary to raise mercury a given number of degrees as to raise water
the same number. The caloric that raises mercury 38° raises water on-
ly 12 consequently the caloric which raises the temperature of water
1º, will raise the same weight of mercury 31°. If other substances
be tried in the same manner they will all be found to differ from each
other in the quantity of caloric which is necessary to heat each to a
given sensible temperature, or its specific caloric.
2. The absolute quantity of caloric in bodies has employed the in-
genuity of various very eminent philosophers, particularly Dr. Irvine
of Glasgow, and Mr. Dalton of Manchester. No theory has however
yet been adopted which will explain every phenomenon, in which the
absolute or real quantity of heat in any body is concerned.
3. Of cold or the absence of heat. It was before observed, that hot
and cold, in common language, are relative terms. When I lay my
cold hand on a warm iron, the caloric enters my hand until it become
as warm as the iron: I then have the sensation of heat or warmth:
but if I grasp a piece of ice in my warm hand, caloric passes from the
hand into the ice, and I have the sensation of cold. Hence we see
that what we call cold is only a relative term to signify the absence of
heat. In the beginning of the last century it was supposed by many
eminent naturalists that cold was produced, not by the abstraction of
heat, but by the addition of some positive real contrary substance.
According to them cold was a substance of the nature of salt, greatly
resembling nitre, constantly floating in the air, and wafted about by the
wind in very minute corpuscles, to which they gave the name of fri-
gorific particles, or such as produced cold. According to those philoso-
phers, the frigorific particles converted water into ice by insinuating
themselves like wedges between the particles of the water, and there-
by destroyed their mobility. But since Dr. Black's, discovery of the
true cause of the freezing of water, from the abstraction of the caloric
of fluidity, those frigorific particles have been entirely banished from
the regions of philosophy.
A very great degree of cold may be produced by mixing together
different solid bodies which suddenly become liquid. The first expe-
riments on freezing mixtures were made by Fahrenheit; but the sub-
ject was much more completely investigated by Mr. Walker, in a paper
in the Phil. Trans. for 1795; since which time other improvements
have been introduced, particularly by the use of muriate of lime, (fixed
ammoniac,) which when mixed with snow produces a very intense cold.
Equal quantities of snow or pounded ice and common salt, mixed to-
gether, will lower the temperature from 32º (the cold of ice,) to 0º or



150
CHEMISTRY.
the beginning of the scale. Three parts of muriate of lime mixed with
two parts of snow lower the temperature from 32° to 50° below the
beginning of the scale; and 2 parts of muriate of lime with 1 part of
snow, will lower the temperature from 0° to 66° below 0º.
In order to produce these curious effects the salts employed must be
fresh crystallized, and newly reduced to a very fine powder. The ves-
sels in which the mixture is made should be very thin and just large
enough to hold it, the materials being mixed together as quickly as
possible.
}
*
Cold is also produced by evaporation; and by it ice is artificially
made even in the scorching climates of India, where none is naturally
produced. The ice-makers on the banks of the Ganges dig pits in
large open plains, the bottom of which they strew with sugar canes, or
the dry stems of maiz or Indian corn. Upon this bed they place a
number of shallow unglazed pans made of an earth so porous that wa-
ter oozes through them. These pans are filled towards evening, in the
winter season, with water that has been boiled, and are left in that
situation till the morning, when more or less ice is found in them ac-
cording to the temperature of the air; there being more formed in dry
and warm weather, because the evaporation is then the greatest, than
in cloudy weather, although it may feel colder to the human body.
In this operation every thing is calculated to produce cold by evapora-
tion. The beds of canes, &c. on which the pans are placed, suffer the
air to have a free passage to their bottoms; and the pans constantly:
oozing out water to their external surface, are cooled by the evapora-
tion of it. In Spain are used a kind of jars called bujaros, made of an
earth so porous, and only half-baked, that the outside is kept moist by
the water which filters through the jars; and though placed in the sun
the water becomes cold almost to freezing. It is a common practice in
China to cool wine or other liquors by wrapping a wet cloth round the
bottle, and hanging it up in the sun. The water in the cloth evapo-
rates, and cold ensues. Ice may be produced at any time by evaporat-
ing ether; equal parts of alcohol, and sulphuric acid distilled together.
If a glass vessel containing water, and surrounded with a cloth, be dipt
two or three times into ether, allowing the ether each time to evaporate
from the cloth, the water in the glass will soon be frozen. The follow-
ing very beautiful experiment, by which water was made to freeze by
the cold produced by its own evaporation, was lately invented by. Pro-
fessor Leslie of Edinburgh. The arrangement for this operation con-
sists in placing water in a cup of porous earth, suspended within the
receiver of an air-pump, and placing a little below the cup in a broad
shallow vessel, sulphuric acid which very powerfully attracts water; so
that an extensive surface of the acid shall be presented. On extracting
the air by the pump, and consequently rarefying what remains in the
receiver, the evaporation of the water is accelerated, and of course the
degree of cold produced by the evaporation is increased. This how-
ever would soon be checked by the presence of the watery vapour in
the receiver, were it not absorbed by the sulphuric acid, almost as fast
as it is formed; by which means the rarefied air is kept constantly dry,
and the evaporation is allowed to proceed with the same rapidity.
The temperature therefore continues to fall until the water shoot in-
to crystals of ice: and even after the water is entirely congealed, the
ice continues to undergo evaporation until it wholly disappear. By
:
•
▾


CHEMISTRY.
151
pushing the rarefaction of the air to a sufficient extent Professor Leslie
was able to freeze quicksilver, and to preserve it frozen for several
hours together; the bulb of a thermometer containing it being first
coated with ice, and then suspended within the receiver, at the dis-
tance of half an inch from the surface of the sulphuric acid, and the
exhaustion carried to the utmost.
w
These powers of producing evaporation and cold might be improv-
ed to very useful purposes. If the air-pump were made more perfect,
and if a substance were employed that would attract and absorb mois-
ture more powerfully than sulphuric acid, and the operations perform-.
ed on a large scale, very important effects might be produced. Water.
might thus easily be converted into ice in the hottest climates, and ex-
siccation carried to a high pitch, as in the drying of gun-powder,
without the possibility of the dreadful consequences of the explosion
of mills now so frequent, and in drying for preservation objects of na-
tural history, from the animal or vegetable kingdoms, more speedily
than can be done at present, and without applying heat, by which the
colour and the structure of such objects are so liable to be injured.
It was before mentioned that water and other liquids, when heated
to a certain point, are converted into vapour, in which state they fly
off, carrying with them a certain portion of heat. By this process the
remaining liquid is gradually cooled down to the freezing point of the
liquid employed.
6. Sources of Caloric. These may be reduced to five. Heat radiates
constantly from the sun; it is evolved during combustion; it is in many
cases extricated from bodies by percussion, friction, and mixture.
1. The Sun. The temperature produced by the direct action of the
sun's rays seldom exceeds 120°; but a much higher temperature would
be produced by direct rays, could we prevent the heat from being car-
ried off by the surrounding bodies. This has been proved by the fol-
lowing experiment. A small box was lined with fine dry cork, charred
on the surface to make it black and spongy, in order that it might absorb
the greatest possible quantity of the sun's rays, and be as bad a conductor
of heat as possible. The box was covered with three very thin vessels
of flint-glass, a substance which transmits more caloric than any other
kind of glass, arched above, and one-third of an inch asunder. The
box was placed on down contained in a pasteboard cylinder. A ther-
mometer placed in this apparatus rose often, in a clear summer day, to
230°, and once to 237°. Even when set before a bright fire, the ther-
mometer rose to 2129, the heat of boiling water.



2. Combustion. There is perhaps no fact more wonderful in itself,
more interesting on account of its utility, or which has more closely
occupied the attention of chemists than combustion. When a stone or
a brick is heated it undergoes no sensible change excepting in its tem-
perature; and when left to itself it soon cools again and becomes as at
first. With combustible bodies on the contrary the case is very different.
When heated to a certain degree in the open air they suddenly of them-
selves become much hotter, continue for a time intensely hot, and send
out a copious stream of caloric and light to the surrounding bodies,
This emission after some time diminishes and at last ceases altogether.
The combustible has now undergone a complete change, being convert-
ed into a substance no longer combustible, and possessing properties
very different from those of the original body. Thus when charcoal is
152
CHEMISTRY.
+
<<
kept for some time at the temperature of about 800°, it kindles, be-
comes intensely hot, emitting light and heat. When this emission ceases
the charcoal has all disappeared except an inconsiderable residuum of
ashes; being almost entirely converted into carbonic acid gas which
makes its escape, unless the experiment be conducted in proper vessels.
If this gas be collected it is found to exceed greatly in weight the whole
of the charcoal consumed. According to the received theory of com-
bustion or burning, it consists of two things, first a decomposition,
and next a combination. The oxygen of the atmosphere in the state of
gas is combined with caloric arid light. During combustion this gas is
decomposed, its caloric and light escape, while its base combines with
the combustible and forms the product. This product is no longer
combustible, because its base being already saturated with oxygen it
cannot combine with more. The French chemists perceiving that in
all cases of combustion, the oxygen of the atmosphere combines with
the burning body, too hastily concluded oxydizement and combustion
to be the same thing. But this was a great mistake; for oxygen often
combines with substances, as azote, muriatic acid, and mercury, with-
out producing either light or heat: whereas the extrication of light and
heat, as well as oxydizement, must be effected, in order to produce
combustion.

3. Percussion. When a piece of iron is smartly struck with a ham-
mer, it becomes red-hot; and the production of sparks of fire by strik-
ing flint against steel is too familiar to require notice. No heat however
has ever been perceived to accompany the percussion of liquids nor of
soft bodies which easily yield to the stroke. This evolution of heat
from bodies by percussion seems to be owing to the condensation per-
manent or temporary of the body struck. For the specific gravity of
iron before hammering is 7.788; but after hammering 7.84. The par-
ticles therefore are forced nearer together, and some of the caloric must
necessarily be pressed out to the surface, where it becomes sensible in
different ways. Even air when condensed into one half its original
bulk acquires an additional temperature of 50°; and if air be rarefied
so as to fill double its original space its temperature is lowered 50º.
By sudden condensation or percussion as much caloric is evolved as to
raise the heat of some of the particles of bodies high enough to enable
them to combine with the atmospheric oxygen. That this happens in
the collision of flint and steel is certain; for the sparks produced are
found to consist merely of small pieces of the iron, heated red-hot by
uniting with oxygen, in passing through the air. Iron and flint give
no sparks in the vacuum of an air-pump; because no oxygen exists
there; but sparks are produced under common spring water.
4. Friction. Fires are often kindled by smartly rubbing pieces of
dry wood against one another. It is well known that heavy loaded
carriages will take fire by the friction between the axle-tree and the
nave of the wheel, unless some lubricating substance as grease, oil, &c.
bé introduced between the parts in contact. The native Americans
procure fire by friction with great dexterity. They take two pieces of
dry wood, one nine inches long and the other quite flat. Cutting on
the first piece a blunt point, and pressing it upon the other, they whirl
it round as swiftly as possible, holding between both hands as we do
the trundle of a chocolate-mill; and in a few minutes the wood takes
fire. The heat excited by the boring of a brass cannon, which is made
1
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CHEMISTRY.
to revolve rapidly, and press strongly on the point of the borer, is suf-
ficient to make water boil. Caloric which appears in consequence of
friction is not produced by an increase of the density of the bodies, nor
by an alteration in their specific caloric, nor by the decomposition of
the oxygen of the atmosphere. Whence then is the heat of friction de-
rived? To this question chemists and philosophers are not yet able to
give a satisfactory answer. It is not however improbable that electricity
may in some way be concerned in producing this phenomenon. Elec-
tricity is perhaps different from caloric; but it seems to contain it; and
electricity can be accumulated by friction: the heat produced by fric-
tion may therefore result from certain qualities of electricity.
5. Mixture. It is well known that, in a great number of instances,
when two substances enter into a chemical union, a change of tempera-
ture takes place. In some the mixture grows colder than before; in
others it becomes much hotter. Of the mixtures that produce cold no-
tice has already been taken: at present some observations will be given
on those mixtures which produce heat.
In almost all mixtures producing a change of temperature water is an
essential part; even in some gases water is a principal ingredient. When
salts which contain a great portion of water, such as carbonate of soda,
(soda or barilla,) sulphate of soda, (Glauber's salts) muriate of lime,
(fixed ammoniac) are dissolved in water, the temperature is considerably
lowered, the fall being proportioned to the rapidity of the solution.
But when the same salts, previously deprived of their water by expo-
sure to heat, are dissolved, the temperature of the mixture is consider-
ably raised. It may be laid down as a rule to which no exception is
known that when the compound formed by the union of two bodies is
more fluid or more dense than the mean fluidity or density of the two
bodies before mixture, then the temperature sinks, and the mixture be-
comes colder than before. On the other hand when the fluidity or the
density of the compound is less than that of the two bodies, the tem-
perature rises, and the mixture becomes hotter than the ingredients; and
the rise is very nearly in proportion to the difference. Thus when snow
and common salt are mixed together, they gradually melt and become
liquid. During the process of melting the temperature continues at
or lower than zero: but whenever the solution is completed the tem-
perature rises.
On the other hand when spirits and water are mixed
together, a condensation takes place; for the specific gravity of the
mixture is greater than the mean of the ingredients; accordingly the
mixture becomes hot: this heat is sensible to the mouth in drinking
spirits and water. When 4 parts of sulphuric acid, (oil of vitriol,)
and 1 part of water are mixed together, the density of the compound
is increased greatly beyond the mean of the two liquids; accordingly
the temperature of the mixture suddenly rises to about 3009.
From these facts we learn why cold is produced during the solution
of salts which contain an abundance of water. This water, while a
part of the salts, is in a solid state: but when dissolved it becomes
liquid. Since these salts, if they be deprived of their water, produce
heat during their solution, it cannot be doubted that the water, before
it dissolve them, first combines with them so as to form a solid, or at
least a solution of considerably greater density. Whenever water be-
comes solid, a considerable proportion of heat is evolved. Hence the
reason that a great deal of heat is produced by sprinkling water upo!!

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CHEMISTRY.

quick-lime. A portion of the water combines with the lime, forming a
dry powder totally destitute of fluidity. For the same reason heat is
produced when quick-lime is thrown into sulphuric acid. In the same
way we may account for the heat thrown out during fermentation and
putrefaction.
Fluidity is in all cases produced by the combination of caloric with
the body that becomes fluid; hence a mixture that becomes fluid must
absorb caloric, or it must produce cold. On the other hand when a
fluid body becomes solid it gives out heat which then becomes sensible.
SECOND.-Of Compound Bodies.
Compound bodies are such as consist of two or more simple sub-
stances combined together. Were all simple bodies susceptible of com-
bination, the compound bodies would amount to a prodigious number:
but this is not the case. Neither hydrogen, for instance, nor azote have
ever been combined with metals: we are besides too little acquainted
with the nature of caloric and light to be able to treat separately of the
compounds into which they enter.
Compound bodies are of two kinds. Some are formed by the com-
bination of two or more simple substances; thus phosphoric acid con-
sists of phosphorus and oxygen, and oil consists of carbon and hydro-
gen. Other compound bodies are formed by combining simples with
compounds, or compounds with compounds; thus phosphate of am-
monia consists of phosphoric acid and ammonia, and volatile liniment
consists of oil and ammonia. The combinations of simple bodies are
termed primary compounds, and those of compound bodies are se-
condary compounds.
I.-Of Primary Compounds.
These may be arranged in five classes, namely, Alkalies, Earths,
Oxydes, Acids, Compound-combustibles.

1. Alkalies. The term alkali is of Arabic origin, introduced into
chemistry in relation to the properties of the plant kali. When this
plant is burnt, the ashes washed in water, and the water evaporated
to dryness, a white substance remains which was called al-kali, signi-
fying the kali. This substance may however be obtained from other
substances besides the kali or glass-wort a marine plant; hence the term
alkali is applied to all bodies possessing the following properties, viz.
that have a caustic or burning effect on the tongue, that are volati-
lized by heat, capable of combining with acids,-soluble in water
even when combined with carbonic acid, and capable of converting
into green the blue colour of vegetables.

The alkalies at present known are these three, Potasse, Soda, and
Ammonia. The first and second are called fixed alkalies, because it
requires a strong red heat to make them evaporate; and the third is
called the volatile alkali, because it readily assumes the form of gas or
vapour, and is dissipated by a very moderate degree of heat.
1. Potasse. If a quantity of wood be burnt to ashes, and the ashes
be afterwards washed repeatedly with water, till it come off free from
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155
all taste, and if this liquid be filtrated and evaporated to dryness, the
substance remaining behind is potash, so called because it is generally
obtained from the ashes of wood burnt in kitchen or other fires. This
however is not in a state of purity: but when heated to redness many
of the impurities are dissipated; the substance becomes much whiter
than before, and is then called from its colour pearl-ash, still neverthe-
less combined with carbonic acid gas, which blunts all its properties.
But it may be obtained perfectly pure by mixing it with twice its weight
of quick-lime, and ten times its weight of pure water. The mixture is
boiled for some hours in a clean iron vessel, or allowed to remain for
two days in a close glass vessel, shaking it occasionally. Being then
filtered, and again boiled with a quantity of alcohol equal to one-third
of the pearl-ash employed, the liquid separates into two parts; the im-
purities in the bottom, and the pure potash dissolved in alcohol in the
top; by evaporation the spirit flies off, and the potash remains behind,
a fine white solid body, in perfect purity, which, to distinguish it from
the common pot-ashes of commerce, is called by a modern Latin name
potassia, and in chemical English potasse.
The progress of this preparation of potasse is very evident; the lime
attracts and unites with the carbonic acid, for which it has a strong af-
finity, and the spirit or the evaporation carries off every thing else, leav-
ing the potasse in perfect purity.
Potasse was long distinguished by the name of the vegetable alkali,
being chiefly obtained from vegetables. It was also called salt of tartar,
because it may be obtained by burning the salt called tartar. Late
chemists give it different names, as tartarine, vegalkali, kali, lixiva.
Potasse in purity is a white brittle substance, having a smell resembling
that produced by the slaking of lime: its taste is remarkably acrid;
and the substance is so exceedingly corrosive that, when applied to
the human or any other animal body, it destroys it almost instanta-
neously. On this account it is called caustic, and is used by surgeons
as a cautery, (both from the Greek word signifying to burn) to open
abscesses, and destroy hurtful excrescences. When exposed to the air
potasse attracts moisture, and liquifies, combining at the same time with
the carbonic acid, for which it has a great affinity. It has also a very
strong attraction for water, one part of which, in the ordinary state
of the atmosphere, dissolves two of potasse, forming a transparent
but very dense solution like oil; in which state it is commonly used
by chemists. Two parts of potasse, and one of sulphur melted in a
crucible form sulphuret of potasse, a brownish substance resembling
the liver of animals, and thence called liver of sulphur. Potasse
combines with none of the metals. By means of a powerful galvanic
battery the ingenious Sir Humphrey Davy, has lately decomposed pot-
asse, finding it to be composed of oxygen, and a peculiar metallic
base which he thence calls potassium.
2. Soda, or the fossil or mineral alkali, being once thought to be
peculiar to the mineral kingdom, was known to the ancients under the
names of nitron, and nitrum. It is found in large quantities, com-
bined with carbonic acid, in various countries, particularly in Egypt
where it was called natron, the same with the natar of the Hebrew
Scriptures. Our common sea salt is a compound of soda and muriatic
acid. But the soda of commerce is obtained from the ashes of dif-
ferent species of the salsola or glass-wort, plants that grow on the sea
.


156
CHEMISTRY.
shore. The soda of commerce is also called barilla, because those
plants are so called in Spain. The greater number of sea-plants
growing upon our own rocky shores called by us kelp, and in France
varec, also yield soda when burnt.
The soda of commerce is never free from carbonic acid, common
salt, and other matters: but it is purified by the same process as pot-
asse. Soda is of a greyish white colour, and agrees with potasse in
taste, smell, and action upon animal substances: but it is specifically
lighter. When exposed to the air it attracts moisture and carbonic
acid, but does not liquify like potasse: in a few days it dries again
and crumbles down into powder. Sir H. Davy found it consist of
carbonic acid, and a peculiar metallic base which he called sodium.
Soda and potasse are of great importance in human life. To them
we are indebted for two articles of indispensable necessity, namely
soap and glass. A compound of oil, whether animal or vegetable,
with soda forms hard soap, and with potasse soft soap. Soda or pot-
asse with flint or siliceous earth, forms glass.
3. Ammonia. This alkali may be obtained in this way. Put into a
retort a mixture of three parts of quick-lime, and one-part of sal am-
inoniac in powder: plunge the beak of the retort below the mouth of
a glass jar filled with mercury, and standing inverted in a bason of
mercury. Apply the heat of a lamp to the retort, when a gas
will
come over, displace the mercury, and fill the jar: this gas is ammonia,
so called because the salt from which it was procured was found
abundantly near the renowned temple of Jupiter Ammon, or Hammon,
in the deserts of Libya on the west of Egypt.
Ammonia is known by various names, such as the volatile alkali, be-
cause of its great volatility; hartshorn, as being often obtained by dis-
tilling deers-horns; spirit of urine, as it may be drawn from that sub-
stance. In the state of gas it is colourless and transparent: the taste
is acrid and caustic; but it does not corrode animal bodies: its smell
is remarkably pungent and powerful as a stimulant to prevent faint-
ing: it may be perceived abundantly in stables and cow-houses. No
animal can breathe it without certain death. When made to pass
through a red-hot tube of glass or porcelane, it is totally decomposed,
and converted into hydrogen and azotic gas. It combines readily
with water. When a bit of ice is brought into a vessel filled with
this gas
it melts and absorbs the ammonia; but its temperature is not
altered. Water absorbs more than one-third of its weight of ammoniac
gas: and in this state it is used by chemists under the simple name of
ammonia. With muriatic acid it combines rapidly, forming common
sal ammoniac. Ammonia combines also readily with the oxydes of
gold and silver, forming compounds formerly called fulminating or
thundering gold and silver, because when heated or rubbed they ex-
plode with great violence and a loud report.
2. EARTHS. In common language the term earth has two meanings:
sometimes it signifies the globe or planet on which we live, and some-
times the mould or soil on which vegetables grow. This mould having
been chemically examined it is found to contain a variety of substances
mixed together without order or regularity. The greatest portion of it,
however, as well as of the stones which apparently form so great a part
of our globe, consists of but a small number of bodies, possessing a
variety of common properties; and these bodies chemists class together

CHEMISTRY.
157
1.
under the denomination of earths: Every body possessing the following
properties is an earth. 1. They are insoluble in water, or nearly so,
or at least becoming insoluble when combined with carbonic acid. 2.
Little or no smell, at least when combined with that acid. 3. Fixed,
incombustible, incapable while pure of being altered by fire. 4. A
specific gravity not exceeding 4.9, much lighter than any of the metals.
5. When pure capable of forming a white powder. 6. Not altered
when heated with combustibles.
The earths at present known are the following: 1. Barytes, 2. Stron-
tian, 3. Lime, 4. Magnesia, 5. Alumina, 6. Yttria, 7. Glucina, 8. Zir-
conia, 9. Silica. To every one of these earths the above characters
may not be all strictly applicable: but all of them possess a number of
them sufficient to ascertain them to be earths.
1. Barytes. This mineral so called from its great weight, from the
Greek barys, heavy, was discovered by Scheele in 1774. It is generally
of a flesh colour of a foliated texture and brittle: it is common in Bri-
tain, especially in copper mines, and called ponderous spar. In a mi-
neral state it is united with sulphur. It has a harsh taste more caustic
than lime, and when taken into the stomach proves a most violent
poison.
2. Strontian. About the year 1787, a mineral was carried to Edin-
burgh by a dealer in fossils, from the lead-mine at Strontian, (thus
written, but pronounced Stronteean,) in Argyleshire in Scotland. It is
sometimes transparent and colourless, but has generally a tinge of yel-
low or green. It is now known to exist in many parts of the world.
When purified from carbonic acid or fixed air, by exposure to strong heat
along with charcoal, strontian forms a porous mass of a greyish white:
its taste is acrid and alkaline; and it converts vegetable blues to green.
it is not poisonous : it does not melt when heated, but before the blow-
pipe it is penetrated with light, and surrounded with a flame so white
and brilliant, that the eye can scarcely behold it.
3. Lime has been known from the earliest ages.
The ancients em-
ployed it in medicine: it was the principal ingredient in their mortar
for building, and they used it to manure their fields. Lime is found in
all parts of the world, in various states: in lime-stone, marble and chalk
it is found in its greatest purity; although none of these substances can
be properly called lime; but they may all be converted into it by heat,
or what is called the burning of lime. The product of this operation,
commonly called quick-lime, is what the chemist properly calls lime.
Lime may be procured perfectly pure by burning those chrystallized
limestones called calcareous spars, when perfectly white and transpa-
rent, and also by burning some pure white marbles. Pure lime is
of a white colour, moderately hard, but easily reduced to powder. It
has a hot burning taste, and in some measure corrodes animal sub-
stances. It tinges blue colours green, and at last turns them yellow.
It cannot be fused by the most violent heat of a furnace, nor even by
the most powerful burning glass.
Slaking of lime. If water be poured on newly burnt lime-stone, it
swells, cracks, and falls to pieces, being soon reduced to a very fine
powder. In the mean time so much heat is produced, that part of the
water is carried off in vapour. If the quantity of lime slaked (as it is
called,) be considerable, the heat produced is sufficient to set fire to
combustibles. By this effect ships and barges employed in carrying

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CHEMISTRY.
burnt lime have, by accidentally admitting the sea or fresh water, been
set on fire, and destroyed or sunk. When great quantities of lime are
slaked in the dark, light as well as heat may be observed.
Lime is heavier after slaking than before. The additional weight is
owing to the combination of a part of the water with the lime; and
the water may be again separated by the application of a red-heat, and
the lime becomes just what it was before claking. Hence arises the
heat thrown out during the slaking. Part of the water combines
with the lime and becomes solid; of course it parts with its caloric
of fluidity or latent heat, besides the caloric which exists in water,
even in the state of ice: for when two parts of lime, and one part
of ice, (each at 32° the freezing point of water,) are mixed together,
they rapidly combine, and the temperature of the mixture rises to
212° the boiling point of water.
Limestone and chalk, although convertible into lime by burning,
yet possess very little of the active properties of lime.
Here arises
the question, to what are owing the new properties of the lime? It
had been long known that limestone loses a good deal of weight by
being burned or calcined. Something must therefore be separated
from it in that operation. Some chemists supposed this something to
be water: but Dr. Black first ascertained in 1756, that the quantity
of water separated from lime-stone in burning was not equal to the
weight lost. Applying therefore a pneumatic apparatus to receive
what proceeded from the calcination, he collected a quantity of air
which when added to the water thrown off, was just equal to the
weight lost by the lime-stone. This air existing in a fixed state in the
stone he therefore denominated fixed air. Dr. Black's discoveries be-
ing repeated by Dr. Priestley and other chemists, this air was found to
possess peculiar properties, and to be in fact what is now called carbo-
nic acid gas, which consists of 28 parts of charcoal and 72 of oxygen.
Hence we find lime proper to be a simple substance, and lime-stone to
be composed of lime and carbonic acid, which is driven off in burn-
ing, leaving the pure lime behind. When this lime is exposed to the
air, it attracts moisture from it and falls to powder; after which it is
again soon saturated with carbonic acid, and is again converted into
carbonate of lime, or to its original state of unburnt lime-stone.
Water at the common temperature of the air dissolves about one 500th
part of its weight of lime: this solution is called lime-water, occasionally
used in medicine. When this solution is exposed to the air, a stony
crust is formed on its surface: when this is broken it falls to the bottoni
and another crust succeeds to it on the surface. In this manner the
whole of the lime in the water is thrown down, by absorbing the car-
bonic acid from the air, and so restored to its original state of carbonate
of lime or lime-stone.
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✔


Sulphur and phosphorus are the only simple combustibles with which
lime combines. With the muriatic acid lime forms the muriate of lime
or fixed ammonia; with the sulphuric acid it forms the sulphate of lime
otherwise called gypsum, and commonly plaster of Paris, because it is
dug out abundantly from the hill called Mont Martre, rising close on the
north side of Paris, which it completely commands. A spot to be ever
memorable in the history of our country: for of the heights of Mont
Martre, possession was taken, on the 6th of July 1815, by the British
army under the illustrious Wellington, in consequence of the surrender
CHEMISTRY.
159
• by capitulation of the great capital of the French Empire, to the united,
though comparatively small forces of Britain and Prussia. This sul-
phate of lime or gypsum, absorbs water very rapidly, and renders it
solid, at the same time that a slight increase of heat takes place; so that
if formed into a paste it dries and grows solid very suddenly, becom-
ing thereby extremely useful for making casts of statues, bas-reliefs,
cornices, and other ornamental figures, which are not to be exposed to
the weather. With the fluoric acid lime forms the beautiful sub-
stance called Derbyshire Spar, or fluate of lime, employed in forming
various ornamental figures for side-tables, chimney-pieces, &c.
Mortar. One of the most important uses of lime is the formation
of mortar as a cement for building. Mortar is composed of burnt or
quick-lime and sand, reduced to a paste with water. When dry it
becomes as hard as stone, and equally durable; adhering very strongly
to the surfaces of the stones or bricks employed in the work; the
whole wall becomes in fact one strong solid stony mass. This desirable
effect is however very imperfectly obtained, unless the mortar be very
skilfully and carefully prepared.
The lime ought to be pure, completely free from carbonic acid, and
in the state of a very fine powder; the sand should be free from clay,
partly very fine, and partly course like gravel. If sea sand must ne-
cessarily be used, it ought to be well washed in fresh water, to carry
off any particles of salt adhering to it, which will retain and attract
moisture, and prevent the consolidation of the mortar. The water em-
ployed in the mortar should be quite pure, and if previously saturated
with lime so much the better. The best proportions, according to
accurate experiments, for making mortar are, three parts of fine sand,
four parts of course sand, one part of quick-lime fresh slacked, and as
little water as possible. The stony consistence which mortar acquires
is owing partly to the absorption of carbonic acid from the air, by
which pure lime is converted again into lime-stone; but principally to
the combination of part of the water with the lime. This last cir-
cumstance is the reason that, if to common mortar be added one-
fourth part of lime reduced to powder, without being slaked, the
mortar when dry acquires much greater solidity than it would other-
wise do. The proportion of ingredients which answers best in this
case is of fine sand and cement of well baked bricks, each three parts ;
and of slaked lime and unslaked lime each two parts. It is also of
great service to use as little water as possible in slaking the lime.
It has also been discovered that an addition of burnt bones improves
mortar by giving it tenacity, and rendering it less apt to crack in dry-
ing the bones however should never exceed one-fourth of the lime
employed. When a little manganese is added to mortar it acquires
the important property of hardening under water. An excellent water-
mortar may be made by mixing 4 parts of blue clay, 6 parts of black
oxide of manganese, and 90 parts of lime-stone, all in powder; calcine
this mixture to expel the carbonic acid, mix it with 60 parts of sand,
and form it into mortar with a sufficient quantity of water.
best mortar however for resisting water is made by mixing with lime
a quantity of puzzuolano, a volcanic sand so called because it is found
in abundance at Puzzuoli, the ancient Puteoli at the entrance of the
bay of Naples in Italy. Basalt a greyish black stone very common
in our mountains, of many of which it forms the base, and often as-
:
The
.

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CHEMISTRY.
suming a regular prismatic shape, as in the Giants' Causey in the north
of Ireland, and in the island of Staffa and others on the west of
Scotland, may be substituted for puzzuolano. The stone is heated in a
furnace, thrown while red-hot into water, where it breaks into small
pieces, and then passed through a sieve to reduce it to a proper
fineness.

In many ancient buildings, still existing in Britain as well as on the
continent, constructed by the Romans eighteen centuries ago, we see
the effect of the great care employed by that extraordinary people in
constructing walls. Their practice was to form the facings of the wall
with small but regular cut stones, supported on each side by wooden
frames, then to fill up the space between the facings with small rubble
stones, amongst which was poured while hot a fine liquid cement of
lime, fine gravel, and water beaten up to a perfect degree of incorpora-
tion. By this operation the whole wall was wrought into one solid
mass of rock, harder and much more durable than any of the ingredi-
ents taken separately. We may conceive how this careful beating to-
gether of the materials produced a cement so powerful, since the dis-
covery of puddling as it is called, by which earth or clay, fine gravel
and water beaten up together, will form the bottom and lining of a can-
al or a pond, wholly impervious to water. It was therefore much more
to the care and labour employed in incorporating the materials, than to
the nature of the materials themselves, that the excellent qualities of
the ancient cement or mortar must be attributed. Very different in-
deed seem to be the notions of our modern builders, especially about
London, who looking on the formation of their mortar as a matter be-
neath their concern, intrust its manufacture to the lowest and the most
ignorant of the common labourers in their employ.
4. Magnesia. About a century ago a priest at Rome produced for
sale a white powder, as a remedy for all diseases; this he called mag-
nesia alba, or white magnesia, keeping the preparation of it a profound
secret. The nature and origin of the substance was however at last
discovered by chemical researches. Magnesia has never yet been found
in a native state; but it may be procured in this way. Sulphate of
magnesia, a salt composed of this earth and sulphuric acid, exists in the
water of the sea, and in many springs, particularly in some at Epsom
in Surrey, fourteen miles south-west from London, from which circum-
stance it was formerly called Epsom salt. This salt is dissolved in water,
and half its weight of potasse is added. The magnesia is immediately
precipitated, because sulphuric acid has a stronger affinity with potasse
than with magnesia. It is then washed in water and dried.
Magnesia is used only in medicine, being administered internally to
remove acidity in the stomach. It is certainly foreign to the pur-
pose of these pages to enter into the medicinal properties of the sub-
stances passed in review; the very general use of magnesia, and its ac-
knowledged utility in medical practice will however justify our taking
some notice of its properties and value in this respect. The following
observations are extracted from a periodical work of the highest repu-
tation the Edinburgh Review. In the quarterly number for February
1815 is an examination of Mr. Brande's dissertation on the effects of
magnesia, on relieving the exquisitely excruciating torment produced
by calculi or concretions in the bladder. The reviewers observe that
medical men are much divided as to the harmlessness of magnesia,

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i
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CHEMISTRY.
1
when there is no acid in the stomach on which it may operate. Some
hold that where there is a disposition to gout, or to calculous com-
plaints, as well as where there is merely a tendency in the stomach
to form acids, a portion of the magnesia may be taken regularly
every day, especially at night ;---that if it meet with any acid it neu-
tralizes it, and carries it off by a slightly purgative effect ;---and that
if it meet with no acid to work upon, it lies inactive, and passes off
through the alimentary canal. But the question here is, Does the mag-
nesia in this case really so pass off harmless? It is possible that in-
jury may be done by the lingering of the earth in the stomach and
intestines, when no purgative effect is produced. It is possible that the
magnesia may form the beginning of a calculous accretion or stone, or
augment those already begun. Besides there is much good sense in
the rule of taking medicine of every kind, however harmless, only when it
is wanted. It can very rarely happen that the stomach should be ac-
tively forming acid, without some symptom in the shape of heart-burn,
&c; and it may be early enough to take magnesia or other fit alkaline
earth, when the acid begins to be felt. The magnesia should be free,
not only from gross impurities, but from carbonic acid or fixed air, in
order to avoid the production of flatulency, and to facilitate its union
with the acid in the stomach. In every point of view therefore calcined
magnesia, (and consequently by calcination entirely deprived of carbo-
nic acid,) has a prodigious advantage over the common preparation; for
it will neutralize the acid in the stomach much more readily and in
greater quantity; of course therefore a smaller dose of the calcined than
of the common magnesia will suffice; an advantage of inestimable value
in the use of every medicine. Of the various sorts of calcined magnesia,
that prepared by Mr. Henry of Manchester is deservedly celebrated for
its singular purity and efficacy.
-


5. Alumina. Alum is a salt which was well known to the ancients,
and employed by them in dyeing; but of its component parts they were
ignorant. Later chemists have discovered alum to consist of sulphuric
acid, and an earth of a peculiar nature; an earth which is an essential
ingredient in clays, and to which they owe their peculiar properties.
For this reason this earth was called argil, from the Latin name for
clay. It is now however called alumina, because it is obtained in the
greatest purity from alum.
་
Alumina is obtained in this way: dissolve alum in water, and add to
the solution ammonia as long as any precipitate is formed, Decant off
the fluid part, and wash the sediment in a large quantity of water, and
then allow it to dry. This substance is alumina, but still retaining a
portion of sulphuric acid, which may be separated by means of the mu-
riatic acid.
•
When heat is applied to alumina it, loses weight, from the evaporation
of a quantity of water with which is always combined, and at the
same time its bulk is considerably diminished. This diminution of
bulk is proportionate to the degree of heat to which it is exposed. This
contraction in low temperatures seems owing to the loss of moisture;
but in high temperatures, after the separation of the moisture, its con-
traction must be produced by the more intimate union of the particles
among themselves; for it loses no perceptible weight in any temperature,
however high, after being exposed to a heat of 130° of Wedgewood's
scale, or the melting point of pig iron. Of this property of clay ad-
Y
162
CHEMISTRY.
vantage was taken by the late ingenious Mr. Wedgewood, celebrated for
his great improvements in stone-ware, to construct an instrument for
measuring high degrees of heat. Two pieces of brass are united so as
to form an angle, each leg being divided into equal parts. Pieces of
baked clay are prepared so as exactly to fill the opening between any
two given points on the legs. But if a piece be exposed to heat it will
decrease in size in proportion to the intensity of the heat, and conse-
quently fill up spaces still smaller between the legs, and the degree at
which it stops will indicate the degree of heat. This pyrometer (fire-
measurer,) is extremely useful for measuring relative degrees of heat for
particular purposes; but sufficient experience has not yet been obtained,
to establish its utility in the general measure of the temperature of
bodies.
The affinity of alumina for water is considerable, and it retains it
more obstinately than any other earth: hence the reason why water
does not penetrate through clay. In a freezing cold it contracts more,
and parts with more water than the other earths; circumstances of im-
portance in the practice of agriculture.
Alumina has no affinity for the metals; but it combines strongly
with their oxydes, particularly when the oxygen is in a great quantity,
Thus the combination of alumina with the red oxyde of iron often
occurs in the form of a yellow powder adhering to stones and other
bodies, and known by the name of ochre.
Our common clay is a mixture of alumina, and silica or flint in vari-
ous proportions. The alumina is in the state of an impalpable powder;
but the silica is almost always in grains large enough to be discerned
by the eye.
None of the earths is of more importance to mankind than alumina.
It is the base of china or porcelane and stone-ware of all sorts, and of
the pots and crucibles employed in manufactures which require a strong
heat. It is also the principal ingredient in bricks and tyles, and is em-
ployed to the greatest advantage by the dyer and the callico-printer,
by the fuller and cleaner of cloth. Fuller's earth is a combination of
two parts of silica with one of alumina and small quantities of lime,
iron, and magnesia.
•
6. Yttria, 7. Glucina, 8. Zirconia. Of these earths, of which the
first and second have been discovered in the north of Europe, and the
third in Ceylon in India, the properties and uses are hitherto too little
known, to entitle them to much attention in this place.


9. Silica. In all parts of the world is very commonly found a very
hard white stone called quartz. Sometimes it is found crystallized and
transparent, in which state it is called rock-crystal. It is also frequently
found in the form of sand. Quartz and several other stones resembling
it, such as flint, agate, chalcedony, &c. have the property of melting in-
to a glass when heated along with fixed alkali (potasse or soda); they
have therefore been classed together by mineralogists as vitrifiable stones.
Silica may be obtained pure by the following process. Mix together
in a crucible one part of pounded flint or quartz, and three parts of
potasse, applying a heat sufficient completely to melt the mixture.
Dissolve the mass formed in water, pour on it muriatic acid to satu-
ration, and then evaporate to dryness. The remaining mass washed
in a large quantity of water and dried is pure silica, a fine white powder
without taste or smell.

CHEMISTRY.
163
Crystallized silica or rock-crystal, is found in many parts of the
world. These beautiful natural productions are met with, of a very
large size, in the crevices of the rocky precipices of the Alps and
other mountains; and the occupation of a crystal-hunter is one of the
most dangerous that can well be conceived. Rock-crystals when pure
are transparent and colourless like the finest glass. They assume dif-
ferent forms; generally hexagonal prisms, terminated at both ends by
hexagonal pyramids. Their hardness is very great. Rock-crystals
may be imitated in different ways by dissolving silica in fluoric acid
and crystallizing the solution. Some of these artificial crystals are
so hard as to strike fire with steel.


Silica is one of the most important of the earths; it is the chief
ingredient in those stones which constitute the basis of this terrestrial
globe. It is found in greatest proportion in common flint, which ge-
nerally consists of 97 or 98 parts of silica, with 2 or 3 parts of lime,
alumina and water. Flints are found in great abundance in various
parts of England, particularly where chalk appears. The surface of the
ground in the north of Hampshire is covered with flints; and in the
face of the cliffs on both sides of the British Channel at Dover and near
Calais they are seen lying in regular beds, separated by thick strata of
pure chalk. The manufacture of gun flints, of the highest importance
in modern warfare, is chiefly confined to England and France. The
operation is exceedingly simple, and an expert workman will prepare a
thousand flints in a day. The art consists in striking the stone repeat-
edly with a mallet, bringing off at each stroke a splinter, sharp at one
end, and thick at the other. These splinters are afterwards shapen at
pleasure, by laying the line at which it is wished they should break on a
sharp instrument, and giving it small blows with the mallet. During
the whole operation the workman holds the stone in his hand, or merely
supports it on his knee.

3. OXYDES. Of all the simple substances the most remarkable is
oxygen, the cause or the principle of acidity, as the term signifies in the
Greek. It combines with bodies usually in various proportions, form-
ing compounds of various sorts according to these proportions. These
compounds are of two classes, those possessing the properties of acids,
and those destitute of such properties. Those of the first class are cal-
led acids, and those of the second oxydes. By oxyde then is meant a
substance compounded of oxygen and some other body, but which is
destitute of the peculiar properties of acids. In all cases the smaller
proportion of oxygen forms the oxyde, and the greater proportion forms
the acid.
Water. It was formerly mentioned that one of the simple combusti-
ble substances is hydrogen, that is the cause, principle, or basis of water;
and that when it is combined with oxygen, water is produced. Hydro-
gen differs from all other combustible bodies in being combinable with
only one dose of oxygen, and forming with it a compound entirely des-
titute of acid properties, which therefore must be ranked among the
oxydes. This compound is water, a substance found in greater or less
abundance in all quarters of the globe, without which neither animal
nor vegetable life can be sustained. When pure, (in which state it can
be obtained by distillation alone,) water is transparent, destitute of co-
lour taste or smell.
As water from the ease with which it may be procured in a state of
164
CHEMISTRY.
purity, has been chosen for the standard by which the comparative
weight of all other bodies may be estimated, it is of the greatest im-
portance to ascertain its own real weight with precision. The density
of water is the greatest, (that is a given weight if it occupies the least
space) at the temperature of 424 of Fahrenheit: other experiments
place the maximum of density 2 or 3 degrees lower; but the fact is, the
apparent density depends not only on the expansion or contraction of
the water itself, but on those of the substances in which the water is
contained during the experiments. According to a series of most accu-
rate observations and measurements made at Paris, when the new sys-
tem of weights and measures was under consideration, a cubic foot
French, at the temperature of 40° of distilled water, weighed 70 pounds
and 223 grains French, equal to 529452.95 grains of our troy weight.
An English cubic foot of distilled water, at the same temperature,
should weigh 437102.495 grains troy, or 999.0914 ounces avoirdupois.
A cubic English foot of water, at the temperature of 55°, weighed, ac-
cording to the experiments of Professor Robison of Edinburgh, 998.74
avoirdupois ounces, or only 1.26 ounces less than 1000 ounces; so that
rain water which is always less pure than distilled water may, at 55°,
be conceived to weigh pretty exactly 1000 ounces avoirdupois. Hence
the specific gravity of water is always supposed to be 1. or the integer
by which other gravities are computed. [See a table of specific gravi-
ties of several solids and fluids in Section 2. of Chap. II. on Hydrostatics.]
But agreeably to later experiments made by Sir George Shuckburgh, with
the nicest instruments, the weight of a cubic inch English of distilled
water, at the temperature of 62, which is the regulated standard for
our measures, weighs 252.52 grains, and the cubic foot 997.4 ounces.
Hence 4 cubic inches will weigh 1010 grains, and 12 wine gallons are
exactly 100 pounds avoirdupois.

When water is cooled down to 32° it becomes solid, or is converted
into ice. If the process go on very slowly, the ice assumes the form of
crystalline needles, which cross each other at angles of 60° and 120° :
these crystals have often been observed of a considerable size. While
belów 32°, ice may be pounded to a very fine powder: it is elastic, and
is specifically lighter than water. This, as was before observed, is owing
to the expansion of the water, by the tendency of its particles to arrange
themselves in one determinate manner, in the act of freezing or crystal-
lization. The specific gravity of ice is about 92 hundredth parts of that
of distilled water.

When water is heated to 212º in the open air, it boils and is gradu-
ally converted into steam, a fluid invisible like air, and occupying 1800
times the space of an equal weight of water. The steam issuing from
the spout of a boiling tea-kettle is invisible for a small distance: but
soon coming into contact with the external air, which even close to the
fire is cooler than 212°, the steam is partly condensed into vapour, and
then becomes visible. The elasticity or expanding power of steam is
prodigious: this is evident from the operation of the steam-engine.
Water was considered by the ancients to be one of the four simple
unchargeable elements of which all bodies are composed. By distilling
water in glass vessels over a slow fire a small quantity of earth was ob-
tained; whence it was concluded that it either contained, or was con-
verted into earth. This opinion prevailed down to 1773, when Lavoisier
discovered that the glass vessels employed in the distillation lost in
CHEMISTRY.
165
weight exactly the weight of the earth produced. Hence it was evident
that the earth which was flint proceeded from the decomposition of the
glass, by the water when long acting on it, at a high temperature.
When six parts of oxygen gas and one part of hydrogen gas are set
on fire or exploded in a vessel, they almost wholly disappear, and in
their place is found a quantity of water, perfectly pure and free from
acidity, and as nearly equal to them in weight as can be expected in
experiments of so delicate a nature. The discovery of this very curious
fact, that water is only a compound of two sorts of gas, was reserved for
our two very ingenious countrymen Mr. Cavendish and Mr. Watt the
great improver of the steam-engine, who both in 1781 were led by their
experiments to the same important fact, each being entirely ignorant of
the other's process and discovery.
Sea-water. The ocean is the great reservoir into which lakes and
rivers empty themselves, and from which is again drawn up by evapo-
ration that moisture which, falling in showers of rain, fertilizes the earth
and supplies the waste of the springs and rivers. From this reciprocal
operation the waters of the sea and those of the land might be supposed
to be of the same nature; they differ however materially in taste, weight,
and other properties. The sea water contains a much greater propor-
tion of saline matters than river water, particularly of common salt.
Indeed if the sea were not impregnated with saline bodies, the putre-
faction of the immense mass of animal and vegetable matters which it
contains would, in a short time, prove fatal to the whole inhabitants of
the earth.

The absolute quantity of sea water cannot be ascertained, as its mean
depth is unknown. La Place has shown that a depth of ten miles at
least would be necessary to reconcile the height, to which the tides are
known to rise in the main ocean to the Newtonian theory of the tides.
Sea water has a very disagreeable taste when taken up near the shore,
or from the surface: but when taken up from a great depth, and away
from the land, it tastes of salt only. This disagreeable taste therefore is
owing to the animal and vegetable substances with which it is mixed on
the surface. The specific gravity of sea-water varies from 1.0269 to
1.0285. It does not freeze till cooled down to 2810. Sea water holds
in solution muriate of soda, (common salt,) muriate of magnesia, sulphate
of magnesia, (Epsom salt,) and sulphate of lime, (gypsum): besides
animal and vegetable substances. The average quantity of all the saline
substances in the sea is about 4th part. The real quantity however is
very different in different parts. Water from a depth of 60 fathoms
near the Canary islands contained part, at the back of Yarmouth
sands part, and in the Firth of Forth in Scotland part of its weight
of salt. The Baltic contains much less salt than the ocean: the Euxine
and the Caspian seas contain also much less salt: but the Dead sea, or
the lake now covering the sites of Sodom, Gomorrah, &c. is exceeding-
ly salt. The water of this lake is very heavy, its specific gravity being
1.25 nearly, and it contains 44 parts of saline matter in every 100 parts
of water, in this proportion, 55.6 of water, 38.15 of muriate of lime
and magnesia, and 6.25 of common salt. The water of the Dead sea
ought therefore to be considered rather as a mineral than as sea water,
2
Mineral-waters. All waters upon the land, which are distinguished
from common water by a peculiar smell, taste, colour, or other proper-
ties, and which therefore cannot be employed in domestic uses, are com-
166
CHEMISTRY.
1
monly called mineral waters. These occur more or less frequently in
most countries in the form of springs, wells, and fountains; sometimes
of the temperature of the soil they pass through, sometimes warm, and
in some cases even at the heat of boiling water. The effects of inineral
waters in the cure of diseases, applied internally and externally, were
known in the earliest times; but it was only towards the end of the 17th
century that attempts were properly made to decompose them, and to
discover their ingredients. The Hon. Robert Boyle, who died in 1691,
may be considered as the first person who pointed out the method of
analysing or examining water. The substances hitherto found in mi-
neral waters are air and its component parts, acids, alkalies and earths,
and salts: but in none are all these found together. Waters are divid-
ed into four classes, receiving their denomination from the peculiar sub-
stance predominating in their composition, namely the acidulous, the
chalybeate, the hepatic, and the saline.
1. Acidulous waters contain a considerable proportion of carbonic acid
(fixed air); and are easily distinguished by their acid taste, and by their
sparkling when poured into a glass, like Champaign wine or brisk bottled
beer. They contain in general some common salt, with a proportion of
the earthy carbonates. Water absorbs carbonic acid by remaining in
contact with it, and agitating them together from time to time. If a
quantity of chalk, (a compound of lime and carbonic acid) be diluted
with water, and sulphuric acid be poured upon it, effervescence takes
place, carbonic acid gas is evolved and received in a proper vessel, there
to be combined with water. In this manner the alkaline aerated water
prepared as a medicine is obtained.
-
It has lately become a fashion in this country to drink soda-water, on
account of its briskness or carbonic acid or fixed air contained in it. In
cases however where no acid exists in the stomach, requiring the alkali
of the soda to neutralize it, more harm than good has been done by
this practice. Where no acid exists in the stomach, and a person desires
only a brisk spirited and slightly stimulant beverage, simply aerated
water will be found much more salutary. It is however a very import-
ant, and may become a very useful fact, that, in some parts of the coun-
try, especially where manufacturing labour has given rise to habits of
indigestion and heartburn, the use of soda water among the labouring
classes has actually produced the salutary effect of diminishing, to a
great degree, the baneful use of spiritous liquors.
2. Chalybeate waters contain a portion of iron, from which they de-
rive their name; for chalybeate in Greek signifies what consists of iron
or steel. They are therefore easily known by their striking a black
colour with the tincture of nutgalls, which with copperas (the green
sulphate of iron) forms writing ink. The iron is generally held in so-
lution by carbonic acid; and when this is in excess the waters are not
only chalybeate but acidulous. Of this sort are the famous waters of
Spa and Pyrmont in the Netherlands.
3. Hepatic or sulphureous waters contain sulphurated hydrogen gas,
and may be easily distinguished by their highly fetid odour, precisely
similar to that of rotten eggs, or the washings of gun barrels, both of
which substances contain sulphurous gas; they also blacken silver and
lead. In some cases the sulphureted hydrogen is combined with lime
or an alkali. Of this kind are the waters of Harrowgate in Yorkshire.
4. Saline waters contain only salts, without iron or carbonic acid in
+


CHEMISTRY.
167
excess; and are divided into four classes, viz. those containing salts of
which the basis is lime, having a taste but slightly disagreeable. They
are commonly called hard waters, but very improperly, because they
do not dissolve soap. When hard or saline water is mixed with com-
mon soap, (a compound of an alkali and an oil) the alkali of the soap
unites with the acid of the salt in the water, while the earth of the salt
unites with the oil of the soap, forming a compound that is insoluble
in
The
water: hence hard or saline waters are unfit for washing.
pure
second class of saline waters are those in which common salt predomi-
nates, and are easily known by their salt taste: like sea water they usu-
ally contain magnesian and calcareous salts. The waters of the third
class contain sulphat of magnesia, having a bitter taste and a purgative
quality, such as the waters of the Epsom springs. The fourth class of
saline waters contain carbonate of soda, and are easily known by their
turning to green the blue colour of vegetables.
Bergman, Kirwan, and various other chemists of the first rank have
written on mineral waters; but the most accurate and complete ac-
count of the properties and constituents of the most celebrated mineral
springs, both British and foreign, will be found in Dr. Saunders's
"Treatise on the chemical history and medical powers of the most
❝ celebrated mineral waters," from which the following notices of a few
well-known springs abroad and at home are extracted.
Of the springs in Lower Germany, those at Aix-la-chapelle, in 8940
parts of water contain 13.06 parts of sulphureted hydrogen gas, 15.25
of carbonate of soda, 6. of carbonate of lime, and 6.21 of muriate of
soda. The springs of Seltzer in 8949 parts of water contain .435 of
oxygen, 13 of carbonic acid, 78.3 of carbonate of lime, and 13.74 of
muriate of soda. Spa waters in 8933 parts contain 9.8 of carbonic
acid, 1.85 of carbonate of soda, and an equal quantity of carbonate of
lime.
Of British springs those at Bristol, in 10364 parts contain 3 parts of
oxygen, 30 of carbonic acid, 13.5 of carbonate of lime, 7.25 of muriate
of magnesia, and 11.5 each of the sulphates of soda and lime. The
Cheltenham waters, in the same quantity of water, contain 30.37 parts
of carbonic acid, 15 of azotic gas, 5 of iron, 25.of muriate of mag-
nesia, 480 of sulphate of soda, and 40 of sulphate of lime. Harrow-
gate waters, in the same quantity, contain 8 parts of carbonic acid, 19
of sulphureted hydrogen, 7 of azote, 18.5 of carbonic acid, 615 of mu-
riate of soda, and 91 of muriate of magnesia. The springs at Kilburn
near London, in 138240 parts, contain 84 of carbonic acid, 36 of sul-
phureted hydrogen, 3 of carbonate of lime, 13 of muriate of magnesia,
28 of sulphate of soda, and 91 of sulphate of magnesia. The springs
at Moffat in the south of Scotland, in 103643 parts of water, contain
1 of carbonic acid, 10 of sulphureted hydrogen, 4 of azote, and 4 of
muriate of soda.
4. ACIDS. In the beginning of the preceding section it was stated
that when oxygen is combined with other substances the compound
sometimes possesses none of the properties of acidity, and is then deno-
minated an oxyde; but when these properties are evident the compound
is properly called an acid. The term acid, which in Latin, signifies
sour, has been gradually extended to all substances possessing the fol
lowing properties. 1. When applied to the tongue they excite the sen-
sation of sourness or acidity. 2. They change to red the blue colours
Ao

108
CHEMISTRY.
of vegetables. The blues commonly used for this experiment are the
tincture of litmus, (a cheap blue paint generally brought from Holland)
and syrup of violets or radishes; the flowers of mallows or red cabbage
answer very well: these substances are called reagents or tests. If
these colours have been previously converted to green by the action of
alkalies, the acids restore them to their original blue colour. 3. They
unite with water in almost any proportion. 4. They combine with all
the alkalies, and with most of the metallic. oxydes and earths; forming
with them the compounds called salts, because in their nature they re-
semble common sea salt, which is a compound of the muriatic acid with
soda an alkali. It is however to be observed that, in order to constitute
an acid, it is not necessary that the substance should possess all these
properties; but only such as may sufficiently distinguish it from all
other bodies.

The acids are by far the most important class of bodies in chemistry:
it is by means of them indeed, and by studying their properties, and
employing them in examining other bodies, that chemistry has been
formed into a science and brought to its present advancement.
All bodies to which the properties of acids have been ascribed are
either products of combustion, or supporters of combustion, or combusti-
bles. The acids of the first two classes have only a single base; but
those of the third class have usually two or more bases; and they are
sometimes destitute of oxygen.
1. The acid products hitherto known are only five in number; to
which must be added two other acids very closely resembling them,
although their composition is still unknown. The following table shows
the component parts of the known acid products.

Acids.
Sulphuric
Sulphurous
Phosphoric
Phosphorous
Carbonic
Fluoric
Boracic
Bases.
} Sulphur
Phosphorus
Carbon
Unknown
Oxygen.
0.385
0.15
0.61
0.82
The acids are here named from their bases, with the exception of the
CHEMISTRY.
✔
169
last two which are named from borax, and fluor spar, the substances
in which they are found in the greatest abundance. Hence it appears
that in 1 part of sulphuric acid, the oxygen is .385, and the sulphur
must be the remainder, or .615. Carbonic acid contains no less than
..82 of oxygen, and the remaining .18 must be the carbon.
2. Acid supporters of combustion are those substances which are not
themselves, strictly speaking, capable of undergoing combustion; but
their presence is absolutely necessary, in order that it may take place.
The only simple supporter known is oxygen: but when it is united to
incombustibles, they also become combustible. The properties of these
supporters are that they cannot be produced by combustion;-that they
are capable of supporting combustion in other bodies;-and that they
are decomposed by exposure to a great heat; their oxygen in that case
escaping in the form of gas.
The following table exhibits a view of the principal acid supporters
of combustion, their composition, and the proportion of the component
parts.



Nitric
Acids.
·
Oxymuriatic
Hyperoxymuriatic
Arsenic
Azote
Bases.
Muriatic acid
Arsenic
Proportion of
Oxygen.
0.705
0. 16
0.65
Q. 346
Of acid supporters of combustion the most important are the nitric
and the oxymuriatic. Nitric acid, otherwise called spirit of nitre and
aquafortis, was known to Lully, who was born in the island of Majorca
in 1235, who procured it by distilling a mixture of nitre and clay.
The same process is still used in large manufactories; but the acid thus
qbtained being weak and impure, chemists prepare it for their pur-
poses by distilling 3 parts of nitre with 1 of sulphuric acid or oil of
vitriol. Pure nitric acid ought to be colourless and transparent like
water: it consists of .705 of azote which is its base, and .295 of
oxygen.
Muriatic acid, so called as being a component part of sea salt, is
commonly prepared by distilling a mixture of 1 part of salt and 7 or
8 parts of clay. Its composition is hitherto unknown; but as it com-
bines with oxygen, it is classed among simple incombustible bodies.
This acid when pure is colourless, having a strong pungent smell, and
constantly discharging white fumes when exposed to the air. It is com-
monly however of a pale yellow colour, owing to a small quantity of
oxygen with which it is impregnated.
Muriatic acid in the state of gas possesses the invaluable property of
neutralizing and correcting putrid particles floating in the atmosphere
of rooms, ships, &c. The principal church of Dijon in France was so

170
CHEMISTRY.

infected by putrid exhalations, produced by the too common practice
of burying within the walls of churches (a practice that cannot be too
severely condemned) as to be entirely deserted. An eminent chemist or
the town poured two pounds of sulphuric acid on six pounds of com-
mon salt, contained in a glass vessel, placed on a pan of live coals in.
the middle of the church, and withdrawing precipitately the door was
immediately closed. The muriatic acid gas soon filled the whole build-
ing, and was even perceptible through the door. After twelve hours
the church was thrown open, and a current of air made to pass through
it to carry off the gas; and after some time the noxious putrid odour
was completely removed.
10
•
That many diseases are fatally contagious, by the action of substances
floating in the air, is a truth too well established to require illustration:
it has therefore become an object of the utmost importance, to devise
proper methods of purifying the air of places where diseases are fre-
quent. The eminent chemist above mentioned, Guyton de Morveau, as-
certained, by various experiments, that the noxous matter arising from
putrid substances, was of a compound nature, and that it might be de-
stroyed by those gaseous bodies or vapours which readily parted with
their oxygen. Bodies merely odorous, or of a powerful smell, he found
to have no effect: even gun-powder fired in infected air only displaces
a part of it; but the remainder is still as fetid as before. Sulphuric
acid has no effect: but vinegar diminishes the odour, acting however
very slowly and imperfectly. The acetic acid however, that is distilled
vinegar as highly concentrated as possible, acts instantly, and completely
destroys the fetid, odour of infected air. Hence the great utility of the
best aromatic vinegar prepared by Henry of Manchester. Dr. Carmi-
chael Smyth of London received a large parliamentary remuneration for
his method of correcting infected air. The directions for this purpose
are these.
"Fill a pipkin with heated sand; in it sink a tea-cup con-
"taining half an ounce of the strongest sulphuric acid, (vitriolic acid, or
"oil of vitriol) gently heated, and half an ounce of pure nitre in powder.
"Stir them together with a glass spatula or rod, until a considerable
degree of vapour rise from them." The most powerful agent of all,·
however, is oxymuriatic acid gas, lately introduced and now employed
with the greatest success in the British naval and military hospitals.
"C
All that is necessary is to mix together two parts of common salt with
one part of the black oxyde of manganese, (glass-maker's soap); to
place the mixture in an open vessel in the middle of the infected cham-
ber; and to pour on it two parts of sulphuric acid (oil of vitriol). The
fumes of oxymuriatic acid are immediately exhaled, fill the chamber,
and completely destroy all infection or contagion.
This oxymuriatic acid gas is of a yellowish green colour: its odour
is intolerably acrid and suffocating; and it cannot be breathed without
proving fatal. Pelletier an ingenious French chemist fell a sacrifice to
his experiment on breathing it: a consumption immediately ensued
which soon carried him off. Though this substance has been placed
among the acids, yet it possesses not a single property characteristic of
these bodies. Its taste is not acid but astringent; it does not con-
vert vegetable blues to red, but entirely destroys them, as well as all-
other vegetable colours; and the colours thus destroyed and turned to
white can neither be restored by alkalies nor by acids. It has the
same effect on yellow wax. These vegetable colours are destroyed by
*


;

CHEMISTRY.
$171
the oxymuriatic acid communicating to them its portion of oxygen, by
which process it is reduced to the state of simple muriatic acid.
}
This property has introduced a new mode of bleaching thread, linen,
cotton, wax, &c. To show the effect of oxymuriatic acid in bleaching,
you may suspend some unbleached calico or linen, moistened with wa
ter, in a jar filled with the gas. The natural colour of the cloth will
soon begin to fade, and at last totally disappear. If printed cloth of
different colours be employed all the colours will be destroyed except
yellow. As it removes the stain of common writing ink, but has no
power on printer's ink, it is employed to clean old books or prints.
Half an ounce of minium (red lead) added to three ounces of muriatic
acid will answer this purpose: the acid attracts the oxygen from the
minium which is oxyde of lead, and is then converted into oxymuriatic
acid, containing about one-fifth part of oxygen and four-fifths of mu-
riate.
3. Combustible acids were formerly distinguished into vegetable and
animal acids, because almost the whole of them are procured from ve-
getables and animals. These acids differ from the two foregoing classes
in several particulars. When distilled in combination with potasse
they are completely decomposed, and charcoal is produced; whereas
no combustible substance can be procured by exposing the other acids
to heat; -all of them contain at least two simple combustible sub-
stances as bases, whereas the others never contain more than one: these
two combustibles are always carbon and hydrogen; besides which
some of them contain azote, and often oxygen: they are decom-
posed by the action of the more powerful acid supporters.
The combustible acids are divided into four orders; the first contains
substances which are crystallizable, and may be volatilized by heat
without being decomposed. The second order are crystallizable, but
cannot be volatilized by heat without decomposition. The third order
are not crystallizable; and the fourth order contains three acids, which
from their peculiar properties cannot be arranged under either of the
other orders. The following table contains the names and component
parts of all the acids belonging to these orders.
Order I. Crystallizable, Volatilizable.
Names:
Acetic
Benzoic
Succinic
Camphoric
Constituents.
Carbon, Hydrogen, Oxygen.
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Oxalic
Mellitic
Tartaric
Citric
Sebacic
Saclactic
Laccic
Malic
Lactic
Suberic
Order II. Crystallizable, not Volatilizable.
驢
​Order III. Not Crystallizable.
Gallic
Prussic
Sulphureted Hydrogen
Carbon, Hydrogen, Oxygen.
Order IV. Anomalous.
Carbon, Hydrogen, Oxygen.
Carbon, Hydrogen, Oxygen.
Carbon, Hydrogen, azote.
Sulphur, Hydrogen.
:

The acids of the Ist. order are the acetic or vinegar; the benzoic
from benzoin, vulgarly called benjamin, an East India resin; the succinic
drawn from amber; the camphoric from camphor, the product of a
species of laurel growing in India. Those of the 2d order are the oxalic,
so called because it exists ready formed in the plant called oralis ace-
tosella or wood-sorrel; the mellitic, drawn from a very rare mineral cal-
led honey-stone: the tartaric, called when pure cream of tartar, being
the acid which combined with potasse forms the tartar of wine casks;
Y

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the citric, drawn from lemons and oranges; the sebacic from tallow;
the saclactic, obtained by treating the sugar of milk with nitric acid;
the laccic drawn from white lac, a waxy substance produced by insects
in India. The acids of the 3d order are the malic obtained from apples,
and also in great abundance from common house-leek; the lactic from
milk; the suberic from cork. Those of the 4th order which differ from
all the others are the gallic, drawn from the nut-galls which grow on
some species of oak; the prussic produced by exposing to a red heat
the horns, hoofs, or dried blood of animals, with an equal quantity of
fixed alkali or potasse. Hence is obtained a crystallized salt which
precipitates metals from their solution in acids. Thus iron dissolved in
an acid is thrown down, forming the prussiate of iron, a beautiful blue
powder called prussian blue, from the country of the discoverer Diesbach,
an eminent chemist of Berlin, in the beginning of the last century.
5. COMPOUND COMBUSTIBLES. These are very numerous, consisting
almost all of carbon and hydrogen, or of carbon, hydrogen and oxgyen.
Those employed in chemistry, as instruments of investigation of the
properties of other bodies, are of five sorts, namely, fixed oils, volatile
oils, alkohol, ether, and tan, or the tanning principle which has the pro-
perty of separating glue from its solution with water, and of combining
with the skins of animals, and so converting them into leather.
+
II. Of secondary compounds. Many of the primary compounds may
be again combined with one another, forming secondary compounds:
thus acids combine with alkalies, with earths, and with metallic oxydes,
forming compounds called salts. The earths combine with the fixed
alkalies forming glass. The oils combine with alkalies forming soaps.
1. THE EARTHY COMBINATIONS are of the highest utility in common
life, and many of the precious stones owe their properties to the same
composition. One of the most valuable is stoneware taken in the fullest
extent of the term. This substance varies in name according to external
appearance, the manner in which it is manufactured, and the purposes
to which it is applied. Hence we have porcelane, stoneware, pots, cru-
cibles, bricks, tyles, &c. all these substances however are formed on the
same principles, of nearly the same materials, and they owe their good
qualities to the same causes.
These combinations of earths were known from the earliest times.
The first building of which we have any account, the tower of Babel,
founded soon after the deluge, was constructed of bricks formed out of
the clay soil of the banks of the Euphrates, and hardened in the power-
ful sun of that climate. Bricks of the same nature are still used in that
country; and those discovered in the heaps of ruins which still point
out the situation of the ancient city of Babylon, (of which some were
lately brought to London and Paris,) have evidently been baked in the
suns rays. Stoneware vessels were known to the Jews long before
they were carried away into captivity by the Assyrians. Porcelane, or
the finest kind of stone-ware was brought to perfection in China and
Japan in very remote times; and were even known in Rome before
the time of our Saviour, in consequence of the Roman expeditions into
Asia. Many attempts were made in Europe in later times to imitate
the porcelane of the east: but it was not till about a century ago
that a
chemist of Saxony in Germany, in trying to discover the best materials
for crucibles, accidentally stumbled on a compound that afforded a por-
celane similar to the oriental. Hence the celebrity of Saxon or Dresden
"
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china. Since that time the manufactory has been carried to vast per-
fection, particularly at Sevre near Paris; at Worcester, Derby, and
other places of England very fine stoneware is also produced.
/
Porcelane owes its semitransparency to a kind of semivitrification.
The European imitations were composed of materials which easily melt-
ed by heat; but the original substance from the east is of a different.
nature; seeming to consist of two substances, one of which easily melts.
and incloses the particles of the other when finely powdered, but which
are not affected by heat. The ingredients of the China and Japan por-
celane are said to be a hard stone called petunse which is ground to
powder, and a white earth called kaolin, which is intimately mixed with
the former. The stone is fusible; but the earth cannot be melted when
exposed separately to a violent heat.
*
Stoneware is not formed by mixing together the pure earths, which
would be by far too expensive: but combinations as they are found in
nature are employed. These combinations must have the following pro-
perties:-they must be capable, when reduced to powder, of forming
with water a paste sufficiently manageable and adhesive to be shaped
in any way required:-this paste, after being exposed to a sufficient
heat, or being baked, must acquire such a permanent degree of hardness
as to be able to resist the action of the weather and of water:-the ves-
sels formed of it must resist all changes of temperature :-they must
resist a strong heat without melting :-they must not be penetrable by
liquids, nor liable to be acted upon by chemical agents.
Many of these properties are found in common clay; and it is still
used in a variety of ways. Bricks for instance are, or at least always
should be, made of clay. Tyles also are made of clay, but of the finer
sorts, and usually ground in a mill. Clay is a mixture of alumina and
silica: when the first is in too great a proportion the brick contracts
and is apt to crack in burning: when this shall happen to be the case,
sand which consists chiefly of silica must be added. The red colour
of bricks and tyles is produced in burning by the oxyde of iron con-
tained in the clay.

In order that clay be fit for stoneware, it ought to be entirely free
from metallic oxydes, which not only discolour the ware, but render
it fusible: this last effect is also produced by lime, barytes, &c. To
prevent vessels from contracting too much during the process of baking,
fine colourless sand must be mixed with the clay. What is called
English stoneware consists of tobacco-pipe clay, and powdered flints;
Dutch or Delft ware of clay and fine sand; and the coarsest wares of
common clay and sand. The materials are ground very fine in a mill,
then mixed together and formed into a paste. The different vessels are
coarsely moulded on the potter's wheel, and allowed to dry so far as
to bear to be handled. After this they receive their due form com-
pletely, and when sufficiently dry they are covered with the proper
enamel or glazing, and put into the furnace to be baked.
2. Glass. Potasse and soda, the fixed alkalies, have a strong affini-
ty for several earths, particularly for silica and alumina, which they
dissolve in considerable quantity, especially when assisted by heat.
When a strong heat is applied to a mixture of fixed alkali and silica, it
melts and forms the transparent body we call glass. The knowledge
of glass is very ancient. Pliny the Roman naturalist informs us that
some merchants, returning with a ship load of soda from Egypt, had
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CHEMISTRY
cast anchor in the mouth of the little river Belus, (now the Halou,
falling into the bay of Acré on the north side of Mount Carmel in
Palestine,) and had made a fire on the beach to dress their provisions.
They carried on shore large pieces of the soda to construct the fire-
place and support their kettles. The heat of the fire melted the soda
where it rested on the flinty sand, thereby producing glass. For some
time the manufacture of this most useful substance was confined to that
spot, because its nature was unknown: at last however the ingredients
being better observed it was found that, wherever soda and flinty sand
could be found, their fusion would always produce glass.
A
1
Vessels of pure glass were very highly valued by the ancients; and
in the third century panes of glass were employed in windows. They
must however have been in use much earlier; for on uncovering the
ruins of Herculanum, and Pompeii near Naples, supposed to have been
overwhelmed by the eruptions of Vesuvius about the year 79 of our era,
panes of glass were found in the windows, much discoloured, but not
destroyed by the hot matter from the volcano. It is however to be ob-
served that, according to some late discoveries, it is probable that those
cities were still in existence, and not finally overthrown, until the year
471, when the awful eruption happened which changed the very shape
of Vesuvius, and laid waste all the environs.
The materials employed in making glass, are alkalies, earths, and
metallic oxydes. Soda is the alkali preferred in this country. Silica
is the basis of glass in the state of fine sand or flints; sometimes for
very fine glass rock-crystal, (silica crystallized) is employed. Lime
renders glass less brittle, and enables it the better to stand the action of
the atmosphere; but it ought in no case to exceed the twentieth part
of the silica employed, otherwise it corrodes the glass-pots. The me-
tallic oxydes employed are red lead or litharge, and the white oxyde
of arsenic; this last is however but seldom used, on account of its
poisonous qualities.
1.
After mixing together the alkali and sand it is usual to expose them
for some time to a moderate heat: by this operation any combustible
bodies in the sand are driven off, and a beginning of combination is
brought about, which renders the glass less apt to corrode the clay pots
in which it is melted, and the alkali is not driven off, as it would be if
at once exposed to a violent heat. This mixture after it is thus heated
is called frit.
It is then placed, while hot, in large pots made of a mix-
ture of pure clay and baked clay, and exposed to a heat sufficiently vio
lent completely to melt the mixture. The scum or glass-gall which
gathers on the surface is removed; and when the fusion has been
brought to the proper point the furnace is allowed to cool a little. In
this state the glass is perfectly ductile, and can be formed into any
shape that may be required.
•
When the fusion is complete the workman dips the end of an iron tube
in the fluid, turning it about until a sufficient quantity adhere to it:
this he then rolls gently on an iron plate to render the substance more
compact. He then blows through the tube, causing the melted glass
to swell out into a hollow ball. If a common bottle be wanted this ball
is placed in a proper mold, and blown up till it exactly fill it; and the
neck is formed on the outside of the mold by drawing out the ductile
glass. Window glass is blown into a cylindrical shape which being cut
open is gradually bent back to a flat plate.
176
· CHEMISTRY.

Large plate glass for mirrors, &c. is made by pouring the liquid mat-
ter over a horizontal metallic table, with raised ledges, along which a
roller is passed, to reduce the plate of glass to an uniform thickness.
Flint-glass commonly but erroneously called crystal, is the densest,
the most transparent, colourless, and beautiful. The best kind-manu-
factured in London, is said to consist of 120 parts of white silicious sand,
40 parts of pearl ash, 35 of red oxyde of lead, 13 of nitrate of pot ash,
and 25 of black oxyde of manganese. Flint-glass is the most fusible of
all: it is used for decanters or other vessels intended to be cut or po-
lished, for lustres, chandeliers, &c. and the lenses of the best telescopes
are made of flint-glass. What is called crown-glass, consists of soda
and fine sand without lead: bottle-glass, the coarsest and the least fu-
sible of all is made of the refuse of soap-boilers, and common sand; its
greenish colour is owing to iron. According to experiments, flint-glass
melts at the temperature of 19° of Wedgewood's scale, crown-glass at
30°, and bottle-glass at 47°.
Glass is tinged of different colours by different metallic oxydes; blue
by cobalt, green by iron or copper, violet by manganese, red by a
mixture of copper and iron, purple by gold, white by arsenic and zinc,
yellow by silver and by combustible bodies.

Though glass when cold is brittle, yet while liquid it is one of the
most ductile bodies known. If a thread of melted glass be drawn out
and fastened to a reel, the whole of the glass may be spun off, so fine
as to be scarcely visible by the naked eye.
It is one of the invaluable properties of glass, that it is acted upon
by very few chemical agents. The fluoric acid, drawn from Derby-
shire spar, dissolves it very rapidly: so do the fixed alkalies when
assisted by heat: even hot water, by long continued action, dissolves a
little of it. The fluoric acid is employed to engrave upon glass. The
surface of the glass is covered with a thin coat of bleached bees-wax,
and the figures, inscription, &c. drawn on it as in etching on copper.
Then put the spar finely pounded into a leaden vessel, pouring sulphuric
acid over it. Place the glass with the etched side downwards over the
vessel two or three inches from it. Apply a gentle heat to the vessel,
which will make the acid act upon the spar, which will disengage the
gas to act upon the glass, corroding it to the degree required. The
wax is afterwards removed by oil of turpentine.



If glass vessels were rapidly cooled when first made they would con-
tract unequally according to their unequal thickness; they would con-
sequently either crack or become so brittle as to fall to pieces when
handled. To prevent this inconvenience the vessels are placed in a
large red-hot furnace, which is allowed to burn out and cool very slow-
ly to the temperature of the air. By this process called annealing glass
is rendered strong and capable of enduring considerable pressure and
variations of heat and cold.
3. SALTS. The term salt was originally confined to common kitchen
salt or muriate of soda, a substance known from the remotest ages. In
after times the term became general, and was employed by chemists in a
very extended and not very definite sense. Every body which has a
taste, is easily melted in water; and is not combustible, has been called
a salt. At present however a salt is a compound of an acid with an al-
kali, an earth, or a metallic oxyde. Salts are now denominated from
the acids they contain; and the alkali, earth, or oxyde combined with
CHEMISTRY.
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the acid is called the base. Thus common salt being a compound of the
muriatic acid and soda is called the muriate of soda, and soda is the basc
of common salt. When an acid combines with two bases at once it
forms a triple salt. The number of salts now known amounts perhaps
to near 2000: and it may give some idea of the rapid progress of this
branch of chemistry to consider that 50 years ago not more than 30 salts
in all were properly known.
As the different salts are denominated from their acids, the kinds
must be as numerous as the acids; and their names express the nature
of the acid. When the acid contains the maximum, that is as much as
possible of oxygen, the name ends in ate; but when it contains a smaller
quantity of oxygen the name ends in ite. Thus salts containing sul-
phuric acid, that is, sulphur with the greatest possible quantity of oxy-
gen, are called sulphates, and those containing a smaller quantity of
oxygen and sulphur, or sulphurous acid are sulphiles. Every parti-
cular salt is distinguished by subjoining to the generic term the name
of its base; thus the salt composed of sulphuric acid and soda is called
the sulphate of soda; and triple salts have the names of both bases
thus the salt compounded of tartaric acid with potasse and soda is called
the tartrate of potass and soda.
•
The salts are naturally divided into two grand classes, the first com-
prehending the alkaline and earthy salts, which derive their most im-
portant characters from their acids, and the second class comprehending
the metalline salts, which on the contrary draw their most important
properties from their bases. The alkaline and earthy salts are further
subdivided into combustible and incombustible.
To enter on any detailed account of the various kinds of salts would
correspond with neither the limits nor the objects of this work: it will
therefore be necessary to confine our observations to a few of those
which are of the greatest importance in ordinary life.
Common or table salt. This salt, which has given a name to all other
similar compounds, is now in modern chemistry called muriate of soda,
from the word muria, which in Greek and Latin signifies any thing salt
or salted. This salt exists native in great abundance; immense masses
of it are found in different countries, requiring only to be dug out and
reduced to powder. At Cardona in the north east quarter of Spain is a
little hill 500 feet high consisting wholly of salt. In this state it is cal-
led rock-salt. The waters of the ocean also contain a great proportion
of this salt, to which they owe their taste, and their power of resisting
congelation, until cooled down to 2840, whereas fresh water freezes at
32°. When sea water is sufficiently evaporated by boiling, the salt pre-
cipitates in crystals. In this way salt is obtained in this country. But
the common salt is not pure enough for chemical uses, containing ge-
nerally muriate of lime, (fixed ammonia,) &c. it may however be puri-
fied in this way. Dissolve the common salt in four times its weight of
pure water, and filter the solution. Drop into it a solution first of
muriate of barytes, then of carbonate of soda, (soda,) as long as any
precipitate falis. Separate the precipitates by filtration, and evaporate
slowly till the salt. crystallizes. Pure salt is not affected by exposure
to the air; but common salt contains often a little muriate of magnesia
which disposes it to attract moisture from the air, and so to melt.
According to the latest experiments salt when pure consists of nearly
39 parts of muriatic acid, 53 of soda, and 8 of water.
:
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CHEMISTRY.
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1
2
The uses of salt are equally numerous and important. It is the com-
mon and most useful seasoner of food; it preserves meat from putrefac-
tion, and butter from rancidity; it serves for an enamel to the surfaces
of coarse earthenware; it is an ingredient in many processes in dyeing;
it is employed in assaying metals: its utility in chemistry is very ex-
tensive; from it alone muriatic and oxymuriatic acids can be obtain-
ed; and from it great quantities of soda are now extracted, instead of
the soda formerly obtained from the burning of vegetables. The value
of salt in agriculture is well known; and it forms an important ingre-
dient in the blood, and some other juices of animals.
Salt, or the muriate of soda, is commonly obtained from sea-water or
from salt springs in the following way, in different parts of England
and Scotland.
Close to the sea side a bason or pond is inclosed, by taking advant-
age of the natural rocks, or by a wall so high as to exclude the tide and
waves. Into this pond or bason (called a sump or bucket-pot in different
places,) the sea water is received at a sluice-gate, or by a pump.
Standing there for some time the watery parts evaporate, and the re-
mainder is much salter than before. Adjoining to the sump is con-
structed the saltern or salt-pan, a long low building divided into parts
by a wall. That farthest from the water, or the fire-house, contains
the entrance of the furnace and the fuel, affording cover also for the
workmen or salters: the other division is the pan-house or boiling-house
containing the pan in which the salt water is boiled, under which is the
furnace or fire-place.
The boiling pan is of an oblong form flat and level in the bottom,
and inclosed by perpendicular sides: the length in general about 15
feet, the breadth 12 feet, and the depth 16 inches. The pan is formed
of broad plates of hammered iron, joined together with nails, and the
joinings filled with cement; across the edges are laid strong iron
beams, from which hang a number of hooks connected with the bottom,
by which it is supported against its own weight, and that of the water.
The four corners of the pan rest upon brick or stone pillars, and the
other parts upon thick iron pillars; all resting on the floor of the fur-
nace below, in the middle of which the fire is placed; but the flame
and heat spread all over the bottom of the pan.
When the pan is properly filled with sea-water by pumping from the
bason, and is beginning to grow warm, the workman beats up the
whites of three or four eggs in as many gallons of salt water, which
he pours into the pan and mixes with a rake. Instead of eggs, bullock's
or any other blood may be used. This is to clarify the water; and
when it boils a frothy black scum collects, and is taken off, leaving the
water perfectly clear and transparent, which is then briskly boiled till
much of the watery part is driven off, and the remainder in the pan
becomes a very strong brine. Small crystals of salt now begin to shoot
across the surface of the brine, which in such a pan as is thus describ-
ed generally happens in 5 hours boiling. The pan is again filled with
water, and a second clarification, evaporation, and crystallization take
place: this is repeated twice or thrice over; and when the crystals are
forming, the fire is slackened, only such a fire being kept up as to keep
the brine simmering. The complete granulation of four pans filled in
this way requires 9 or 10 hours. The salt is now drawn up in heaps at
the sides of the pan, where it drains for some time, and is then taken
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CHEMISTRY.
179
out and placed on proper vessels and frames till all the moisture be
entirely drawn off, and the salt be fit to be removed to the store-house,
where it is immediately put under the charge of the officers of the
excise.
In the corners of the pan are placed small vessels into which are col-
lected the scratch, or the calcareous substances separated from the salt
in boiling. The liquor remaining uncrystallized in the pan contains a
great proportion of bittern, that is sulphate of magnesia or Epsom salts,
from which magnesia is usually obtained, by adding potasse which
unites with the sulphuric acid, and disengages the magnesia.
Salt is procured from the water of salt springs by a similar process:
but in warm climates the sea-water is drawn into shallow basons where
the water is evaporated by the heat of the sun, and the salt crystallizes
without any preparation. This salt is however very impure, and re-
quires to be again dissolved, clarified, and again crystallized.
The muriale of ammonia, formerly called sal ammoniac, was brought
from Egypt, where the greater part of the fuel consists of the dung of
cattle dried. This substance contains the muriates of soda and ammo-
nia ready formed. The soot arising from this fuel is collected and put
into large glass bottles which are then exposed in furnaces to a strong heat.
The sal ammoniac gradually sublimes, and attaches itself to the upper
part of the bottles, where it forms a cake of some inches in diameter.
The first manufactory of this salt in Europe was opened in Germany by
Gravenhorst in 1759; soon after which it was made in France by
Beaumé, and in Scotland by Hutton.
This salt is applied to various purposes: it is from it that pure am-
monia is extracted; a considerable portion is consumed by the dyers,
and perhaps a still greater quantity by the coppersmiths, to prevent the
oxydation of the metals they cover with tin. Its use in medicine, par-
ticularly in reviving persons exposed to fainting, and nervous attacks, is
well known.
Borax is supposed to have been known to the ancients under the
name of chrysocolla: it is a sub-borate of soda, that is the soda which
is its base is not completely saturated with the boracic acid. Borax is
brought from India in an impure state under the name of tinkal. Bo-
rax is sometimes used in medicine as an astringent: it also serves to
promote the fusion of metals, whence it is called a flux: it enters also
into the composition of some of the coloured glass pastes made in imita-
tion of precious stones; but its great use is to promote the soldering of
gold and silver.
1
Sulphate of barytes or ponderous spar, contains in its native state 13
parts of sulphuric acid, 84 of barytes, and 3 of water. When formed
into a thin cake with flour and water, and heated to redness, it gives
out light in the dark. Of this nature is the Bolognian stone or phos-
phorus.

Sulphate of soda was first discovered by a German physician, and was
from his name called Glauber's salts; but he called it sal mirabile; it
contains 27 parts of sulphuric acid, 15 of soda, and 58 of water.
Sulphate of lime. The common sort was formerly called gypsum, and
sometimes selenite, as resembling the moon in colour; it is now com-
monly called plaster of Paris. When heated it loses its water of crystal-
lization and falls into a soft white powder, which, when all its water is
driven off by a red heat, absorbs water very rapidly and renders it solid,
{
180
CHEMISTRY.
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at the same time that its heat increases; so that if formed into a paste
with water, it hardens and dries very quickly.
Sulphate of magnesia was first observed in the springs at Epsom by
Dr. Grew in 1675: but Dr. Black first examined its properties; for be-
fore his time, it was confounded with sulphate of soda or Glauber's salts.
Epsom salts abound in sea water; and the uncrystallized liquor remain-
ing in salt pans, after the crystallization of common salt, called bittern,
consists almost entirely of this salt, which contains in crystals 29 parts
of sulphuric acid, 17 of magnesia, and 533 of water; but in the dry
state 631 parts of acid, and 36% of sola. This salt is employed as a
purgative: but its great use is to afford magnesia. The salt is dissolved
in water, and half its weight of potasse being added, the acid unites
with it, and the magnesia falls to the bottom, which is then purified
by washing in water and dried.
Alum is now known to be a compound of sulphuric acid with alumina
and potasse in different proportions. It was brought into Europe from
the east till the 15th century, when it was manufactured in Italy, and
in Elizabeth's reign it was first made in England. When exposed to a
strong heat it swells and foams, losing almost half its weight, and the
remainder is calcined or burnt alum, sometimes used as a corrosive.
In its crystallized state alum contains 173 parts of sulphuric acid, 17 of
its proper base, and 70 of water: but when burnt 36 parts of acid,
and 633 of base. Alum is of great use as a mordant or biter in dyeing;
it is also of service in the preparation of leather, and is employed by
calico-printers, engravers, &c. not to mention its use in medicine, in
preserving animal substances from corruption, and its peculiarly valu-
able property of preventing wood from catching fire. If three parts of
alum, and one part of flour or sugar be melted together in an iron
ladle, and the mixture be dried till it become blackish and cease to
swell; if it be then pounded small and put into a glass phial placed in
a sand-bath, till a blue flame issue from the mouth of the phial, and
after burning for a minute or two be allowed to cool; a substance is
obtained called from the discoverer Homberg's pyrophorus, which has
the useful but very hazardous property of catching fire whenever it is
exposed to the air, especially if the air be moist.
Phosphate of lime is the basis of the bones of all animals, and from
it almost all the phosphorus of the chemists is extracted: it is employ-
ed in the cure of the rickets, and in making cupels for refining metals.
It consists of 41 parts of phosphoric acid, and 59 of lime.
Carbonate of lime exists in great abundance in nature under the names
of marble, chalk, limestone, &c. its component parts when crystallized
are 45 of carbonic acid, and 55 of lime, or rather 50 of acid and water
with 50 of lime.

Carbonate of potasse or fixed alkali, salt of tartar, &c. contains 43
parts of acid 41 of potasse and 16 of water. The potasse of commerce
contains always a smaller proportion of acid; but this varies according
to the materials of which it is made.
Carbonate of soda, barilla, or soda, is usually obtained by burning and
lixiviating marine plants, or by decomposing common salt. It usually
contains when crystallized 14 parts of carbonic acid, 214 of soda, and
64 of water; but when dry it consists of 40 parts of acid, and 60 of
soda.
Nitrate of potasse otherwise called nitre and saltpetre, (stone-salt) is
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CHEMISTRY.
181
1
naturally produced in many countries; and its continual reproduction
in places from which it had been extracted, has greatly excited the at-
tention of naturalists. It is now known that to produce this salt nothing
else is necessary, but a basis of lime with heat, and an open but not too
free communication with the dry atmospheric air. When these circum-
stances are combined the acid is formed, and afterwards the alkali makes
its appearance.
Nitre or saltpetre is obtained artificially from the refuse of animal and
vegetable bodies undergoing putrefaction, and mixed with calcareous and
other earths. The nitre is extracted from the beds of these materials by
steeping them in water, which when fully impregnated is evaporated
by heat, and a brown salt remains, but mixed with other salts, which be-
ing more soluble than itself, are separated from it by repeated washings
in water. Nitre consists of 44 parts of acid, 52 of potasse, and 4 of
water.
One of the most important compounds into which nitre enters is gun-
powder, the introduction of which has completely changed the art of
war. The original discoverer of gun-powder, and the person who first
thought of applying it to war, are equally unknown. It was however
certainly employed in the 14th century. From certain records in Ger-
many, it appears that cannon were used in that country before the year
1372. It is also said to have been used by the Moors in Spain as early
as 1334; and our Edward the 3d had four pieces of cannon at the bat-
tle of Cressy in France in 1346. It is probable however that gun-
powder was known to the Chinese at a much earlier period.
Gunpowder is composed of 76 parts of nitre, 15 of charcoal, and 9 of
sulphur. The ingredients are first reduced separately to a fine powder,
then intimately mixed and formed into a thick paste with water. When
this has dried a little it is placed upon a kind of sieve full of small holes
through which it is forced. By this process the substance is divided
into small grains which when dry are put into barrels which are made
to turn round on their axis. By this motion the grains rub against
each other, their roughnesses are worn off, and their surfaces smoothed:
the powder is then said to be glazed. Gunpowder explodes violently
when a red heat is applied to it. This combustion takes place even in
a vessel entirely deprived of, its air: a vast quantity of gas is emitted,
the sudden production of which is the cause of all the violent effects
which this substance produces. This combustion is owing to the de-
composition of the nitre by the charcoal and sulphur, By the explo-
sion no sensible quantity of water is produced; but the substances re-
maining behind soon attract moisture, and the sulphur enables them to
act strongly on metallic bodies.
ARD
Tartrate of Potasse exists in two varieties; the first containing an ex-
cess of acid is usually called tartar; the second which is neutral was
formerly called soluble tartar, because t dissolves in water much more
readily than the other. The first sort which is a supertartrate of potasse,
is found, in an impure state, incrusted on the bottom and sides of casks in
which wine has been kept. It is afterwards purified by dissolving it in
boiling water, and filtring it while hot. On cooling it deposites the
pure salt, in very irregular crystals commonly called crystals or cream
of tartar, containing 57 parts of tartaric acid, 33 of potasse, and 7 or 8
of water.
Metalline salts. The action of the acids on metals, and the saline
FA
1
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}
bodies formed by their combination, were some of the first objects to
which the earliest chemists directed their attention. The facility with
which some of these compounds change their state, the activity and cor-
rosive nature of many of them, the permanency of others, and the ap
parent conversion of one metallic salt into another; these and some
other peculiarities in metalline salts were well calculated to excite atten-
tion and exercise ingenuity.
The difference between the oxydes of the same metal consists in the
proportion of oxygen which they contain. Now in general oxydes
which do not contain all the oxygen they are capable of holding, have a
tendency to absorb it, until they be completely saturated. This tendency
shows itself with the greatest energy, when the oxydes are combined
with acids, and in a state of solution. Hence green vitriol is a salt com-
pound of sulphuric acid, and black oxyde of iron. When dissolved in
water, and exposed to the air, it soon absorbs oxygen; the black oxyde
is thereby changed to the red, and a new salt is formed, consisting or
sulphuric acid and red oxyde of iron. This change is exactly the re-
verse of that which happens to those earthy and alkaline salts which
contain an acid with the least possible quantity of oxygen. They in-
deed absorb oxygen, and are changed into other salts: but the oxygen
in them combines with the acid, while in the metalline salt it combines
with the base. These different earthy and alkaline salts have been
very happily distinguished by the different terminations of their names.
Thus sulphite of potasse contains the acid of sulphur, with the smallest
possible quantity of oxygen, and the sulphate of potasse contains the
same acid, with the greatest possible quantity of oxygen. Some of the
most important of the salts formed by the action of acids on metallic
bodies, were already mentioned in speaking of the several metals, to
which passages the reader is referred
4. SOAPS. This term in Latin sapo, and in Greek sapón, first occurs
in the writings of Pliny and Galen, to express a detergent or substance
for cleaning cloth of various sorts. Pliny attributes the invention of
soap to the ancient Gauls, observing that it was composed of tallow and
ashes; adding however, that the German soap was esteemed the best.
The fixed oils have the property of combining with the alkalies, earths,
and metallic oxydes, forming with them the compounds called soaps,
differing from one another very materially, according to the nature of
their base. Soaps are also distinguished into hard and soft, the first
made of soda, and the last of potasse.
Hard or soda soap is prepared in this way. A quantity of common
soda is pounded and mixed in a wooden vessel with a fifth part of its
weight of lime, sacked, and passed through a sieve just before it is
used. Upon this mixture water is poured considerably more than is re-
quired to cover it, and allowed to remain for several hours. The lime
attracts the carbonic acid from the soda, and the water is impregnated
with the pure alkali; it is then drawn off by a stop-cock in the vessel,
and called the first ley. Another portion of water is then poured on
the soda, which after some hours is also drawn off and called the second
ley. In the same way water is again poured on and drawn off, form-
ing the third ley. A quantity of oil equal to six times the weight of
the soda used is then put into the boiler, together with a portion of
the third or weakest ley; and the mixture is kept boiling, and agitated
with a wooden instrument. When all this ley is consumed the second
1
CHEMISTRY.
183
is used; the oil becomes milky, combines with the soda, and after some
hours begins to thicken. Portions of the first or strongest ley are then
added from time to time, the substance being continually agitated, and
at last the soapy matter begins to separate from the watery matter. A
quantity of common salt is now added, to render this separation the
more complete: the boiling is still continued for some hours, when the
fire is withdrawn, and the contents of the boiler are suffered to remain
without disturbance. The soap then swims on the top of the liquor
which is drawn off, and preserved for farther use, as it contains carbo-
nate of soda, or common soda. The fire is then rekindled, and a little
of the first ley added to the soap to promote its melting. By repeating
this operation, the soap is brought to a proper consistence, and then
poured into vessels to cool; in a few days it is fit to be taken out and
formed into cakes.
Olive oil is found to answer best for making hard soap, and next to
it is tallow. Linseed and whale oils are only proper for soft soap.
Water has often been combined with tallow soap, for the purposes of
fraud, because it increases the weight, but adds nothing to the value of
the soap. But this fraud may be detected by allowing the soap to lie
for some time exposed to the air. Soap fit for sale contains about 61
parts of oil, 84 of alkali, and 30 of water. White soap is made of tal-
low and soda; but when rosin is mixed with the tallow, yellow soap is
produced.
Soft or potasse soap is made in the same way with the hard, but when
potasse is used, the soap never becomes solid or hard. In this country
it is made of whale oil, and sometimes a little tallow is added, which ap-
pears in fine white spots.
Soap has also been made of wool in place of oil. The ley is formed
as before, and when boiling hot shreds of woollen cloth are thrown in-
to it, where they are speedily dissolved. A proposal was also made
lately to use muscles of fish in the room of tallow or oil; but experi-
ments have shown this project not to answer.
Soaps made of oils and earths instead of alkalies are insoluble in water.
and incapable of being used in washing. They are readily formed by
mixing common soap with a solution of any earthy salt: the alkali of
the soap combines with the acid of the salt, while the earth and oil
unite to form an earthy soap. Hence the reason why waters holding
in solution an earthy salt are unfit for washing. They decompose
common alkaline soaps, and form an earthy soap insoluble in water;
hence they are called hard waters.
Metallic oxydes may be combined with oils in two ways; by mixing
a solution of common soap with a metallic salt, forming a metallic soap,
and by uniting the oxyde directly with the oil, in which state the
mixture is called a plaster, to be spread on cloth, leather, &c. for use in
surgery.
Third. OF AFFINITY.
All the great bodies constituting the system of which our earth is a
part, and of which the sun is the centre, are urged towards each other
by a force which preserves them in their orbits, and regulates all their
motions. This force we call attraction as if the bodies were mutually
drawn towards one another; of its nature however we are entirely
•
;
:
1
184
CHEMISTRY.
02
•
1
ignorant; whether it be inherent in these bodies themselves, or the
consequence of some external agent, are questions beyond the reach of
our philosophy. It is however apparently more simple, and therefore
more agreeable to the operations of nature in other cases, to suppose the
cause which disposes bodies to attract one another to exist within them,
than the contrary; and for any thing we know it seems to be as suit-
able to the attributes of the infinite Creator to have bestowed on the
heavenly bodies the power of acting on each other at a distance, as the
power of being acted on and receiving motion from other substances in
contact with them.
Sir Isaac Newton demonstrated, that this attraction of the planets
was the same with gravitation, or that force by which a heavy body is
urged towards the earth; that it exists not only in the planets as whole
bodies, but in every component part of them however minute; that it
is mutual in its action; that it extends to conlimited distances; and
that all bodies, as far as yet known, are possessed of it.
When two bodies are brought within a certain distance of each
other, they adhere together, and a considerable force is required to se-
parate them: this is the case with two pieces of polished marble or
glass. When a body is dipped in water, and drawn out again, its
surface is moistened, that is, part of the water adheres to it. When a
piece of gold is dipped in mercury, it comes out stained of a white co-
lour, which cannot be removed, because a portion of the mercury ad-
heres and unites with the gold. In all cases the particles of matter are
found united in masses, of endless variety indeed of form and size, but
still so intimately connected as to require different degrees of force to
separate them.

Attraction is of two sorts, that which acts at sensible distances or
which we can measure, and that which acts at insensible distances, or
such as are too minute to come within the observation of our senses.
To the first sort of attraction belong gravitation or weight, electricity,
and magnetism; and to this the term attraction is properly confined.
The second sort existing between bodies at insensible distances, and
consequently confined to the individual particles is distinguished by the
term affinity, or close relation. When particles of the same nature are
united together the effect is called cohesion: but when the surfaces of
bodies only are united it is called adhesion.
Affinity like sensible attraction varies with the mass and the distance
of the bodies: whether cohesion acts in proportion to the mass we can-
not know; because we have no way to vary the mass, but by separa-
tion of parts, and thereby varying their distance. In the affinity of bo-
dies composed of particles of the same nature two points demand at-
tention, viz. the force by which the particles are kept united, and the
form which the particles thus united are known to assume.
The force
as was before said is called cohesion, and the form of the body assumed
by the particles in the act of uniting, if that form be regular, is termed
crystal, and the process in assuming that form is crystallization.
1. Cohesion varies exceedingly in different substances; but in the
same body in equal circumstances it is always the same. Thus a rod
of iron is composed of particles cohering so strongly as to require a very
great force to tear them asunder. A much smaller force will overcome
the cohesion of lead; and a comparatively very small force will separate
the particles of chalk. The following table contains a statement of
"
CHEMISTRY.
185
•
·
the cohesive power of several substances, measured by the number of
pounds avoirdupois, which, when suspended at the lower end of a rod
of each substance an inch square, will be sufficient by their mere weight
to tear the rod asunder, in the same way as a thread is torn asunder
by a weight, or by pulling it in contrary directions.
Steel in bar
Iron, ditto
Iron, cast
Copper, ditto
Silver, ditto
Copper 6, tin 1
Brass
Gold 5, copper 1
Silver 5, copper
Silver 4, tin 1
4
Beech, oak,
Alder
Elm
Mulberry
Willow
Ash
Plumtree
Ivory -
Bone
·
0
1
-
-
-
↓
•
I
1
1
1
1
+
Metals.
54
T
Gold, cast
Tin, ditto
Zinc
135,000
74,500
50,100
28,600
Antimony
41,500 Lead, cast
<<
Alloys.
55,000 | Gold 2, silver 1
51,000 Tin 4, antimony 1
50,000 | Tin 3, lead 1
48,500 Tin 8, zinc 1
41,000 | Lead 8, zinc 1
Woods.
17,300 | Elder
13,900 Lemontree
13,200 Fir-
12,500 Walnut
12,500 Pitchpine
12,000❘ Poplar
11,800
Cedar
-
Bones.
16,270 | Horn -
15,250 Whalebone
-
-
I
I
1
1
1
1
}
1
1
22,000
4,400
2,600
1,000
860
28,000
12,000
10,200
10,000
4,500
10,000
9,250
8,330
8,120
7,656
5,500
4,880
8,750
7,500
From this table it appears that a square bar of steel one inch a side
will support the vast weight of 135 thousand pounds or 60 tuns
hanging from it, before it give way and be torn asunder; while an
equal bar of common hammered iron supports only 74,500 pounds,
not quite 32 tuns, one of cast gold only 22,000 pounds, or not quite
10 tuns, and one of cast lead no more than 860 pounds, not quite 8
hundred weight. It will hence be also seen, that the alloys produ-
ced by compounding the metals in different proportions, possess cohe-
sive powers very unlike those of the component metals taken alone.
Thus gold which when alone supports a weight of 22,000 pounds will,
by mixing it with half its weight of silver, support 28,000; and if
combined with only one-fifth of its weight of copper, have its tena-
city increased so far as to bear 50,000 pounds, before the rod be torn
asunder. The cohesion of copper is doubled by adding one-sixth of
tin. Attention to these facts must be of the greatest importance in
B B
1
k

186
CHEMISTRY.
į
various works where the cohesive powers of metals, timber, &c. aré
called into exercise; powers which can be known from experience alone,
and not from any reasoning on the apparent properties of the several
substances employed. From experience we learn that the cohesion or
tenacity of metals is greatly increased by working them in the forge,
and by drawing them out into wire. By this last operation, gold, silver,
and brass have their cohesion nearly tripled; and copper and iron have
theirs more than doubled.
When a solid body is immersed in a liquid, if the particles of the li
quid attract those of the solid more forcibly than the particles of the so-
lid attract one another, these last are gradually carried off by the fluid,
and combine with its particles; the solid is then said to be dissolved, for
the bond of union between its particles is broken. Thus sugar is dis-
solved by water, and sulphur by oil. When the particles of the fluid
have attracted so many of those of the solid as that the attraction of the
remaining parts of the solid balances that of the fluid, the solution is
stopt, and the liquid is said to be saturated. Let now a part of the li-
quid be withdrawn, and the attraction of the remainder for the dissolv-
ed particles of the solid must be weaker than that of the solid particles
for each other: these last will therefore have a tendency to quit the li-
quid, and to reunite together, forming again a solid body; and if the
whole of the liquid be gradually withdrawn the whole of the dissolved
particles will again unite into a solid body: this is called crystallization.
2. Crystallization. The term crystal originally signified in the Greek
ice, being composed of two words expressing to be contracted, and ren-
dered solid by cold. From ice or frozen water the term came to be ap-
plied to other substances resembling ice, particularly to transparent
quartz or silica, usually found in clefts of rocky mountains, and thence
called rock-crystal. The same term is also applied to the finest tran-
sparent glass, when cut into different forms for use. Rock-crystal itself
was, by the ancients, supposed to be nothing but water congealed by
cold. In the present times by crystals we mean all those regular figures
which bodies assume, when their particles have full liberty to combine,
agreeably to the laws of cohesion. These regular bodies occur very
frequently in the mineral kingdom, and have long attracted attention
on account of their singular beauty and regularity. Thus the diamond
is crystallized carbon, the substance which when combined with oxygen
forms charcoal. The brilliant red ruby, the yellow topaze, the blue
sapphire, the purple amethyst, are generally found as crystals of alumina
(the base of clay,) with very small proportions of silica and iron. From
these crystals however, diamond essentially differs in being altogether
combustible.

By far the greater number of salts likewise assume a crystalline
form; and as they are almost all soluble in water we can obtain their
crystals at pleasure. In general every individual substance puts on in
crystallizing a particular form, or a certain set of forms, by which each
may be easily known. Thus common salt assumes the form of a cube;
alum that of two four-sided pyramids joined at their bases; saltpetre a
six-sided prism; sulphate of magnesia, (Epsom salts,) a four-sided
prism; carbonate of lime (marble, limestone, &c.) is often found crys-
tallized in the form of a rhomboid.
As the particles of bodies must be at liberty to move before they can
crystallize, they must first be made fluid by either solution in a liquid
*.
CHEMISTRY.
187
*
crys-
or fusion by heat. Solution in a liquid is the common method of
tallizing salts: they are dissolved in water; the water is slowly evapo-
rated, the saline particles are thus brought nearer to each other, at last
they combine by their mutual attraction, and form crystals which, bẹ-
corning gradually larger by the accession of new particles, in the end
fall down to the bottom of the vessel.
Some salts are soluble only in a small quantity when cold water is
applied to them, but in a much greater quantity in hot water; that is
to say water at the ordinary temperature has little effect on them, but
water combined with caloric dissolves them readily. When hot water
thus saturated with salts again becomes cold it is no longer capable of
holding them all in solution; the consequence is that the saline particles
gradually approach each other and crystallize. Sulphate of soda, (Glau-
ber's salts,) is a salt of this kind; and the experiment may be easily
tried. To crystallize such salts nothing more is necessary than to dis-
solve as much of them in hot water as it will receive, and then allow the
mixture to cool by degrees. The quantity of salts exceeding what the
water when cold can retain in solution will fall crystallized to the bot-
tom. Were we to attempt to crystallize this mixture by evaporating the
hot water we should not succeed; nothing would be procured but a
shapeless mass of salt. In the same manner sugar is dissolved in water.
At the temperature of 48°, (about that of London in March and Octo
ber,) water dissolves its own weight of sugar: and its dissolving power
increases with the temperature. Water thus saturated with sugar is cal-
led syrup, and when made very strong, and allowed to cool very slowly,
the
sugar it contains crystallizes and falls to the bottom of the vessel, in
the form of four-sided or six-sided prisms, terminated by two-sided or
three-sided summits. There are however other salts nearly equally so-
luble in cold and in hot water; common salt for instance. Such salts
cannot therefore be crystallized by cooling; but they may be crystallized
by evaporating the water while hot: these salts of course contain but
little water of crystallization..
Many substances exist which are insoluble in water or any other li-
quids, but which are capable of assuming a crystalline form: this is the
case with the metals, with glass, and with some other bodies. To crys-
tallize these substances we employ fusion, which is only a solution by
the application of heat; a process recognized even in common language;
for we speak equally of melting sugar in water, and melting lead on
the fire. By fusion of metals the particles are separated from each other;
and if the cooling go on slowly they will arrange themselves in regular
crystals.
"

All watery fluids are contracted by cold, until it arrive at a point 7
or 8 degrees above their freezing point, when they begin again to ex-
pand at nearly the same rate with their previous contraction; and pro-
vided they be suffered to remain perfectly still without the least motion
or agitation, they may be cooled down in a state of fluidity much below
their freezing point. Thus water when perfectly still may be cooled
down to 10% of Fahrenheit: but if it be quickly agitated, especially if
a small particle of ice or snow be dropped into it, a part of the water
will instantly congeal, and the temperature will at once rise up to 329,
in consequence of the heat produced or thrown out on the surface
by the act of freezing. If Glauber's salts be dissolved to saturation in
kòt waler, in a phial closely corked up, and allowed to cool without mo-


188
CHEMISTRY.
1
tion or agitation, no crystals at all are formed: but the instant the phial
is uncorked the solution crystallizes rapidly, and the whole in a manner
becomes solid. These facts are explained by supposing an affinity be-
tween the salt and caloric; so that while they are combined the salt
cannot freeze; but that when, by agitating the fluid or uncorking the
phial, a communication is opened with the atmosphere, which is a
powerful conductor of heat, the caloric is rapidly carried off, and the
liquids instantly congeal or crystallize.
{

·
Having thus in a very summary way pointed out some of the most
interesting phenomena, comprehended in the very extensive and im-
portant study of chemistry, the subject will now be closed by a few re-
marks relative to a peculiar production of nature which, of late years,
has greatly and deservedly attracted the attention, of chemical philo-
sophers.


1
Luminous bodies called fire-balls, meteors, &c. have in all ages been
observed in the heavens. Their disappearance has frequently been ac-
companied by a loud explosion like a clap of thunder, and it has
been often affirmed, that heavy stony bodies fell from them to the earth:
these have been vulgarly called thunderbolts, on the supposition of
their being produced during storms of lightning and thunder, or by
the firy meteors seen passing rapidly across the air. One of the most
remarkable of these meteors appeared in the western parts of Europe
on the 18th of August 1783. It appeared about 9 in the evening, and
was very luminous: it was seen all over Britain from north to south,
and over a great part of the continent: it moved with very great ve-
locity, and from observations made at various places, its elevation above
the earth must have been nearly 60 miles; consequently from its ap-
parent magnitude it must have been at least a thousand yards in
diameter.

1
It is only twenty years since proper atention was bestowed on the
stony substances affirmed to have fallen from the atmosphere. A col-
lection of instances supported by unquestionable evidence was published
in 1796 by Mr. Edward King of the Royal Society of London; and in
the Philosophical Transactions for 1802 appeared a dissertation by Mr.
Howard on the subject, adducing irresistible proofs that the stones he
had procured and examined had actually fallen from the atmosphere,
Mr. Howard by accurate chemical examination of various specimens
of these stones, discovered that they completely differed from every
other kind of stone hitherto known; that they all resembled one ano-
ther, and were all composed of the same ingredients, from whatever
part of the world they were brought; for he analyzed specimens col-
lected not only in this country, but in France, Germany, Italy, and
even in India. It is therefore quite inconceivable that, in climates and
soils so different in nature, stony bodies should be found in detached
masses, precisely similar in every respect, but totally differing from
every other mineral of the countries where they were found, unless they
all proceeded from the same origin.
Most of the stones that have been observed to fall from the atmo
sphere have followed the appearance of luminous bodies or meteors,

CHEMISTRY.
189
!
winch burst with an explosion, and then the stones fell to the ground.
Sometimes the stones continue luminous till they sink into the earth;
but most commonly their light disappears at the time of the explosion.
These stony bodies when found after an explosion, or being observed
to fall, have always been hot, and often smell strongly of sulphur.
They are of all sizes from a few ounces to several tons in weight, usu-
ally roundish with a black crust, consisting chiefly of iron oxydized.
From the velocity and height with which they come down, they com-
monly bury themselves some depth under the surface. Their outer
surface is rough, and when broken the inside is of an ash grey colour,
grained like coarse sandstone. When examined with a microscope four
different substances are perceived, namely a number of round bodies,
some as large as peas, so hard as to scratch glass; fragments of py-
rites, (sulphuret of iron;) grains of metallic iron, and a soft earthy
substance in which the three other bodies are cemented together. The
outward black crust consists of iron and nickel compounded, partly me-
tallic, and partly oxydized. The pyrites contain iron, nickel, and sul-
phur. The metallic grains are iron and nickel; and the small yellow
round bodies consist of silica, magnésia, iron and nickel. ·
•
Various origins have been ascribed to these extraordinary substances;
some have supposed them to have been thrown up to a vast height in
the air by volcanoes, and then carried to a distance by the winds: but
no such substances are ever found among the productions of volcanos.
Others, among whom is even the celebrated French astronomer La Place,
have imagined them to have been projected from the volcanos known
to exist in the moon, with such force as to come within the sphere of
the attraction of the earth, and so be drawn to its surface. But the
opinion which seems to be the most rational is, that these metallic con-
cretions are actually formed by chemical combinations in our own atmo-
sphere, and thrown upon the earth by the explosion of meteors.
Not only these stony concretions are found in various parts, always
containing iron in different states, but masses of native iron itself have
been discovered in various parts, mixed with nickel, and exactly re-
sembling the iron found in atmospheric stones. These metallic masses
must therefore be ascribed to the same origin; for it is well known that
real native iron, as it is found in the bowels of the earth, is totally des-
titute of nickel. Of the masses of native iron the most remarkable have
been found in the midst of the immesne plains in the heart of South
America, far from any mountains or other natural sources of such a mi-
neral production. One of these masses that seemed to have been acted
upon by fire, was calculated to weigh no less than 13 tons: another,
which was 9 feet long by 6 feet broad, and I foot thick, would weigh
9 tons.
Lists have been formed of the best authenticated instances of stones,
and what are usually considered to be mineral substances, having fallen
from the air; of these a few of the most remarkable are here subjoined.
The first column shows the nature of the substances, the second the
place where they fell, the third the time when they fell, and the fourth
the authority on which the occurrence is founded.
"

190
CHEMISTRY

Substances.
Sulphureous shower
Stoues
Trou
Stones, one of 120 lb.
Stone cf 12 lb
Firy shower
Sulphureous ditto
12 Stones
Stone of 56 lb.-
Stony shower
•
Where they fell.
South of Italy
North of Italy
Macedonia
North of France
Brunswick
Normandy
Stony mass
2 stques of 300, & 200 lb. North of Italy
Stony shower
Sodom, Gomorrah, &c. 2000 years before Christ Moses.
Rome
650 ditto
1..0 ditto
1510 of Christ
1708
1717
1721
1750
1762
1790 July 24
1794 July
1795 December 13,
798 December 19,
1800 April 5,
18~3 April 26,
•
Mass of iron, 70 solid feet! America -
Stones from 10 to 17 lb. Normaudy
·
South of France
Siënpa
Wold-cottage, Yorkshire
India, at Beonares
When they fell.
•
Authorities.
•
Livy.
Pliny.
(aidanus.
Paul Lucas
Geoffroy.
Siegesberg.
Lalaude
Acad. of Bourdeaux.
St. Amand, &c.
Lord Bristol.
Capt. Topham.
Mr. Williamis.
Philos Magazine.
Fourcroy.

Could any doubts be entertained of the great importance of chemistry,
considered not abstractedly as a branch of the study of nature, but
practically as applicable to the indispensable demands and necessities
of human existence, such doubts would be completely removed by a
consideration of the following articles, relative to the purification of me-
tals, and the manufacture of bread, wine, beer, &c. &c.
I. Method of obtaining sundry metals in a state of purity.
1. Platinum can scarcely be obtained perfectly pure in a metallic
state, or in any considerable quantity, because we are unable to pro-
duce heat sufficient for melting it. The oxyde may however be ob
tained quite pure from the muriate of platinum, and ammonia. This
salt is to be decomposed by a violent heat, and the residuum may
be redissolved in nitro-muriatic acid, and precipitated with sodą.
2. Gold is obtained quite pure by dissolving it in nitro-muriatic
acid, and precipitating the metal by dropping in a very diluted so-
lution of sulphate of iron: the powder thus thrown down, when well
washed and dried, is pure gold.
3. Silver. Dissolve the silver of commerce in nitric acid, and pre-
cipitate it with a diluted solution of sulphate of iron, and the powder
thrown down will be pure silver. Or precipitate with common salt,
form the precipitate into a paste with soda, put it into a crucible
lined with soda, and fuse it with a brisk heat: this process will give
a lump of pure silver.
4. Mercury may be obtained pure by distilling a mixture of two
parts of cinnabar, and one part of filings of iron, in an iron retort.
The mercury passes over, and the sulphur combining with the iron
remains behind..



·
5. Copper is dissolved in muriatic acid, and the metal is precipitated
by a polished plate of iron; or the black oxyde of copper, obtained
by decomposing cuprated ammonia, may be melted together with an
equal weight of pounded glass and pitch.
6. Iron can scarcely be obtained perfectly free from carbon, to its
combination with which, in different proportions, its various qualities
are principally owing,
CHEMISTRY.
191
7. Tin may be procured pure by dissolving it in strong nitric acid,
when the white oxyde of tin is formed, which is insoluble. This is
first digested with muriatic acid, and afterwards with aqua regia.
Mix the oxyde thus purified with an equal weight of pitch and a little
borax, and melt it in a crucible.
8. Lead is purified from the carbonate, by solution in weak nitric
acid, and precipitation by zinc, and from the sulphuret, by solution
in nitric acid, mixing the solution with muriatic acid and crystallizing.
The crystals are dissolved in boiling water, and evaporated to drynëšs.
The mass is melted in a crucible, with 24 times its weight of black
flux, composed of 2 parts of tartar deflagrated with 1 part of nitre.
9. Zinc is dissolved in sulphuric acid, and a plate of the metal al-
lowed to remain for a considerable time in the solution. It is then
filtered, and the zinc precipitated with soda. When dry the precipi-
tate is mixed with half its weight of pure charcoal, and distilled in en
earthen retort, in the neck of which the zine is collected pure.
10. Antimony is dissolved in nitro-muriatic acid, and precipitated
by pouring water on it. The precipitate is then mixed with twice its
weight of tartar, and fused in a crucible.
11. Arsenic in the state of white oxyde is dissolved in muriatic acid,
precipitated by water, redissolved, and a plate of zinc is placed in the
solution, to which has been added some alcohol. The arsenic is thén
thrown down in its metallic state.
12. Manganese is digested in nitric acid, then mixt with sugar, and
dissolved in the same acid. The solution is filtered, and precipitated
by an alkali; mix it into paste with oil, and expose it to a violent heat
in a crucible lined with charcoal.
II. Method of making bread, wine, beer, vinegar, &c.
The most striking distinction between mineral substances and those
belonging to the animal and vegetable kingdoms is this, that mineral
bodies show little or no tendency to change their nature, and when left
to themselves undergo no spontaneous decomposition; whereas animal
and vegetable bodies are continually altering, and when left to them-
selves always run through a regular course of decomposition. During
this spontaneous decomposition of vegetables, it is obvious that their
component substances must unite together in a manner different from
that in which they were previously united, forming new compounds that
did not before exist. It has been observed, that the specific gravity of
the new compounds is almost always less than that of the old com-
pounds; some of them usually flying off in the state of gas or vapour.
Hence the smell emitted by vegetables in the course of their various
changes. When the odour is very offensive or noxious the decomposi-
tion is called putrefaction; but when it is not offensive, or when any of
the new compounds formed is applicable to useful purposes, it is called
fermentation. This term alludes to the intestine motion which is al-
ways perceptible in vegetable substances while fermenting; it may also
have a reference to the heat generated during fermentation. The term
is now often used to express all the spontaneous changes undergone
by vegetables, without any regard to the products, in which sense it
includes putrefaction.
Fermentation never takes place unless vegetable substances contain
}
1

192
CHEMISTRY.
a certain portion of water, and unless they be exposed to a temperature
above the freezing point. When quite dry or when frozen, many of
them continue long without alteration: hence we have an easy way to
prevent fermentation.
Vegetables differ greatly in their tendency to run into fermentation.
Sugar, gum, starch, indigo, wax, resins, camphor, wood, cork, &c.
though mixed with water, and exposed to heat, show scarcely any
tendency to change their nature. Oils absorb oxygen from the air;
but too slowly to produce any intestine motion. But it is when several
vegetable principles are mixed together, that fermentation is the most
perceptible, and the change the most remarkable: and certain sub-
stances have a singular efficacy in exciting fermentation in others, on
which account they are called ferments.
1. Of Bread. Simple as the manufacture of bread now appears to
us, its discovery must have been the fruit of ages of effort, on the part
of men whose sagacity, had they lived in more improved times, would
have placed them on a footing with an Aristotle or a Newton.

The method of making bread similar to ours was known in Asia at
a very early period. The Jews knew it in the time of Moses; for we
find in his book of Exodus, a prohibition to use leavened, (that is
fermented) bread, in the celebration of the passover. It does not ap-
pear however to have been known to Abraham: for in his history we
hear frequently of cakes suddenly prepared when wanted, but never of
leavened bread. It was therefore probably in Egypt that the Israelites
learned the art of fermentation. The Greeks attribute the invention
of bread to their Pan, a rural divinity. From Homer we learn that
leavened bread was known in the time of the Trojan war, 1200 years
before our era.
Yet according to Pliny the Romans, highly advanced
as they were in political and military skill,.were ignorant of fermented
bread until 200 years before our era. Since that period the art has ne-
ver been unknown in the south of Europe: but in some northern parts
of the continent fermented bread is, even at this day, very seldom used.
The only substance well adapted for making what we call loaf-bread
is wheat-flour, which is found to consist of three ingredients, namely,
gluten, starch, and a sweet substance possessing some of the properties
of sugar. It is to the gluten that wheat-flour owes its superiority over
every other flour as the basis of bread. Indeed there are only two
other substances known of which loaf-bread can be made, viz. rye and
potatoes. The rye-loaf is however by no means so well raised as the
wheat-loaf; and potatoes cannot be made into bread at all without a
particular management. The potatoes previously boiled, and reduced
by rolling to a very fine tough paste, must be mixed with an equal
weight of potatoe-starch. This mixture baked in the usual way makes
a very white well-raised pleasant bread. Instead of starch barley-meal
may be usefully employed.
The baking of bread consists in mixing wheat-flour with water, and
forming it into a paste. The average proportion is two parts of water
to three of flour: but this varies much according to the age and the
quality of the flour. In general the older and the better the flour, the
greater the requisite quantity of water. If the paste be allowed to stand
for some time, the ingredients act upon one another, and the compound
acquires new properties: it gets a disagreeable sour taste, and a quan-
tity of gas, (probably carbonic acid gas) is thrown off; in'short the paste


CHEMISTRY.
198
now ferments; and from this process the term fermentation was first
applied to chemistry. The gluten is changed by acting on the starch,
and no longer can be found. If paste fermented in this way be haked,
it forms a loaf full of eyes like our bread, but so sour and unpleasant
that it cannot be eaten. If a small quantity of this old paste or leaven,
be mixed with new made paste, the whole begins to ferment in a short
time; a quantity of gas is produced, but the glutinous part of the flour
renders the paste so tough, that the gas cannot escape; it therefore causes
the paste to swell in every direction; and if it be now baked into loaves,
the vast number of air-bubbles confined in every part render the bread
quite full of eyes, and extremely light. When the precise quantity of
leaven necessary to produce fermentation, and no more, is employed,
the bread is light, and free from all unpleasant taste: but if too much
be used the taste is bad, and if too little the fermentation does not go
on, and the bread is compact and heavy. To make good leavened
bread is therefore an operation of some difficulty.
From history we learn that the Gauls, the ancient inhabitants of
France, had a different way of fermenting bread. They formed the
paste in the usual way, but instead of leaven mixed with it a little of
the barm or yeast which collects on the surface of fermenting beer.
This produced as complete a fermentation in the paste as leaven, with
the advantage that it was not so apt to spoil the taste of the bread.
About 130 years ago, the use of barm was secretly adopted by the
bakers of Paris; but when it was discovered the college of physicians
there in 1688 declared it to be highly prejudicial to health; and it was
not till after a long time that the bakers succeeded in convincing the
people, that bread made with barm is superior to bread made with
leaven.
The barm as it comes from the beer contains various substances: but
gluten mixed with some acid, arising from the vegetables employed to
make the beer, are alone essential for fermentation.
When the bread is properly raised, it is put into an oven previously
heated. Bakers use no thermometers to ascertain the heat of their ovens ;
they usually judge of it by flour thrown on the floor, which, if the heat
be at the proper point, becomes black very soon without taking fire.
From experiments however, it is known that the proper heat of an oven
for baking bread is about 448° of Fahrenheit's scale, double the heat
of boiling water, and equal to the heat which melts tin.
Bread when taken from the oven is naturally lighter than when -put
in, from the moisture evaporated by the heat. By accurate experiments
a loaf that before baking weighed 4 pounds, weighed on coming
out of the oven only 3 pounds; so that it had lost in baking
ΤΟ
pound, or better than 17 per cent. This loss of weight is however
by no means uniform; nor can its variation be easily explained. It is
clear, that if the paste have not all the same degree of moisture, if the
barm or yeast be not accurately and equally mixed through the whole
mass, if the fermentation have not equally taken place in every part;-
in such circumstances the evaporation must be very unequal. But
to perform all this completely must evidently be extremely difficult, and
in the common business of the baker must be next to impossible.
Great caution is therefore necessary in deciding, from the weight of
baked bread, whether or not the proper quantity of flour was employ-
ed in its manufacture. Upon the whole it has been ascertained that
с с
6
ΤΟ
×
ΤΟ
F
2
194
CHEMISTRY.
other things being equal, the loss of weight occasioned by the heat is
proportional to the extent of the surface of the loaf, and to the length
of time it remains in the oven. Hence the smaller the surface, or the
nearer the figure of the loaf approaches to a globe, the smaller is the loss
of weight sustained in baking; and the longer the loaf continues in the
oven the greater is the loss.
A loaf that weighed just 4 pounds when taken out of the oven, after
the usual baking, was put in again, and after 10 minutes was found to
have lost 2 ounces, and in 10 minutes more it lost another ounce.
The longer bread is kept the lighter it is, unless it be kept in a damp
place, or wrapt round with a wet cloth, which is an excellent method
of preserving bread fresh and free from mould, for a long time.
2. Of Wine. By the vinous fermentation we mean every species of
fermentation which terminates in the formation of an inebriating or
intoxicating liquor. These liquors are of two kinds, namely those
drawn from the juices of plants, and those from decoctions of seeds;
hence come wine and beer.

From a considerable number of ripe fruits a sweet liquor may be
expressed, having at the same time a certain degree of acidity. Of
such fruits we have in our own country the apple, the pear, the cherry,
the gooseberry, the currant, &c.: but by far the most valuable of such
fruits is the grape, which grows in abundance in the southern regions
of Europe.. The grapes producing the most delicately flavoured wines
are the growth of moderate climates, such as the fragrant wines of
Burgundy in the middle of France; but the richer, and more substan-
tial products of the vine are usually found in the warm regions of the
south of Spain, Italy, Greece, &c. In the great and uninterrupted
heats of the East and West Indies, however, although grapes are pe
culiarly delicious for the table, yet it is extremely difficult to make
tolerable wine, which in the progress of the manufacture requires at
times a temperature considerably lower than what in those climates can
often be procured.


T
:
The juice expressed from grapes fully ripe is sweet, and called must
from the Latin mustum, a word equally applicable to the first prepara-
tion of the decoction of seeds, as the wort of beer. The must of wine
consists of water, sugar, jelly, gluten, and the acid of tartar, partly sa-
turated with potasse. The quantity of sugar contained in ripe grapes
is
very considerable of this we have a proof in the sugar crystallized
on the surface of the dried grapes, to which we improperly confine the
name of raisins, which in the French language signifies the individual
fruit, while the grape is properly the cluster or bunch of raisins. The
sugar may be obtained by evaporating must to the consistence of syrup,
separating the tartar, which precipitates during the evaporation, and then
setting by the must for some months, during which the crystals of sugar
are gradually formed. From a French pint (a quart English) of ordi-
hary must, half an ounce of sugar, and of an ounce of tartar may be
extracted: but the very rich muscadine grape will give nearly one-third
of its weight of a peculiar kind of sugar.
When must is placed in the temperature of 70°, the ingredients be-
gin to act on each other, and the vinous fermentation begins, showing
itself by an intestine motion in the liquid which becomes thick and
muddy, the heat increasing, and carbonic acid separating. In a few
days the fermentation ceases, the thick part falls down to the bottom,


CHEMISTRY.
195
2
#
or rises to the surface, the liquid becomes clear, it has lost its sweetness,
and acquired a very different taste, its specific gravity is diminished,
and in short it is converted into a totally new liquor, which we call
wine. This remarkable change is entirely produced by the action of
the ingredients of the must, and not by the access of any substance in
the atmosphere; for it takes place equally well in close vessels as in
the open air.
If the juice of such fruits as contain but little sugar, as currants for
instance, be put in a favourable situation, fermentation indeed takes
place, but so slowly that the product is not wine but vinegar: if how-
ever a sufficient quantity of sugar be mixed with the juice, wine is
readily produced. Hence we find that sugar is absolutely necessary to
the vinous fermentation, and that without sugar natural or adventitious
no wine can be made. It is also remarkable, that in the process the
sugar is totally decomposed; for from properly fermented wine, no
sugar can be obtained. By the experiments of the most eminent che-
mists of France, (a country where the art of making wine is more
scientifically pursued than any where else in Europe,) it appears that
the strength of wine is always proportional to the sugar in the must.
When the must contains little sugar, the fermentation is rapid, but the
wine contains little spirit; and when the proportion of sugar is great,
the fermentation is slow, but the product yields a great deal of spirit.
The importance of these observations in the manufacture of currant or
other wines made in this country, will be obvious to every one.
In fermentation the heat produced is always proportioned to the ra-
pidity of the process; and it seems to be the cause of that rapidity.
When the fermentation has ceased, the liquor is put into casks, where
the remainder of the sugar is decomposed; after which the wine, de-
canted off the extractive matter, is put up in bottles for keeping.
Besides water which constitutes a large proportion of all wines, they
contain more or less of an acid, alcohol or spirit, extractive matter,
volatile oil, and colouring matter. The acid most abundant in wine is
the malic or that of apples; but the carbonic acid (fixed air) is also
found in several wines, to which they owe their briskness and frothing
when poured into a glass. Of this sort is the brisk sparkling wine of
Champagne in France. Such wines are usually in themselves weak,
and they are put up in vessels before the fermentation be over, so that
some portion of the carbonic acid is still retained, which escapes when
the vessels are opened, producing the briskness by which those wines
are distinguished. By adding sugar, (a compound of carbonic acid
with oxygen,) to sherry or other mild white wines, a similar brisk
sparkling will be produced.

All wines contain more or less of alcohol or spirit, to which they owe
their strength. When wine is distilled the alcohol readily separates :
and the distillation is usually continued as long as the liquor that comes
over is inflammable. The spirit thus obtained is brandy, an abbrevia-
tion of the Dutch term brandewyn, signifying burnt wine. This liquor
cannot be traced in the writings of any ancient nation of the south:
among the inhabitants of the northern and colder parts of Europe,
however, ardent spirits seem to have been early known. Brandy, as
well as rum, and usquebaugh or whisky, consists of water, alcohol or
spirit of wine, and a peculiar oil from which proceeds the flavour.
The extractive matter of wine, or the sweet principle, consists of
196
CHEMISTRY.
1.
mucilage, gluten, and extract: but the proportion in the wine dimi-
nishes according to its age, being gradually precipitated to the bottom
of the cask or bottle.
-
Every kind of wine is distinguished by a peculiar flavour and odour,
probably depending on the presence of a volatile oil belonging to the
fruit, but so small in quantity, that it cannot be separated.
The colouring matter of wine is originally contained in the husk of
the grape, and is not dissolved till the spirit be developed. When the
wine is exposed to the heat of the sun this colouring matter is precipi-
tated: it also sometimes precipitates in old wine; but it may be easily
separated by pouring lime water into the wine.
3. Of Beer. The method of making beer, although not nearly so
simple and obvious as that of making wine, cyder, perry, and other
vinous liquors, was certainly known in very remote ages. By the an-
cient Greek writers the invention of beer is ascribed to the Egyptians,
whose country abounded in grain, but was unfit for the culture of the
vine. It is however noticeable, that, in the writings of Homer, who
flourished a thousand years before our era, and who delights in de-
scribing the customs of different nations, no mention is made of beer.
Among the northern nations of Europe, the use of beer may be traced
back to the earliest periods of their history.
In Europe beer is usually made of barley, in India of rice, in the
interior of Africa, the heroic but ill-fated traveller Mungo Park found
beer made of the grain called holcus spicatus: but whatever grain be
employed, the process of making the beer is nearly the same. The
barley is steeped in water for about 60 hours, in order to saturate it
with the liquid: it is then removed as speedily as possible, otherwise
the water will dissolve and carry off the most valuable part of the grain.
The barley is then laid in a heap for 24 hours; heat is thrown out,
oxygen gas, (vital air) is absorbed from the atmosphere, carbonic acid
gas, (fixed air) is emitted, and germination (shooting of the radical
downards, and of the plumula upwards) commences. In this state the
barley is spread upon a cool floor, slowly dried, and then becomes malt.
Malt, previously ground to a coarse powder, is infused in a sufficient
quantity of water of the temperature of 160° for an hour. The infu-
sion is then drawn off, and more water may be added, at a higher tem-
perature, till all the soluble part of the malt be extracted. The infu-
sion is called wort: it has a sweet taste, containing a quantity of sugar,
and also some gelatinous matter. In some parts of this country it is
usual to mix two parts of ground barley with one part of ground malt;
an operation which is found to yield an equal quantity of beer, and of a
quality rather superior to that of beer made from malt alone.
The wort is conveyed to a boiler where it is boiled with hops or some
other equivalent bitter, and then put into large fermenting vats. The
effect of the bitter is not only to render the sweetness of the wort more
grateful to the palate and stomach, but to preserve it from rapid decom-
position. For the bitter principle existing in many vegetables differs
considerably from every other substance found in them, particularly in
resisting the action of many powerful substances, by which the wort
alone would soon be destroyed. The nitrate of silver, and the acetate
of lead, (silver dissolved in aquafortis, and lead in vinegar) are the on-
ly bodies that will precipitate this bitter principle from the infusion of
vegetables containing it.
•
-


CHEMISTRY.
197
When wort is placed m the temperature of 60°, fermentation gra-
dually takes place in it and the very same things occur as in the pro-
duction of wine. The fermentation of wort then is only a particular
case of the vinous fermentation. But wort does not ferment so soon
nor so well, nor does it produce so great a quantity of good liquor, as
when barm or yeast is added to it. The reason of this is probably that
fermentation does not commence till an acid be produced in the wort,
and before that happen part of the saccharine contents are decompos-
ed; whereas the yeast at once furnishes an acid, or at least something
equivalent to an acid.
Wort ferments in close vessels equally well as in the open air: the
decomposition therefore is entirely produced by the substances contain-
ed in the wort, and not by any thing drawn from the air. The quan-
tity of beer produced in close vessels is besides much greater than when
the process takes place in the open air; because in the air a great deal
is carried off by evaporation, and that too of the finer parts. By expe-
riment it was found that 11 quarts, fermented in open vessels, lost in
12 days 40 ounces; whereas an equal quantity fermented in close ves-
sels, for the same time, lost only 8 ounces, or one-fifth of the loss of the
other quantity. Yet the quality of the beer was the same in each as to
strength, for equal quantities of both yielded by distillation the same
quantity of spirit. When beer is distilled, alcohol or ardent spirit is
obtained, leaving behind an acid liquor, the nature of which is still
unknown.
C
A German physician who wrote on the medicinal properties of beer,
in the beginning of the reign of our Queen Elizabeth, about 250
years ago, reports that in his time three kinds of beer were used in
England, the one called single, and the other double beer, and the third
of an intermediate strength between them called three-halfpenny. Be-
sides these liquors was he says a third called ale, made entirely of malt
without hops or any other bitter. This sort was used only by the
more delicate classes of the English nation, and was very heady, and by
no means so wholesome as the other kinds of beer.
4. Of Vinegar. If wine or beer be kept in a temperature between
70° and 90°, they become thick, their temperature augments, filaments
or threads appear to move through the liquors in all directions, and a
kind of hissing noise may be distinguished. These motions after some
time disappear, the filaments attach themselves to the sides and bottom
of the vessel, and the liquor becomes transparent. It has now how-
ever lost its former properties, and is converted into acetous acid or
pure vinegar. The weaker the wine or the beer, the more readily are
they turned into vinegar: but when strong wine or beer are made to
undergo the acetous fermentation, they produce a vinegar much stronger
and better than that made from weak wine or beer. If wine be entirely
deprived of extractive matter, it does not turn to vinegar, unless some
mucilaginous or gummy substance be mixed with it. Old wine that
had deposited all its extract, or crust as we call it, was exposed in open
bottles for 40 days together, to the hot summer sun of the south or
France, and yet never became sour: but when some vine leaves (in
which a little gum always exists) were put into the bottles, the wine
became acid in a few days. Wine never becomes sour, provided it be
completely deprived of all access of atmospheric air. The reason is,
that, during the acetous fermentation, oxygen is absorbed from the air,
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198
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CHEMISTRY.
by which alone vinegar can be formed. Hence we find wine or beer
to be more apt to become sour, after the cork has been drawn, or if
even badly corked, and still more so when part of the liquor has been
poured out, and the air admitted into the bottle in its place. Though
vinegar be chiefly prepared from fluids which have undergone the
vinous fermentation, yet this is not necessary to its production; for
simple mucilage or a watery solution of gum will pass into the acetous
fermentation. When the saccharine principle predominates in any sub-
stance, exposed to the necessary conditions of fermentation, alcohol or
spirit of wine is the product: when mucilage is most abundant vinegar
or acetous acid is produced: and when gluten, (a substance greatly re-
sembling animal matter, found in certain vegetables, particularly in
wheat-flour) is predominant, ammonia will be produced, and putrefac-
tion or the putrid fermentation takes place.
5. Of putrefaction of vegetables. All vegetable substances when left to
themselves are gradually decomposed and destroyed, provided moisture
be present, and the temperature be not much under 45°, nor too high
to evaporate suddenly all the moisture. This decomposition is called
putrefaction, from the Latin term expressing corruption. This process
takes place the most rapidly in the open air; but the contact of the air
is not absolutely necessary: water however is in all cases essentially
requisite.

Putrefaction of vegetables, (for of animal substances we here take no
notice,) is constantly attended by a fetid odour, produced by certain
gaseous matters, differing in quality according to the putrifying sub-
stances. When the whole process is finished scarcely any thing of the
vegetable remains but the salts, the metals, and the earths, of which it
was constituted.
6. Of Gas Light. It was formerly observed, that by gas, a term de-
rived from the German, is understood certain elastic vapours procured
by the action of fire or of fluids on various substances. The gas em-
ployed as the means of producing light, and to illuminate houses, manų-
factories, streets, and whole towns, is drawn from pit-coal. This sub-
stance exists in immense beds in this country, in the western, middle,
and northern parts of England, and in the western, middle, and eastern
parts of Scotland. It consists, like other bituminous substances, of a
'fixed carbonaceous base or bitumen, united to more or less earthy and
saline matters, which compose the ashes remaining behind when the
coal is burnt. The proportions of these component parts vary consider.
ably, in different kinds of coal: and according to the prevalency of one
or other of them, the coal is more or less combustible; passing gradual-
ly from the most inflammable of all, called in England cannel coal, and
in Scotland parrot coal, down to blind or stone coal.
Pit-coal may be divided into several kinds; the 1st composed chief-
ly of asphaltum or bitumen, which take fire readily, and burn briskly
with a brilliant strong blaze, but neither swell nor coalesce into coke in
the fire; requiring no stirring, producing no slag, but burning to light
white ashes. Most of the coals of Lancashire, and the west of England
are of this kind, at the head of which stands cannel coal. This sort is
occasionally found in the Newcastle pits; but the splint and most of the
other Scotch coals are of this lively sort.
The 2d class of coals is composed of those which contain a smaller
quantity of bitumen, and a greater of carbon than the first class; burn-


CHEMISTRY.
199
ing with less brightness, becoming soft and swelling when some time
on the fire, after which they cohere and form coke, throwing out small
jets of flame with a hissing noise. From this coherence the passage of
air through the fire is interrupted, so that the top of the coal requires
to be broken from time to time by the poker. Coals of this kind, of
which the Wallsend are the chief, are excellently calculated for standing
the blast of the furnace or forge. A mixture of two parts of this strong
coal, and one part of the first kind forms the best fuel for all domestic
purposes.
The 3d kind of pit-coal consists of those sorts which are almost des-
titute of bitumen, chiefly composed of carbon combined with much
earthy matter. Coals of this kind require a temperature to set them on
fire inuch higher than any of the former classes: they give little or no
smoke or flame, and consume without caking, leaving but a small
proportion of heavy ashes.
C
Of all these kinds of coal those of the first class, viz. the Lancashire
cannel, and Scotch splint, are the best adapted for conversion into illu-
minating gas. They require less heat to turn them into carbon than
the Newcastle coal, and the gas they yield is readily purified, produc-
ing also a very brilliant white light.
-
When pit-coals are burning in the grate, a flame, more or less bright,
issues from them, and beautiful streams of remarkably luminous flame
are often suddenly and violently thrown out. Besides these flames,
consisting of a peculiar gas in a burning state, the heat expels from the
coal a watery vapour loaded with several kinds of ammoniac salts, a
thick viscid fluid resembling tar, and some kinds of gas not of a corn-
bustible nature. The consequence of all this is that the flame of a coal
fire is continually wavering and changing in shape, colour, and brilli-
ancy. But if coals, instead of being burnt in this way are submitted to
distillation in close vessels, all these component parts may be separately
collected. The bituminous part is melted out by the external heat in
the form of tar; a large quantity of watery fluid is disengaged, but
mixed with oil and different ammonic salts; a large quantity of carbu-
reted hydrogen, (carbon combined with hydrogen one of the compo-
nent parts of water,) and other uninflammable gases make their appear-
ance; and the fixed base of the coal remains behind in the still in what
is called coke. These several products may be all separately collected
in different vessels. The carbureted hydrogen, or the coal-gas, may be
separated from the uninflammable gases, and then made to pass in
streams through small apertures, so that when set on fire it may serve
in the place of candles or lamps to illuminate a room or other place
Thus from our ordinary fuel, pit-coal, may be procured a light copious
lasting and pure: and it is upon the power of collecting the several
products of coal that the system of gas-lights is founded. The flame of
coal in our common fires is turned to very little or rather to no advan-
tage at present: it is not only confined to one single place, the chimney,
where a steady red heat would be much more beneficial; but it is also
smothered by a quantity of incombustile substances carried off from the
coal with it, which notoriously load and pollute the atmosphere we
breathe.



That much inflammable matter is thus lost, is evident from what we
daily observe. Often do we see a flame suddenly break out from the
thickest smoke, and as suddenly disappear: and if a light be applied
200
CHEMISTRY.
to the little jets of vapour issuing from the bituminous parts of the coal,
they will catch fire and burn with a bright flame. A considerable
quantity of gaseous fluid, capable of yielding light and heat, is always
carried up the chimney, whilst another part is occasionally inflamed,
and answers the purposes of the fire.
The production of gas-light, is similar to the action of a lamp or a
candle. The wick of a candle surrounded by the flame is in the same
situation with pit-coal exposed to distillation The office of the wick
is to convey the tallow or wax, by attraction, to the place of com-
bustion. Being decomposed into carbureted hydrogen gas, the tallow
is consumed and flies off; another portion succeeds, and in this way
a constant current of tallow, and maintenance of flame are produced.
The combustion of oil in a lamp is brought about in the same way.
The tubes formed by the substance of the wick serve the same office as
a retort placed in a heated furnace, through which the inflammable li-
quid is transmitted. The oil is drawn up into these burning tubes,
and converted into carbureted hydrogen gas; and from the burning of
this gas proceeds the light of the lamp. The object therefore of the
gas-light plan is, by the means of furnaces and reservoirs, to produce
and preserve for use a quantity of the gas which furnishes the luminous
flame of candles and lamps. This gas is" then to be transmitted to the
desired distance through pipes, at the extremity of which it may be set
on fire, to give light for any specific purpose. The only differences
between this process and that of the candle or the lamp are that, in the
gas system, the furnace for producing it is at the manufactory, whereas
in the candle or lamp it is in the wick,-that the inflammable material
is prepared at the gas station, instead of appearing as tallow, wax or
oil, and that the material is conducted to any convenient distance,
and there set on fire at the end of the conducting pipe, instead of 'be-
ing inflamed at the point of the wick.
Pit-coal contains hydrogen, carbon, and oxygen. When the heat is
arrived at a certain point a part of the carbon unites with a part of
the oxygen, and produces carbonic acid, which by caloric is brought
into the gaseous state, forming carbonic acid gas. At the same time
part of the hydrogen combines with another portion of carbon and ca-
loric, forming carbureted hydrogen gas, which varies in its nature ac-
cording to the circumstances under which it is produced. This last
substance is not obtained from pit-coal only: it is found plentifully
ready-made on the surface of stagnant waters, marshes, wet ditches, &c.
from which air-bubbles may be observed to rise, in hot weather, and
may be increased at pleasure, if the bottom or mud be stirred with a
stick. In a close still evening, if a lighted candle be held near the
surface of such places, flashes of blue dancing flame may be perceived
spreading over it. To this is probably owing the ignis fatuus or Will
the wisp.
To convey to the reader any competent idea of the machinery neces-
sary for the preparation of illuminating gas, from coal or other substance,
would require a number of plates, and an extent of description incom-
patible with the nature of the present work. He will therefore be con-
tented to peruse the following short account of the apparatus at present
employed in different parts of London.
The pit-coal to be distilled, as it may be called, is introduced into a
long narrow iron vessel or retort, of a form nearly cylindrical, but some-
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CHEMISTRY
201
what wider at the mouth than at the bottom. This retort, when the
operation is carried on in a small way, is sunk deep in the coal of a fur-
nace; but when gas is required in sufficiency to light a large building,
a manufactory, a street, &c. several retorts become necessary, which are
laid on their sides over a furnace of which the heat is, by means of
flues, made completely to play round them. The mouth of each retort
is closely stopped up, so that none of the substances produced from the
inclosed coal can possibly escape, excepting through tubes fitted to each
for that purpose. When the inclosed coal is acted upon by the heat of
the furnace, the liquid and gaseous substances driven from the coal
are transmitted, by means of the tubes just mentioned, which rising
perpendicularly are again bent down, into a large horizontal pipe or
main conductor. The distilled liquid is collected in this conductor,
until it accumulate to such a quantity as to flow out through a pipe
inserted near the upper part of one of the ends. By this pipe the va-
porous and condensible fluids are conveyed into the upper part of a
cistern filled with pure water, down through which the pipe descends,
in a winding form, like the worm of a common distilling apparatus.
Cooled by passing through this body of water, the condensible parts
are conveyed into a vessel, situated lower than the issue of the pipe
from the cooling cistern, where they are collected in the form of tar;
while the non-condensible or gaseous parts pass into another vessel,
where they are brought into contact with slaked lime and water. Here
the gas as it proceeds from the distilled coal is deprived of its sulphu-
reted hydrogen, and carbonic acid gas, with which it always abounds,
and is thereby rendered fit for inflammation and illumination. This
being accomplished, the gas so far purified is carried away from the
lime vessel, by a pipe communicating with another which rises per-
pendicularly in the middle of the bottom of the great water-cistern.
The upper end of this pipe is covered by a cylindrical hood, open at
the bottom and pierced with small holes in the sides, and partly im-
mersed in the water of the cistern. Over the surface of the water is
suspended a vessel made of sheet-iron, large enough to go just within
the frame of the cistern. This vessel is closed above but open below,
so that it will sink in the water, when the air within it is allowed to
escape by apertures in the upper surface. It is suspended by a chain
at each end, passing over pullies above, and nearly counterbalanced by
weights, so that a small additional weight or upward pressure will raise
it. This part of the apparatus is called the gasometer, because by its
rising or falling it shows the quantity of gas contained in it. The puri-
fied gas rising through the perpendicular tube in the middle of the cis-
tern, being greatly lighter than the water in the hood or cover, rises
above it, and then escapes through the perforated sides into the great
body of surrounding water in the cistern; up through which it again
rises into the gasometer resting on the surface. Accumulating there, it
gradually elevates the superincumbent gasometer, as long as the distil-
lation of the coal continues to produce gas, which after thus passing
through the lime and a body of water, becomes sufficiently purified for
affording light. To the upper part of the gasometer are adapted pipes
into which the gas there collected enters, and is forced along by the
pressure of the frame, which is therefore a little heavier than the sus-
pending weights. If now a light be applied to the open end of these
pipes, the gas will immediately take fire, and burn with a brilliant
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lively flame, as long as any remains in the gasometer, which will gra-
dually sink down to the surface of the water in the cistern, if the whole
gas be consumed and not replaced by more by continuing the distil-
lation of the coal. The issue of the inflammable gas from the main
pipes, or from any particular branch, is stopped or allowed at pleasure,
by turning a cock near the extremity.


The inflammable gas produced from coal may be preserved in a re-
servoir, where it has no communication with atmospheric air, for any
requisite time; and by opening a stop-cock at the end of a tube con-
nected with the reservoir, and applying a lighted taper or piece of pa
per, it instantly bursts out into a brilliant, noiseless, steady, beautiful
flame. Its purity, when properly managed, is shown by its never
blackening or soiling the opening of the tube from which it flows. No
combustible matter in the gas can escape unconsumed; consequently
no soot or smoke can be produced. The products of the combustion
are water and carbonic acid gas. The water passes off in imperceptible
vapour; and by accurate experiments it has been proved that the car-
bonic acid is produced in far smaller quantities from the flame of coal
gas than from that of oil, tallow, or wax. The gas flame is instanta-
neously extinguished by turning the stop-cock, which cuts off the sup-
ply from the reservoir.


Besides light a very considerable degree of heat is produced by the
gas: this must be sensible to every person who chooses to make the
trial; for the gas flame condenses much more air, and consequently ex-
tricates much more heat than the flame of oil or tallow. From this
valuable property the gas may be exhibited on so large a surface as not
only to illuminate but to warm the most spacious apartments.
The expence of gas illumination, after the first establishment of the
apparatus, is trifling; and this first cost is soon reimbursed by the great
saving in candles or oil, as well as by the value of the tar and coke
duced in the manufactory of the gas.
pro-
CHAP. III.
AGRICULTURE.
Agriculture is the art of making the earth to produce, in the largest
quantities, and in the greatest perfection of which their nature is sus
ceptible, vegetables necessary for the subsistence, or useful for the ac-
commodation of man. It differs from gardening in this respect, that
the gardener is occupied in raising small quantities of the more nice
and delicate vegetables, valued rather as articles of luxury than of ne-
cessary food, whilst the agriculturist works upon an enlarged plan, with
the view of supplying his countrymen, and even other nations, as well
as himself and his family, with the necessaries of life.
To enable the agriculturist, the cultivator, the husbandman, the
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AGRICULTURE.
203
farmer, (for these different appellations all point out the same person
and character) to carry on his business with just hopes of success, his
attention must be directed to other objects besides the mere labour of
the ground and the rearing of vegetables. Such plants as afford nourish-
ment to the human frame are comparatively few in number; nor can
they be profitably produced, year after year, from the same ground.
Hence it is necessary occasionally to cultivate grasses and other vegetables,
unfit for the use of man, but which may, in an indirect way, be render-
ed conducive to his sustenance. Those grasses and other vegetables are
the natural food of cattle; and being thus in some measure converted
into animal substances, they furnish the richest, and most nourishing,
and strengthening food for the human race. Hence it becomes an essen-
tial part of the business of the husbandman to rear and feed those ani-
mals which serve for the sustenance of society. Besides these animals,
however, others not immediately destined for food, demand his atten-
tion, on account of their assistance and utility in the cultivation of the
soil.

From these, and other considerations that will readily occur to the
reader, it will be evident that the business of the husbandman is neither
confined in extent nor easy in nature, that it requires great foresight,
and an intimate knowledge of many important objects around him, of
the soil, the seasons, the animals, the plants, as far as they are connected
with the support of human existence.
It is a fortunate circumstance that the art of husbandry, the founda-
tion of all other arts, is in every respect conducive to the welfare of
those engaged in it. The practice of it bestows health upon the body;
and the variety of its occupations furnishes an abundant employment
for the mind of the humblest persons concerned in it. It has also a be-
neficial effect, in a moral point of view, as it has no tendency to excite
or encourage that spirit of cunning and artifice, which too frequently
degrades the character of persons engaged in the inferior branches of
commercial and manufacturing employment.
The art of the husbandman is unquestionably the most ancient of all.
Scripture informs us that Adam was sent from the garden of Eden to
labour or cultivate the ground, although we are not to imagine that he
immediately understood and practised our methods of digging, plowing,
harrowing, fallowing, and the like. From the earliest accounts of the
nations of the East, agriculture seems to have been carried by them to
considerable perfection. As soon as the descendants of Abraham were
settled in Palestine, they became in general husbandmen, from the
highest to the lowest. High birth and rank made in this no distinction;
for agriculture was considered as the most honourable of all employ-
ments; of which the history of Gideon, of Saul, of David, furnishes
illustrious examples. The Chaldeans who inhabited the country where
agriculture had its birth, carried that art to a high pitch of improvement.
The Egyptians who, from the fertility of their soil, enriched by the over-
flowings of the Nile, raised vast quantities of corn, for the use of other
nations as well as for their own wants, so highly esteemed the art of
the husbandman as to ascribe its origin to Osiris their principal divinity.
It was the practice among the ancient Persians for the kings, once in
every month, to lay aside their grandeur and eat with husbandmen.
The precepts of their religion included the practice of agriculture. It
was even a maxim in their sacred books, that he who sowed the ground
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with care and diligence, acquired a greater degree of religious merit
than he could have done by the repetition of ten thousand prayers.
The ceremonious respect bestowed on agriculture in China is well
known. There the husbandman enjoys many great privileges; while
the trader and the mechanic are held in comparatively little estimation.
In the beginning of the spring of every year, the emperor in person, at-
tended by chief men of the state, repairs to a field prepared for the pur-
pose, and there with his own hands holds the plough and turns up some
furroughs; the princes and nobles do the same after him according to
their rank; then the emperor sows the seeds of wheat, rice, millet and
beans, and covers them over with the soil.
When agriculture was first introduced into Britain, cannot now be
known: but it was practised in Kent and other maritime parts, when
Cæsar invaded the island, nearly nineteen hundred years ago, and in
his opinion it had been introduced by colonies from the opposite shores
of the continent. The establishment of the Romans in this country
produced many improvements in husbandry, so that prodigious quanti-
ties of corn were exported: but when the Roman power began to de-
cline, this and other arts were almost totally overthrown. After the
introduction of the Saxons into the southern parts of the island, in the
year 449, the native Britons were driven into the mountainous districts
where agriculture could scarcely be carried on. Laws were however
made among them for its encouragement, and regulations for its prae-
tice, from which some notion may be formed of its miserable state. It
was enacted, that no man should undertake to guide a plough who
could not make one; and that the driver should make of twisted
willows the ropes by which the plough was drawn. It was customary
for six or eight persons to form themselves into a society for fitting out
a plough, providing it with oxen and all other necessaries. If any per-
son laid manure on a field, with the consent of the proprietor, he was
entitled to the use of the land for one year. If the manure was carried
out in a cart, in great abundance, he was to enjoy the use of the land
for three years together. Whoever cut down a wood, and brought the
ground into arable land, all with the consent of the owner, was to have
the use of the cleared land for five years. If any one folded his cattle,
for one year, upon a piece of ground belonging to another person, and
by his consent, he had the use of the field for four years. The Saxon
princes and great men who, in the division of the lands of the Britons,
received the largest shares, distributed their possessions into two portions,
in-lands and out-lands. The in-lands were those round about the owner's
place of residence, and cultivated by his own slaves for his own use.
The out-lands were those at a distance from his residence, let to the
eeorls or farmers of those days, at very low rents. By a law made in
the beginning of the eighth century, a farm consisting of ten hides of
land was to pay the following curious rent, viz. ten casks of honey,
three hundred loaves of bread, twelve casks of strong ale, thirty casks
of small ale, two oxen, ten wedders, ten geese, twenty hens, ten cheeses,
one cask of butter, five salmon, twenty pounds of forage, and one
hundred eels. The hide of land or plough-gate was as much as could
be laboured with one plough in a year, or as much as would maintain
a family, and computed by some to signify sixty-eight, or one hundred
acres. The value or price of land when sold, even of the best qua-
lity, was at the same period, no more than sixteen Saxon pennies, equal

AGRICULTURE.
205
I
to about four shillings of our present money per acre; a very inadequate
price when compared with that of other commodities at the same time,
when four sheep were equal in value to the price of an acre of the best
land, and one horse equal in value to three acres.
The invasion by William the Conqueror, in 1066, contributed great-
ly to the improvement of agriculture in England, by the settlement of
many thousands of husbandmen, from the fertile and well cultivated
districts of France and Flanders. It was however as late as the begin-
ning of the sixteenth century before agriculture came to be studied in
a regular scientific way, either in England, or on the adjoining regions
of the continent: but in our own times every encouragement from go-
vernments, as well as from public bodies and individuals, has been
held forth, to engage ingenious cultivators to pursue courses of practi-
cal experiment and improvement of an art on which the welfare of so-
ciety so greatly depends. Among these attempts it will be sufficient
to mention the establishment of the Board of Agriculture. About the
year 1790, Sir John Sinclair of Ulbster, in the north of Scotland, baro-
net, invited the clergy of Scotland to furnish him with descriptions of
their several parishes, with a view to the publication of a statistical ac-
count of that kingdom. This request being readily complied with, a
work in twenty volumes octavo, was drawn up from the materials af-
forded, the only work of the kind possessed by any country, containing
with various other useful and important matters, historical, biographi-
cal, and antiquarian, accurate accounts of the agriculture, manufactures,
and population of Scotland. Sir John Sinclair, was at the same time
actively engaged in forming a private association, called the British
Wool Society. Meeting with no small success in these patriotic endea-
vours, he was encouraged to make a motion in the house of Commons,
of which he was a member, on the 15th of May 1793, recommending
the establishment of a public board of agriculture. The measure being
acceptable to the great majority of the house, Mr. Pitt, then chancellor
of the exchequer, gave it his decided support: and without loss of time
a charter was granted for the institution, at an expence out of the pub-
lic purse, not to exceed L. 3000 annually. Of this board the ministers
of the crown, with the archbishops of Canterbury and York, and their
successors in office, are always to be members. The other members
appointed were noblemen and gentlemen, who had distinguished them-
selves for zeal and intelligence in the improvement of husbandry. The
first president was the original projector Sir John Sinclair, and the in-
stitution was intitled the Board or Society for the Encouragement of Agri-
culture and internal Improvement. The regular meeting, of the board for
ordinary business did not commence till the 23d of January 1794;
since which time it has exerted very considerable activity and influence
in establishing correspondence, even with foreign countries, and in
procuring and publishing every kind of useful domestic agricultural
information. One of the first objects of the board was to employ per-
sons of established skill and character, to prepare agricultural surveys
of every county in the island of Great Britain, of which many have al-
ready been published, forming treatises upon the important art of hus-
bandry, in all its branches, which for extent of information and ability
of execution, stand unequalled by similar productions of any age or
country. The board has also obtained rewards from parliament to per-
sons who have made important discoveries, and offered premiums for



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AGRICULTURE.
papers upon subjects connected with the business of the institution,
which have produced a great variety of very ingenious and valuable
disquisitions.
Theory or principles of agriculture. A general view of the principles
of agriculture is naturally divided into two branches: 1st, to enquire
among the vast variety of vegetable productions, what are the particular
kinds that deserve most particularly to be cultivated, and 2dly, to con-
sider the best mode of cultivating with success the kinds thus selected.
1st. Of annual plants cultivated for the food of man, wheat has al-
ways been accounted the most valuable; owing probably to the ease
with which it can be fermented, and so rendered a lighter and more
agreeable kind of bread than that made from any other grain. This
property arises, it is believed, from a quantity of a substance contained
in wheat, of the same nature with the gluten or glue prepared from ani-
mal substances. In other respects_however
In other respects however it does not appear that
wheat is more valuable than some other sorts of grain; for by means of
long boiling a given quantity of barley, or even of oats, the water will
become as thick and full of mucilage or gluey matter, as it would have
been by a similar process with an equal quantity of wheat.
After wheat oats have in many countries been considered as of the
greatest importance for bread-corn, and other human food. The plant
is hardy, grows with little cultivation, and is particularly well suited
for lands newly brought out of a state of nature, upon which it was al-
ways used as the first crop, until the introduction of the turnip hus-
bandry. The meal of oats is usually ground very coarse or in large
grains, and is mixed with a quantity of the inner covering of the seed.
Hence the meal has a considerable degree of roughness which renders
it unsuited to very delicate constitutions: but this very harshness act-
ing on the stomach, produces a feeling of warmth, which renders it ac-
ceptable to persons much exposed to the open air in all seasons, and
accustomed to hard labour, who consider it to be a hearty kind of food.
Some of the healthiest, the most robust and active men, not of this king-
dom only, but of countries situated in corresponding climates on the
continent, subsist chiefly on oat-meal prepared in various ways, alone,
or mixed with rye, barley, &c. reduced to flour.
Barley is chiefly valued for the facility with which it produces a vast
quantity of saccharine or sugary matter, by the process of artificial ve-
getation which we call malting, by which the grain is prepared for mak-
ing vinous or spirituous liquors. Pease are also sometimes used when
ground into meal, as human food: but on account of their viscid or
tough, and consequently indigestible quality, they can never become
valuable in that view, unless to persons of strong habits of body, en-
gaged in the open air in labour of the most severe and active kind.
In general it may be observed, that, in point of quality and whole-
someness, there is not much difference between the various kinds of
grain cultivated in different countries. They are all capable of nourish
ing the human frame, and of preserving it in health and vigour.
Of roots commonly used for the food of man the potatoe has hitherto
been the principal. Others, as carrots, turnips, parsnips, are never used
as the only food, being rather adapted to give variety and relish to
other viands, particularly animal food. The potatoe is, however, in
some respects. an exception; for it contains a large quantity of starch,
not perhaps inferior to the starch of wheat, in as far as that substance
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207
is necessary for nourishment. That potatoes are capable of nourishing
a strong and healthy race of people is evident from the great body of
the natives of Ireland, who have, for a great length of time, subsisted
almost entirely upon that admirable root.
It is worthy of remark, that a crop of all the above mentioned roots
will always produce a much greater quantity of human food than a
crop of any kind of grain whatever, upon an equal extent of ground.
By experiments made in Scotland, it was found that an acre of good
land, which would not produce more than 1280 pounds weight of oat-
meal, would, in favourable seasons, yield from thirty to thirty-five
thousand pounds weight of potatoes; and even in unfavourable years
above twenty thousand pounds. Now supposing one pound of oatmeal
to contain as much nourishment as four pounds of potatoes, still the
quantity of food produced by the potatoes must greatly exceed the
quantity arising from the same extent of equal ground cultivated with
oats. A similar result will be drawn from a comparison of potatoes
with wheat or any other grain.
Potatoes, however, and all the other roots have hitherto been attended
with several great defects. In consequence of their bulk and weight,
from their extreme moisture, their carriage becomes very inconvenient
and expensive. Roots are also incapable of preservation; in winter
they are destroyed by frost; in summer by heat, both which contrary
causes equally render them unfit for human food. Roots are also much
more bulky than grain, in proportion to the quantity of nourishment
they contain: hence they are less fit for persons engaged in sedentary
occupations, who generally find them inconvenient and even hurtful
to the stomach by their bulkiness, and their tendency to counteract
digestion, producing flatulencies and other disagreeable consequences.
On the whole, the difference between juicy roots and the grain of
corn plants seems to be chiefly this, that, although both are formed of
similar substances, the potatoe being related to wheat, the carrot and
parsnip to rye, or rather to barley when converted into malt, yet as the
roots are formed in the bosom of the soil, and are of a loose and wa-
tery texture, their formation requires from nature less effort than the
production of small grains growing in the open dry air, at the top
of a plant. Thus nature by an abundant crop of roots makes up for
the inferior quality of her productions. To remedy this defect in roots
many ingenious methods have been contrived and practised, in order
to deprive them of their superfluous moisture, to bring them as near
as possible to the value of grain in point of quality, while in quantity
they are so much superior: but of those methods it would be im-
possible to give any proper notion, without going into greater length,
and exhibiting more plates than can suit the nature of this work.
2d, Of vegetables for food of cattle. In this inquiry which has
been much less attended to than it deserves, sundry points are to be
considered; namely the wholesomeness of the food with regard to its
effects on the health, the strength, or the fattening of the animals ;-
the quantity of food that can be raised on any given extent of land;-
the quantity of food necessary for the different kinds of cattle;-the
labour and expence of cultivation;--and the kind of soil required to
bring the different sorts of food to perfection, and the effects they
have upon the soil.
With regard to wholesomeness, as the natural food of cattle in a wild
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state must be the green succulent or juicy plants they find all the year
round, food of this kind must be preferable to hay or dried herbage:
and we accordingly find that even animals in a tame domestic state
will always prefer succulent plants to dry food, when they have op-
portunities to do so. To find plants of this sort we must look for
those which continue green all the year round, or which come to per-
fection in winter. Of these plants cabbages seem to hold the first
rank, as being very juicy, and growing in large quantities on a small
piece of ground. On an average of the quantity of cabbages, pro-
duced on an acre of ground, recorded in Mr. Arthur Young's agricul-
tural tour in England, it appeared to be 36 tons. Cabbages however
have this inconveniency that they sometimes communicate a disagree-
able flavour to the milk, and even to the flesh of animals fed on them.
This however may be, in a great degree, prevented by carefully pick-
ing off the decayed leaves; for no vegetable inclines more to putrefac-
tion than cabbage: and for milk-cows they might probably be rendered
fitter food by boiling them.


The turnip-rooted cabbage, and turnips, are of late much cultivated:
and both seem to be most important articles in farming. According to
Mr. Young, the finest soil does not produce above five tons of turnips
per acre; a very great inferiority in quantity to cabbages; but possibly
much less turnip would be consumed by cattle in general than of cab-
bage. An ox weighing 80 stone was observed to eat 210 pounds of
cabbages in 24 hours, besides 7 pounds of hay. Carrots are also
excellent for all cattle, and much relished by them. In rich sand an
acre has yielded 200 bushels: but in a finer soil the protluce was 640
bushels per acre.
A lean hog was fattened by carrots in ten days
time, during which he ate 196 pounds; and his fat was very fine,
white, firm, and did not boil away in dressing. Carrots are prefer-
red by cattle to turnips; and they are probably much more whole-
some food than either turnips or cabbages; the virtues of a carrot-
poultice in cleaning and healing ulcers on the human body, are strikingly
efficacious. It is probably on this account that the milk of cows fed upon
carrots never has any bad taste. Six horses kept on carrots throughout
a whole winter, without once touching corn, performed their work, and
looked as well as usual. In Yorkshire, 20 work horses, 4 bullocks, and
6 milk-cows were fed on the carrots raised upon 3 acres of ground,
from the end of September, to the beginning of May; the animals
never tasting any other food but a little hay. The milk of the cows
was excellent, and 30 hogs were fed upon what was left by the cattle.
Potatoes are also very palatable food for cattle of all kinds; not
only oxen, hogs, &c. are easily fed upon them, but even poultry. The
cheapness of potatoes compared with other kinds of food for cattle
cannot be properly estimated; for besides the advantage of the crop,
the culture of potatoes is of vast service in improving the ground, by
breaking down the soil and clearing it of weeds. A correspondent of
the Bath Agricultural Society, states, that roasting pork was never so
moist and delicate 'as when fed from potatoes, and killed from the barn
door without previous confinement. For bacon-hams, he says, 2 bushels
of pea-meal should be well mingled with 4 bushels of boiled potatoes,
which quantity will fatten a hog of 12 stone of 14 pounds to the stone.
Cows are particularly fond of potatoes: half a bushel at night, and as
much in the morning, with a small quantity of hay, are sufficient to
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AGRICULTURE.
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keep 3 cows in full milk, yielding as much and as sweet butter as the
best grass. A beast of 35 stone will require a bushel per day; but will
fatten one-third sooner than on turnips. The potatoes should be well
washed, and not given until quite dry again. It is not necessary to
boil them, unless for bacon hogs, and poultry. The champion potatoe
answers best of all. For horses and colts the effects of potatoes are
not so well ascertained, although in many cases they have been em-
ployed with great success in the room of oats.
Öther vegetables employed with advantage for green winter food are
buck-wheat, whins or goss, cut down and bruised in a proper mill, and
burnet; but on this last, opinions are divided. The white bect and mar
gel wurzel or root of scarcity have also been strongly recommended, as
well as vetches, lucern, tares, sainfoin, &c. but in general it may be ob-
served that the whole art of feeding cattle, either for work or for the
table, is still as a science but in its infancy; the results of similar ex-
periments, in apparently similar circumstances, being frequently very
different from each other.
•

One important question has long been agitated among agricultur-
ists, namely respecting the comparative profits to be derived from the
cultivation of different vegetables. The husbandman, like every other,
artist or tradesman, must always consider himself as the servant of the
public at large, and must endeavour to raise the vegetables that are
chiefly in request, and that will enable him to obtain the greatest pro-
fit from his land. In forming his plan of husbandry therefore he must
be governed by these two considerations. According to an average of
many parts of England, for three years, one of them a fallow year,
the weight of vegetable food from an acre of arable land was nine times
and a half greater than that from an acre employed in feeding stock.
According to calculations carefully made in Scotland, an acre of land
in pasture fed with sheep produced 120 pounds weight of meat, where-
as the same extent of similar land employed even in oats gave 1280
pounds weight of grain, or nearly eleven times the weight of the meat.
It seems impossible consequently for any nation to arrive at a very
extensive degree of population, unless the people at large consent to
live chiefly or altogether upon vegetable food. In China, where the
practice of the rich and great in having a number of wives, renders
their families very numerous, and where the equal distribution of the
father's property among the children prevents the accumulation of great
wealth by any individual, almost all persons have found it necessary,
or at least convenient, to relinquish the common use of butcher's meat,
and to subsist on vegetable food. And it is only in consequence of
this practice that the prodigious population of China is maintained.
The quantity of butcher's meat consumed in a country therefore will
always set bounds to its population. Nations of hunters, and fishers,
and shepherds, who live upon animals, wild or domestic, are without a
single exception always few in number. By agriculture the numbers
of animals fit for human food may be increased: but the men and fa-
milies who can find employment in rearing them, or food by consum-
ing them, must always be but one-fifth, or one-sixth part of those who
might live upon the same territory, were the cattle removed, and the
lands occupied in raising vegetable food for the immediate service of
man.
..
Britain formerly produced abundance of grain, not only for its own
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consumption, but also for exportation to other countries. When pos-
sessions beyond sea were established this surplus produce gradually fell
off; and it appears from correct statements laid before parliament that,
for a number of years back, notwithstanding all our great improvements
in husbandry, and the quantities of common and waste lands brought
into cultivation, the quantity of grain produced is gradually less and
less equal to the consumption of the country. We are consequently
under the necessity of purchasing more and more largely of grain from
other states of Europe and North America, by which means the agri-
culture of those countries is greatly encouraged and extended. Even
the infant settlements in the vast regions of New Holland, in the great
Southern Ocean, have lately proposed to government at home to remit
part of their superabundance of grain and other articles, for the sup-
ply of the mother country. Still however it is impossible not earnestly
to desire that, in as far as agriculture and its consequent advantages to
the support of population are concerned, we could be restored to our
ancient independence on foreign countries for the staff of life. Such a
state of independence is always advantageous, and often absolutely ne-
cessary for a community: and by agriculture alone, well understood
and duly encouraged, can such an independence be secured.

"Ye generous Britons venerate the plough,
"And o'er your hills and long withdrawing vales
"Let autumn spread her treasures to the sun :
"So with superior boon may your rich soil
"Exuberant nature's better blessings pour
"O'er every land, the naked nations clothe,
"And be th exhaustless granary of the world."
Thomson's Seasons.
Principles of cultivation. A vegetable is not to be regarded merely
as a piece of matter, or only as a mixture of certain material sub-
stances. It is on the contrary a being endowed with organs necessary
for the maintenance of its life, which is derived from another organised
being of the same sort. A vegetable has not only birth from a parent
vegetable, but growth supported and promoted by food, received and
conveyed through its frame by organs adapted to its nature and wants.
When come to maturity in form and constitution, it is able to continue
its species, and then like an animal it decays and finally dies, after
which by the process of putrefaction it returns to the earth from which
it sprung. To the life of vegetables, as to that of animals, the air of
the atmosphere is necessary, as also a certain degree of heat and mois-
ture. They require also to be inserted in the soil, or in some way con-
nected with it; for although we see some plants, particularly bulbous
roots, such as onions, jonquils, &c. vegetating in pure water and air,
without communicating with the ground, yet it appears that they gain
but little addition to their substance, and that neither they nor any of
the larger plants ever come to perfection, or produce seed, unless when
planted in the soil or in communication with it.
As all soils are by no means equally fit for supporting vegetables,
it is necessary for the husbandman to study their nature, and the means
by which they may be altered and improved, until they be proper for ›
his purposes. Besides the hard bodies called stones or rocks, the looser



AGRICULTURE.
211
and more divisible earth, composing the surface of our globe, and called
in general soil, may be arranged under four heads, commonly inter-
mixed with one another, and receiving their name from the substance
in greatest quantity. These four substances are sand, clay, chalk, and
garden mold. Of these sand and clay are, in some measure, the op-
posites of each other, while chalk forms a sort of medium between
them. Sand allows water to filter freely through it, and speedily be-
comes dry, while clay is extremely tenacious of moisture; but a mixture
of chalk renders sand considerably more capable of holding water,
while it renders clay more loose and penetrable by water. None of
these simple soils are valuable in husbandry: sand does not sufficiently
retain water for the use of vegetables, and clay does not allow them
freely to expand and send out their roots and fibres in search of nou-
rishment. Chalk, or as it is commonly called a calcareous soil, is not
by itself proper for raising useful plants: for though it may not have
the mechanical defects of sand or clay, yet it is found to be of little
service to plants, either from its tendency to destroy their substance by
its corrosive and burning quality, as having too strong a chemical af-
finity with the materials of which plants consist, or from its not con-
taining any materials proper for their food. The fourth kind of soil
is called garden-mold, because it is in its highest perfection when it
approaches the nearest to the rich black earth known by that namè.
This mold is the fittest of all kinds of soil for rearing the whole of the
valuable vegetables of our climate; and in proper circumstances, with
a due quantity of heat and moisture, it never fails to send forth and
to bring to perfection an abundant crop. In proportion to the quantity
of this black mold in any soil, its utility and value are increased. Loam
is a mixture of sand and clay. It is proper to warn the husbandman
that if he were able to cover all his possessions with a good depth of
the best garden mold, its productiveness would not be constant. If
crops of grain were taken from it, year after year, it would by degrees
lose its fertile qualities and become unfit for agriculture. And in this
lies the great difference between this compound soil, and the three
simple soils, sand, clay, and chalk. Whatever properties these last pos-
sess are constant, and never perish: they can be changed only by the
application of violent heat. But as it is only by the intermixture of
these simple substances that vegetable soil can be produced, it is a mat-
ter of the most important concern to the cultivator to know the propor
tions in which they are to be mingled, and the means of restoring ferti-
lity to the compound mold when impoverished by use.




"Were a naked rack," says a correspondent of the Board of Agri-
culture," suddenly thrown up from the sea or the bowels of the earth,
the first plants which nature would place on it would be the various
species of lichens or liverwort, and such as can subsist wholly on what
they can imbibe from the air, without needing a soil in which to push
out their roots. These plants serve the double purpose of clothing the
rock, and thus preventing the fine particles dissolved by air and mois-
ture, from being washed away; and from their growth and dissolution
they accumulate vegetable soil for the sustenance of more succulent
plants. The rock is thus gradually made to acquire such a depth of
soil as to fit it for sustaining not only grasses and shrubs, but even the
majestic oak itself." The progress of nature in clothing the barren rock
with vegetation is correctly stated: but for the husbandman something
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I
more must be added. Animal substances, when they have ceased to
form parts of a living body, have a tendency to proceed rapidly to a
state of putrid fermentation, by which the greatest part of their sub-
stance is rendered volatile and flies off in the air. When mixed with
vegetable substances the animal parts quickly communicate their own
fermentation or putrefaction to the vegetables, which then are decom-
posed, fall to pieces, and are converted into that kind of black earth
called garden mold, which is the most fertile of all soils for the produc-
tion of vegetables. It is by this process, that is by the fermentation
of vegetable by means of animal substances, that the surface of our
globe has been fertilised, by a rich black soil produced upon it, as we
can daily see taking place in various situations. No sooner do the
minute lichens or mosses cover the surface of the naked rock, or gra-
vel, or clay, than a variety of small animals appear and feed upon
them. As the plants and animals die in succession, their substances
mingle and occasion the putrefaction before mentioned, which pro-
duces a small portion of soil. Upon the ruins of the former vegetables
arises a new race of plants, of greater strength and bulk, supporting
larger animals than the first; all destined in their turn to perish and to
increase the quantity of the soil. More valuable grasses soon supplant
the original diminutive vegetation, and the spot puts on a face of ver-
dure. New kinds of animals begin to inhabit it: snails, worms, and
insects abound, and by their dead remains contribute to the dissolution
of the roots of plants which every where enter into the new soil, and
to the decomposition of the stems which from time to time fall to the
ground. When the soil has acquired a greater depth it is covered and
sheltered by shrubs, and at last by forest trees, under the shade of
which the largest animals can live and prosper. The trees shed their
leaves every season, and every season will of course contribute an ad-
ditional stratum, or layer, or coat of fertile mold to the soil: then while
the forest endures, the fertility of the ground on which it stands will
be continually augmented by its decay and spoils, and by the bodies of
the animals resorting to it for shelter.
This process by which nature gives fertility to the earth, ought to
be imitated by the husbandman; and it has in all ages been imitated,
rather from experience and observation of facts than from speculations
of science. In what way however, or by what peculiar operations, this
kind of mold composed of fermented and putrefied animal and vegetable
substances, becomes so highly conducive and subservient to the growth
of plants, are points of no common difficulty in their solution: but for-
tunately such inquiries are comparatively of little importance to the
practical agriculturist. He knows that by repeating the application of
fresh vegetable and animal substances, in a state of fermentation, or be-
ginning putrefaction, he can restore the powers of production to the
exhausted soil, and that by no other process can its wonted fertility be
recovered and rendered effectual.
L
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•



Among the methods employed for the improvement of land, one per-
haps the most useful is its pulverization, or separating as much as pos-
sible the minute particles of the soil from one another.
This is chiefly
done by repeated ploughings, especially when done in autumn, that
the ground may be exposed to the action of the winter's frost. This
must however be understood within certain bounds; for it would ap-
pear from experience that many light and thin soils receive hurt and not
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}
advantage from frequent ploughings, especially when applied in sum-
mer, when the sun draws off the nutritive particles in great abundance,
and thereby impoverishes the soil. The ground may also be broken
and separated into small parts, by planting such vegetables of which
the roots swell to a considerable bulk. The ground is acted upon in
all directions by the swelling and pushing of the roots; so that the ef-
fects of the growing crop may fully equal those of repeated ploughings,
with this great advantage that the crop itself may yield great profit,
whereas from often ploughing alone, no profit whatever can immediately
arise. The plant most remarkable for the swelling of its root is the
po-
tatoe; and by none is the ground so much bettered: but potatoes are
not proper for all sorts of soil. In clay, which stands the most in need
of the separation of its particles, they neither thrive nor are good for
food; but in hard gravelly or sandy soils they grow to a large size, and
are of an excellent quality. Turnips also meliorate the ground by the
swelling of their roots; but lying ncar and sometimes upon the surface,
they are less useful than potatoes, although they thrive in any sort of
soil. It has been practised in many places of England to sow turnip,
pease, buck-wheat, &c. and when grown up, to plough them down as
manure for the land. This being similar to the process of nature, in
fertilizing uncultivated soils, cannot fail to be of great service; and
might be reckoned preferable to the driving of manure to the field, were
it not attended with this great disadvantage that by so doing a whole
year and the crop are both sacrificed.
?

Practice of Agriculture.
This part of the art of husbandry naturally divides itself into four
branches, 1st, of the most useful instruments employed in the labour of
land, and in the preparation of its various productions: 2d, of the mode
of preparing land for cropping, by removing obstacles to cultivation,
and bringing the soil into a proper state: 3d, of the culture of particular
plants, and the practices connected therewith: and 4th, of the principles
and operations of the new or drill and horse-hoeing husbandry.
1st. Of the implements of husbandry. Of these there are a great
variety; but the most common implements are ploughs of various de-
scriptions, adapted to particular soils and situations of land, as well as
to the animals employed in working them. The Sward-cutter original-
ly intended to prepare old grass ground for the plough, by cutting it
across the ridges in winter when the ground is soft: it is also very useful
in fitting ground for burning-bating, and in cross-cutting clover of one
or two years' standing, as a preparation for wheat, when the land is stiff
and moist enough. In preparing for barley the sward-cutter excels a
roller of any kind, in reducing the large hard clods in clay land, com-
monly formed by sudden drought after it has been ploughed in wet
weather. One of these machines will cut as much ground in one day,
as 6 ploughs can work in the same time.-The cultivator is an instru-
ment intended to pulverize stiff soils that have been once ploughed, in
a manner more complete and expeditious than can be done by any other
instrument.-The brake is a large and weighty harrow for reducing
strong and stubborn lands, where a common harrow makes little impres-
sion. The ordinary harrows of different forms and uses.-The roller,
of capital use in husbandry; but in general so light and slight as to

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>
have very little effect. The fallow-cleaner for the purpose of grubbing
up chicks and other hurtful weeds from fallow grounds. The sowing
machines, when made of a simple construction, and consequently easily
managed, and not liable to be put out of order, are of signal service in
sowing seeds with great equality,
2d. The next head relates to the preparation of land for crop, by re-
moving obstructions and bringing the soil into a proper state.
The re-
moval of stones is an operation of the utmost importance, for by them
more expence is incurred in a season, by the injuries done to ploughs
harness and cattle, besides loss of time, than would have been sufficient
to remove the obstructions. The stones which interrupt improvements
in land are either loose or thrown up by the plough, or such as seem
to sit fast in the ground, and are too large to be moved by ploughing.
The first sort may be gathered by the hand, and carried off the field;
for they ought never to be laid down in heaps, but removed to places
where they may be accessible for future purposes; if not in walls, yet
in fences and drains, of which they are the most essential parts.
Large or sitfast stones sometimes appear above the surface, and at
others are entirely covered by the soil. Previous to breaking up waste
land or common, in districts where large unwieldy stones are suspected
to be concealed, it will be useful to go over the whole ground, thrusting
into it a sharp iron prong, at least a foot deep, at the distance of every
15 or 18 inches, marking the spot where the iron runs against a stone,
which is to be removed before the plough touch the land. One method
of getting large stones on the surface out of the way of the plough is to
dig a hole by the side of the stone, large enough to hold it and 18 or
20 inches deeper than its lower side. By a number of men the stone
may be pushed over into the pit, where it will lie entirely below the
touch of the plough. By this method, however, the stones, which
might otherwise be of great value, are quite lost. For removing large
blocks of stone, a machine is used in some parts of Scotland, which
works upon the principles of the pulley and cylinder, or of the wheel
and axis, having a power as one to twenty-four. The machine is ex-
tremely simple, being the common triangle or rather tripod of three
poles meeting at the top, used for raising or weighing large and heavy
bodies, to two sides of which the cylinder is applied; and a low four-
wheeled carriage is brought under the arms of the triangle, to receive
the stone when raised up: three men can work the machine, and re-
move it from place to place. When a field is over-run with concealed
stones, however, the most effectual way to get rid of them, and to
render the field perfectly arable, is to trench it entirely over with the
spade. Nor is this way the most expensive, because by trenching the
ploughing is saved, and the soil is deepened to the utmost extent
which can be required, finely broken down and pulverised, and laid
out in the best form for cultivation.


+

Draining. Moisture is of the utmost importance to the success of
vegetation at the same time, as must be the case with every power-
ful and active agent, the too great abundance of water is no less per-
nicious to many plants than the total want of it. When it stagnates
upon the soil, water decomposes or rots the roots and stems of the
most valuable vegetables: even when it does not remain the whole year
round, its temporary stagnation during winter renders the land unpro-
ductive. For these reasons draining is of high importance, in order
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}
to render the land manageable, and to dry it gradually and early in
the spring, by which the corn will be increased in quantity and weight,
and by which in pasture grounds the grasses change their dull colour
and coarse appearance, and the finer kinds of plants are enabled to
flourish. Even the climate is very sensibly improved by draining the
land: for in winter it is less cold, and in summer vapours and exhala-
tions are diminished, so that its wholesomeness to both animal and
vegetable life is greatly increased. All kinds of grain come sooner to
maturity; harvest is less precarious; and diseases produced by a damp
soil and a moist atmosphere disappear.
The methods of draining land must be adapted to the causes of ex-
cessive moisture, according as it arises from stagnating rain-water, or
from springs, or reservoirs in the bowels of the earth. To remove
stagnating rain-water two sorts of drains are used, the open and the
hollow drains. Open drains are exposed to view in their whole length;
but hollow drains are entirely covered, so as to be imperceptible, and no
land is lost upon their surface. Hollow drains are nevertheless often
avoided, on account of the great expence of their construction; besides
that in certain situations they would answer no good purpose. Clay
soils cannot be drained by hollow channels; because such is the tenacity
of the particles of clay, that water never filters or penetrates through it
so far as to reach the drain: in soils therefore of this nature open drains.
alone should be employed. Soils consisting of tough tenacious clay are
best drained by laying them up in ridges high in the middle, with fur-
rows on each side, to receive and carry off the water; and the ridges
and furrows should be so directed and managed that all the superfluous
moisture should find its natural way to a common ditch or drain pre-
pared to receive it. In Flanders, and in those parts of England where
clay prevails, the usual way is to plough up the land in high broad
ridges, 20, 30, and even 40 feet broad, having the middle or crown 3
or 4 feet higher than the furrows on each side. By this practice, and
keeping the side-furrows free from standing water, the land is kept dry,
and crops of all sorts flourish. In some rich strong clay soils in Scot-
land, common drains are carried through the district in various direc-
tions, to receive and carry off the water to the nearest river. Other
ditches surround every farm, or pass through them, as may be necessary;
but still communicating with every field of the farm. These ditches are
from 2 to 4 feet wide at top, and from 14 to 1 foot at bottom: a shape
which prevents the sides from sliding down. As it seldom happens,
even in clay levels, that any field is so perfectly even and flat as to be
free from every inequality of surface, the last work, after the land is
sown and harrowed in, is to draw a furrow with the plough, through
every hollow, making a communication with the nearest ditches. When
this track is once opened with the plough, it is widened, cleared out,
and so shaped with the spade: as to run no risk of filling up.
The
width is from 6 to 12 inches, according to the depth: but the breadth
of the common spade at bottom is generally sufficient. In plantations
open drains only can be used: because the roots of the trees would
be apt to choke up close or hollow drains. In pastures, small narrow
cuts made with the plough or otherwise, are extremely useful: if they
be easily stopt by the feet of the cattle, on the other hand they are as
easily restored.
C
Hollow drains in which the water flows among loose stones or other
*
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* 216
AGRICULTURE.
materials, through which it can easily pass, while they are covered with
a bed of earth in which the plough can be carried on, bear a near re-
semblance to the natural mode by which water flows through layers of
porous substances, in the bowels of the earth, and coming to the sur-
face at different points, furnishes springs and the constant stream of
rivulets and rivers. The practice of hollow draining is very ancient.
In many parts of the interior of Asia, particularly in Persia, the inha-
bitants are supplied with water in their fields, by means of hollow drains,
of the construction of which they are alike ignorant of the age and of
the method. The oldest Roman writers on country affairs make men-
tion of hollow drains, describing the manner of placing, digging, and
filling them, very much in the way used in the present day.
When a field to be dried lies much on a slope, great care should be
taken to make the hollow drains in a direction so nearly horizontal or
level as to prevent a too rapid fall of the water, which would in time
wear the bottom, and have the effect to choak or, as it is usually cal-
led, to blow up the drain, and so occasion springs of water to break out
in the field. With respect to the season for draining no precise rules
can be laid down, so much depending on the nature of the ground, the
general state of the weather, the plenty and cheapness of labourers to
do the work, and other circumstances on which the experienced farmer
is best able to decide.
•
4TU

The depth and width usually adopted for hollow drains are very va-
rious. When the practice first came into use three feet were commonly
allowed for the depth: but for many years past the depth seldom exceeds
30 or 32 inches; indeed more drains are made only 24 or 26 inches
deep than of any other dimensions. One general rule however must
never be overlooked, which is to sink the bottom of the drain so far be-
low the surface, that the materials covering it, or filling it up, may run
no risk of being injured or deranged by the feet of horses or cattle walk-
ing in a furrow while ploughing. For this purpose a depth of 2 feet is
probably too little: a horse's foot in a furrow usually sinks four inches
at least: if ten inches be allowed for the thickness of the materials in
the drain, there will remain only ten inches of ground to support the
foot of a horse exerting all his strength in the act of ploughing, which
upon soft loose soil seems hardly sufficient. Where flat stones can be
had, or when it is worth the charge to employ flat broad bricks or tiles,
one method is to lay a tile or stone as the bottom of the drain, and two
others upon it, meeting together at top so as to form a triangle. At
other times the stones are reversed, two of them meeting together in
the bottom, and their upper edges covered by a third, still forming a
triangle, but the base uppermost.
The materials used for filling drains are various: stones however of a
certain size are the most common, and likewise the most durable of all.
When stones from the quarry are employed in a drain formed like a
conduit, the trench should, at the bottom, be 16 inches wide, to con-
tain two side stones about six inches asunder, and the same in height,
with a cap or flat stone laid over to secure the cavity. Such hollow
drains are necessary for constant runs of water from springs; only they
are the most expensive. But in common drains, where loose stones
whether large or small are thrown in promiscuously, the stones ought
to be perfectly free from clay or earth, and of the hardest quality that
can be procured; that they may have as little tendency as possible to
ACRICULTURE.
217
3
break or crumble down with the water, and so fill up and choak the
open spaces between them. When land is very wet, or has not much
declivity, there should in general be two main drains, down the slope or
fall of the ground, to one acre: for the shorter they are the less are they
liable to accidents. The width of the trench for the main drain should
be 30 inches at top; but that of the bottom must be governed by the
kind of materials to be used in filling it up. When the drain is to be
made of large bricks, 10 inches long, 3 inches thick, and 4 broad, the
bottom of the drain must be 12 inches: but when common sale bricks
are used, the breadth must be proportionably diminished. In both cases
an interval of one inch should be left between the bottom brick and the
sides of the trench, to be filled up with straw or rushes. It is to be re-
membered that even in the firmest and hardest ground, as clay or marle,
the bottom ought always to be covered with stone or brick as well as in
loose soft soil. for no natural bottom will long resist the constant flow of
the water, however gentle the current.
Not only stones and bricks, but also wood and other materials are
used for filling drains. When filled with wood, and covered with straw
or rushes, drains are more serviceable than when filled with stones; for
as the wood decays the water still continues to pass without interrup-
tion, whereas stones must in time moulder down, forming hard earth
which will at length stop all passage for the water. Again, as bushes
form a much greater number of cavities than either stones or poles, they
encourage filtering more and longer than any more solid materials. For
filling drains the black thorn has been found, on long experience, to be.
preferable to any other material. Wood is often used in this manner :
two billets are placed leaning with one end on one side of the bottom of
the trench, and the other leaning against the opposite top or side, so
that the two nearest billets form a St. Andrew's cross, or the letter X.
The upper part of the cross is then filled with brush-wood laid length-
wise, with straw cross-wise over it, and the mould covering all. In-
stances of this drain have been known in Scotland to flow for 30 years.
This practice has been introduced into Wales; and on it the author of
the report given of the county of Caermarthen to the Board of Agricul-
ture, makes the following remarks. "The completest method of
draining, I have yet known, is to cut the strongest willows or other
water brush-wood, into lengths of about 20 inches, and to place them
alternately in the drain, with one end against one side of the bottom,
and the other leaning against the opposite side. Having placed the
strong wood in this manner, I fill the space left between them, on the
upper side, with the small brush-wood, upon which a few rushes or
straw being laid, the work is done. Willow, alder, ash, or beech
boughs are exceedingly durable, if put into the drain green, or before
the sap is dried; but if they are suffered to become dry, and are then
laid in the ground, a rapid decay is the consequence. I have seen wil,
low taken out of a bog, after lying there 30 years, and its bark was as
fresh and sappy as if it had been lately cut from the hedge; and it is well
known that beech laid green in the water, will continue sound for any
length of time."
In many parts a serious obstruction to agriculture arises from the
existence of mosses. On the origin of mosses many opposite opinions
have been given; but it seems to be this. What are called moss plants
amount to about 300 in number. They are extremely hardy, and will
FF

218
AGRICULTURE
:
flourish in the coldest, bleakest situations, provided only they have
abundance of stagnating water. When these plants have risen to some
height, the lower parts of their stems continually soaked in the water,
cease to vegetate, and then give out their juices to the water around
them. As moss plants are extremely astringent, and contain large
quantities of the tanning principle, the water acquires so much of this
quality as to prevent all putrefaction in the stems of the plants and
moss water has even been used with advantage in tanning hides, in
the same way as oak bark. In the mean time young plants spring up
from the tops of the old ones, until the standing water ceases to ac-
company them, without which they cannot live. In this condition the
upper parts of the plants exposed to the air, go through the ordinary
process of corruption like other vegetables, and in time are turned in-
to a sort of soil, upon which a few plants and animals are found; while
at a small depth below the surface of the stagnating water, the stems
and stalks of the original moss plants continue to soak in their own li-
quor, and are thus preserved from corruption. Mosses are not how-
ever always natural productions: they are also produced by human
operations. In almost all our mossy grounds great numbers of trees are
found, like the lower parts of moss plants, steeped and soaked in the
water, but not rotted. The trees found in mosses exhibit perhaps the
original sorts produced in this country: in them are found oak, elm,
birch, willow, alder, fir, hazel, heath, &c. If it be supposed there-
fore, that in ancient times forests were cut down and suffered to re-
main on the ground, particularly in hollow or level situations, a stagna-
tion of water, and bleakness of climate would infallibly ensue, moss
plants would spring up and form a peat bog, in which multitudes of trees,
shrubs, and plants would be preserved in the astringent liquor.
1
There are two ways in which ground covered with moss may be
brought under the plough. The one is to remove altogether the mossy
substance, or the whole remains of the plants which have been accumu-
lating for ages, and then to cultivate the under soil. The other is to
convert the substance of the moss itself into vegetable mould fit for
bearing crops of grain. Where a command of smart running water can
be had, the most economical method of getting rid of the moss has
been found to carry open drains of good size through the moss, and to
throw the substance into the stream, by which it is carried off, and the
useful under soil is laid open for cultivation. In improving the mossy
surface itself, no application has been found so serviceable as lime
spread over the surface. Even in places where the surface of the moss
had been pared off and burnt, the grain was by no means equal to what
was raised on parts covered with lime, which besides other effects is a
most deadly enemy to heath.
In improving a moor in its natural state, it should be opened, if pos-
sible, in winter, when it is wet, which has this convenience that the
plough cannot then be employed elsewhere. It is here however sup-
posed that the moisture has been previously carried off by draining. În
spring, after the frost is gone, a slight harrowing will fill up the inter-
stices with mould, to keep out the air and rot the sod. Thus it may
lie during the following summer and winter, which will tend more to
rot the turf than if laid open to the air by ploughing.
In the ensuing
April it should be cross ploughed, braked and harrowed, till it be suf
ficiently pulverized for turnip-seed, to be sown broadcast or in drills,




AGRICULTURE
210
after being manured, and the manure well mixed with the soil by re-
peated harrowings. It sometimes happens however that the heath
growing upon a moorish soil is so strong and vigorous as to be very
difficult to subdue. In such a case, after land is drained, and the heath
is burned upon the surface, the plants may be extirpated by sheep,
which are extremely fond of the tender shoots and flowers, but will not
touch heath after it has run to seed. The most effectual mode of era-
dicating heath however is by spreading quick lime over the ground; a
strong dose of burning lime therefore laid upon new land, after it is
first ploughed, is attended with the best effect, in consuming the roots
of heath and coarse grasses, and rendering the soil brittle and free
which effects the lime will produce in half a year. But although a very
considerable quantity of lime be necessary upon land newly brought in,
yet something more is still requisite: to render the soil permanently
fertile it will soon be needful to assist it by vegetable and putrid manure.
The turnip crop may be consumed by sheep upon the ground, which
will afford excellent preparation for laying it down with grass seeds; a
point of great importance to the farmer. It is even said to answer per-
fectly well to take three or even four crops of turnips in succession, all
eaten off in the same way. No manure will be needed for the two
succeeding crops; and the soil will be greatly thickened and enriched.
Of different kinds of soil, and the plants proper for each.
It was formerly observed that soils may be divided into sand, clay,
and chalk, with garden mould, a compound of the other three.
1. Clay is in general the stiffest of soils, and of an unctuous nature:
but under the term' clay various kinds and colours of earth are includ-
ed. One sort is so obstinate that scarcely any thing will correct it:
another is so poor and hungry that it swallows up whatever is applied,
and turns it into its own quality: but in general the fattest clays are
the best. All clays however retain the water on their surface, which
chills the plants, without sinking into the ground. The closeness of
clay also hinders the roots and fibres from spreading out to find nour-
ishment. Blue, red, and white clays, when strong, are unfavourable to
vegetation; the stony and loose sorts are less so; but none of them are
of any use until their substance is so loosened by a mixture of other
materials, and opened so as to admit the sun, the air, and the frost.
Among the manures for clay, sand is esteemed the best, especially sea
sand, which the most effectually breaks the cohesion of the parts of the
clay. The reason for preferring sand from the sea is this, that it is not
composed entirely, as other sands are, of small or broken stones and
rocks, but contains a great deal of calcareous matter, such as shells
broken and pounded down by the action of the tides, winds, and cur-
rents, and also a quantity of salt. The smaller or finer the sand, the
better it mixes with the clay, but its effects are less durable. Shell
marle, ashes, all animal and vegetable substances are useful manure for
clay: but they always answer best when mixed with sand. Lime has
often been applied to clay; but when alone it is perhaps of no real
service.
The crops most suitable for clay soils are wheat, beans, cabbages,
ryegrass. Clover seldom succeeds in clay, nor indeed any sort of plant
of which the roots require to spread through the soil.
1
AGRICULTURE.
.220
2. Chalk is generally a dry and warm soil, and fruitful when there is
a tolerable depth of mould; producing abundantly barley, rye, pease,
vetches, clover, trefoil, burnet, and particularly sainfoin. When the
surface is thin this soil requires good manuring with clay, marle, loam,
or dung. As chalk lands are dry they have this advantage that they
can be sown earlier than others. When the barley is the height of three
inches, throw in 10 pounds of clover or 15 pounds of trefoil, and roll
it well. The next summer mow the crop for hay: feed off the aftermath
with sheep, and in winter give it a top dressing with dung. This will
produce a crop the second spring which should be cut for hay. When
this crop is carried off, plough up the land, and in the beginning of
September, sow three bushels of rye per acre, either to feed off with
sheep in the spring, or to stand for harvest. If it be fed off, then sow
winter vetches in August or September, to be made into hay in sum-
mer. Then get the land into as fine tilth as possible, and sow it with
sainfoin, which with a little manure, once in two or three years, will
produce good crops for twenty years together.
3. Light poor land seldom produces any thing good, but when well
manured. After it is well ploughed sow three bushels of buck-wheat
per acre in April or May: when in bloom let the cattle in upon it, for
a few days, to eat off the best, and tread down the other: this done,
plough in what may remain immediately. This will soon ferment and
rot in the ground: then lay it fine, and sow three bushels of rye per
acre. If this crop can be got off early enough, sow turnips; if not, sow
winter vetches for hay. Then get the land into good tilth, and sow
turnip-rooted cabbages in rows 3 feet asunder. This plant will seldom
fail, and it will be the best spring feed for cattle, especially if it has
been horse-hoed.

4. Light rich land being the most easy to cultivate, and capable of
bearing most kinds of grain, pulse and herbage, little need be said
up-
on it. It is however to be noticed, that such lands are the fittest for
the new or the drill husbandry. This soil, if not given to produce
couch grass, is the most proper for lucerne, which in two feet drills,
and kept clean, will yield an astonishing quantity of excellent herbage.
5. Coarse rough land. Plough deep in antumn, and when it has
lain a fortnight, cross-plough, and let it lie rough all winter. In March
give it another good ploughing; drag, rake, and harrow it well, to get
out the rubbish; then sow four bushels of black oats per acre, if it be
a wet soil, but white oats if it be dry. When four inches high roll
them well down after a shower, which will break the clods, and the
fine mould falling among the plants will greatly promote their growth.
CULTURE OF PARTICULAR PLANTS.
The preceding observations are only preparatory to the great busi-
ness of a farm, which is to raise plants for the nourishment of man,
and other animals. These plants are divided into culmiferous and legu
minous. The culmiferous plants are such as have a smooth jointed
stalk, usually hollow, and wrapped about at each joint with single nar-
row sharp-pointed leaves, and have their seed contained in husks.
Wheat, rye, barley, oats, rye-grass, are culmiferous plants. Leguminous
plants are those in which the seed is contained in a pod, as pease, beans,
vetches, clover, cabbage, &c.
AGRICULTURE.
221
I. Plants are all cultivated for one of three things; for their fruit,
their roots, or their leaves. Of those raised for their fruit are,
1. Wheat and rye. At any time from the middle of April, to the
middle of May, the fallowing for wheat may begin. The time should
be chosen when the ground, beginning to dry, has still some remaining
softness; for then the soil will readily give way to the plough, and fall
into small parts. Ground ploughed very wet rises whole fur as it is cal-
led, or in great lumps not easily broken down even by after ploughings.
A clay soil requires high ridges formed by beginning to plough at the
outer furrow, and ending at the crown. This ploughing ought to go as
deep as the soil will allow, and water furrowing should follow immedi-
ately. About the first week in June the great brake will loosen and re-
duce the soil, encourage the growth of a second crop of yearly weeds
in plenty, if the first ploughing was well done, and bring up to the
surface the roots of the weeds loosened by the plough. The second
ploughing should come on in the beginning of July, when the weeds
are well up; and this should be carried across the ridges, in order to
reach all the slips of the former labour. Employ the brake again about
the 10th of August to destroy weeds, which is a most important but
much neglected point in fallowing. The field is now ready for manure,
whether lime or dung, which ought to be directly incorporated with the
sail by a repeated harrowing, and a gathering furrow. This will fall
in the beginning of september, and the seed should be sown as soon
after as can be done.

As in ploughing a clay soil it is of consequence to prevent poaching
the ground, the hinting furrows ought to be drawn with two horses in
a line.
Loam, or a medium between sand and clay, is the fittest soil for cul-
ture, and the least liable to accidents: but it is more subject to weeds,
especially couch-grass, than clay; and to destroy these fallowing is still
more necessary for loam than for clay.
A sandy soil is too loose for wheat. The only chance for a crop from
it is after red clover, the roots of which bind the soil. Rye is much fit-
ter than wheat for a sandy soil; and like wheat it is usually sown after
summer fallow.
In general the beginning of October is the best time for sowing
wheat: if sown a month earlier it is too forward in the spring, and apt
to be hurt by the frost: when much later it has not time to take root
sufficient before the frost comes on, which forces it out of the ground.
Setting of wheat is by some reckoned one of the greatest of modern
improvements in husbandry. It was first suggested by an experiment
in a garden ; but about 40 years ago, a small farmer near Norwich, tried
it on a larger scale, on near an acre of land. The trial was imitated by
only a few of his neighbours: but as their crops were larger, their corn
better, and a great saving was made in seed, their example gradually
made a powerful impression. It is remarked, that set crops appear thin
during autumn and winter, but in the spring the plants side-shoot, and
spread out prodigiously. The ears are indisputably larger, without any
small dwarfy corn; the grain is larger and heavier per bushel than
what comes from sown wheat.
The method of setting wheat is this. The lands on which it succeeds
best are either after a clover stubble, or those on which trefoil and grass
seeds were sown in the spring before the last. The grounds, after the
4

222
AGRICULTURE.
>
nsual manuring, are once turned over by the plough, in a long extend-
ed flag or turf, at ten inches wide, along which a man called a dibbler,
with two setting irons, somewhat bigger than ramrods, but consider-
ably thicker at the lower end, and pointed at the extremity, steps back-
wards along the turf, making holes about four inches asunder, every
way, and an inch deep. Into these holes the droppers, (women, boys,
and girls,) drop two grains of wheat, which is quite sufficient. After
this a gate bushed with thorns is drawn by one horse over the land, to
close up the holes. By this mode three pecks of grain are sufficient for
one acre and the grain being immediately and completely covered, is
equally secured from birds and frost. The regularity with which the
wheat rises gives the best opportunity of keeping it clean by weeding
or hand-hoeing. This practice is particularly beneficial when wheat
is dear. One farmer in Norfolk found the crop when set to be two
bushels more upon the acre, than when sown: besides having much
less small corn intermixed with it, the sample is better, and always
some shillings per quarter better price. This way of setting wheat
has this great advantage that it saves to the farmer, and consequently
to the public, six pecks of seed on every acre; which if universally
adopted in this country would suffice to feed half a million of people.
To these considerations we must add the great support afforded to the
labouring poor, by this second harvest work. The expence of setting an
acre has been reduced to ten shillings, which in good weather may be
executed by one dibbler and three droppers in two days. This is five
shillings per day: and if the dibbler give to each of the three children
droppers six-pence, he will still have three shillings and six-pence for
his own day's work; much more than he could earn by any other
labour so easy to himself. And in the case that a man has a wife to
dibble along with him, and two or three of his children to drop, his
gains, it is evident, will be prodigious, and sufficient to ensure plenty
of hands for the work.
.


A very important experiment is related in the Philosophical Transac-
tions of the Royal Society of London for 1768, concerning the advan-
tages of propagating wheat, by dividing and transplanting the roots.
On the 2d of June 1766, some grains of common red wheat were
sown on the 8th of August a single plant was taken up and separated
into 18 parts, when each part was again planted separately. These
new plants having pushed out several side-shoots by the middle of
September, some of them were taken up and divided, and the rest of
them between that time and the middle of October. This second di-
vision produced 67 plants. They all remained through the winter, and
another division of them, made between the middle of March and the
12th of April, produced 500 plants. No further division was made.
The plants were in general stronger than any of the wheat in the fields;
some of them produced upwards of 100 ears from a single root: many
of the ears measured 7 inches in length; and contained between 60
and 70 grains. The whole number of ears which, by this process, were
produced from one single grain of wheat was 21,109, yielding 3 pecks,
and 3 quarters of clean corn, weighing 47 pounds 7 ounces; and by a
calculation founded on the number of grains in one ounce, the whole
number of grains must have been about 576,840. By this account it
appears that only one general division of plants was made in the spring
had a second been made, the number of plants, it was computed,
لے
AGRICULTURE.
223
would have been two thousand instead of five hundred. The ground
where this experiment was made was a light blackish soil upon a gra-
velly bottom, and consequently bad for wheat. One half of it was
dunged, and the other half had no manure: there was not, however,
any difference discoverable in the strength, growth, or produce of the
plants.
On this very curious and interesting scheme it must be evident that,
however advantageous in many important points of view, the vast la-
bour and consequent expence attending it on a large scale, and in va-
rious parts of the country, must perhaps for ever prevent its being
brought into general practice.

Norfolk culture of wheat. Perhaps in no part of the kingdom is wheat
cultivated with more care, and brought to more perfection, than in
Norfolk. The greatest part is sown upon a second year's ley; some-
times upon a first year's, at others upon summer fallow, or after pease,
turnips, buck-wheat, harvested or ploughed down. The second year's
leys having brought the stock-cattle and horses through the fore part
of summer; and the first year's leys being ready to receive his stock,
the farmer begins to break up his old land or ley ground, by a peculiar
mode of cultivation called rice-balking, in which the furrow is always
turned toward the unploughed ground, the edge of the coulter always
passing close by the edge of the flag last turned. In this state the leys
remain till the end of harvest, when he harrows and afterwards ploughs
them across the balks of the former ploughing, bringing them now up
to the full depth of the soil. On this ploughing he immediately har-
rows the manure, ploughing it in with a shallow furrow. Thus the
land lies till seed-time, when it is harrowed, rolled, sown, and gathered
up into ridges, commonly of six furrows.

In Norfolk, the farmers never begin to sow wheat till after the 17th
of October, and continue sowing to the beginning of December, and
even later; giving as a reason for this late sowing that wheat treated in
this manner is less apt to run to straw than what is sown earlier. The
seed is generally prepared with brine, and candied with lime. To pre-
pare
the seed they dissolve the salt in a very small quantity of water,
barely sufficient for the purpose. The lime is slaked with this brine,
and the, wheat candied with it in its hottest state, having been previ-
ously moistened with pure water. Wheat prepared in this way is
found by experience to be more free from smut than when any other
preparation is employed.
2. Oats. Winter-ploughing is a necessary part of the culture of oats.
Providence has neglected no region intended for human habitation.
In warm climates the soil is meliorated and improved by the heat of
the sun in cold climates it is no less meliorated by frost. Frost acts
upon water by swelling and expanding it so as to occupy a larger space.
Many a bottle has been burst by the swelling of the frozen liquor
within it. Upon earth or sand perfectly dry frost, for this reason, has
no effect; but upon wet earth it acts most vigorously, expanding the
moisture, which requiring more room, moves all the particles of earth
out of their place, and so separates them the one from the other. In
this view frost acts infinitely better than any plough that can be made
by man: its action reaches the very smallest particles of the soil, par-
ticularly in tilled land, which being opened freely admits the frosty air.
With respect to clay soils in particular there is no rule more essential
224
AGRICULTURE.
than to open it before winter, in expectation of the frost. It is even
advisable in a clay soil to leave the stubble rank; for when it is plough-
ed in before winter, keeps the clay loose, and admits the frost into
every chink and cranny of the soil.
A loamy soil requires much the same dressing with clay, only that
being less injured by wet it does not require high ridges, and there-
fore ought to be ploughed crown and furrow by turns.
A gravelly soil being the reverse of clay never suffers but from a
want of moisture; it should therefore have no ridges, but be ploughed
circularly from the centre to the circumference, or from the circum-
ference to the centre. It ought to be tilled after harvest; and the
first dry weather in spring should be laid hold of, to sow, harrow, and
roll, which will keep it in sap.
The culture of oats is the simplest of all: being probably an original
native of Britain, they grow on the worst soil with very little prepara-
tion. For this reason, before the introduction of turnips, oats were
always the first crop upon land just broken up from a state of nature.
Oats are particularly cultivated in the western division of the vale of
Yorkshire, where the soil is chiefly a rich sandy loam, unproductiye of
wheat. Five or six bushels, or even a quarter of oats are sometimes
sown upon an acre: the produce being from seven to ten quarters.
The market is therefore very great for oats in West Yorkshire; the
manufacturing districts there, and in the adjoining parts of Westmore-
land, Lancashire, Derbyshire, &c. using principally oaten bread.
❤

In the papers of the Bath Agricultural Society it is recorded that, on
a farm near Bristol, the prodigious increase of 98 Winchester bushels
was obtained from 4 bushels on the acre. The land was a deep mel-
low, sandy loam: it had carried potatoes the foregoing year, and receiv-
ed one ploughing for winter fallow. Another ploughing was given in
February, and the seed was sown on the 27th and 28th of that month.
The striking success of this experiment was supposed to be owing part-
ly to the early sowing, and partly to a good deep tillage.
3. Barley. This plant requires a mellow soil: so that extraordinary
care is necessary when it is to be sown on clay. The land ought to be
stirred immediately after the foregoing crop is removed, that it may be
laid open and mellowed by the air and frost. With a view to this effect
a peculiar sort of ploughing has been introduced called ribbing, by
which the greatest surface possible is exposed to the air: but to this
method it is objected that by it one half of the ridge is left unmoved.
To remedy this great defect, the following method is strongly recom-
mended. As soon as the preceding crop is off the field, let the ridges
be gathered with a furrow as deep as the soil will permit, beginning at
the crown, and ending at the furrows. Such ploughing loosens the
whole soil, and gives free access to the air and frost. Soon after this
operation begin a second ploughing in this way. Let the field be di-
vided by parallel lines, thirty feet asunder, across the ridges. Plough
once round one of these intervals between the lines, beginning at the
edges, and turning over the earth towards the middle of the interval;
which will cover a foot or so of the ground formerly ploughed. With-
in that foot plough another round similar to the former; and so on with
other rounds until the whole interval of thirty feet be finished, ending
at the middle. Or instead of this the ploughing may begin in the mid-
dle of the interval, and end at the edges. As by this work the furrows



AGRICULTURE.
995
of the ridges will be pretty much filled up, let them be cleared and
water-furrowed without loss of time. In this way the field is kept per-
fectly dry; for besides the capital furrows that divide the ridges, every
ridge has a number of cross furrows, to carry the rain directly to the
former. If the ground be clean, it may lie in this state, through winter
and spring to the time of seed-furrowing. If weeds rise, they must be
destroyed by ploughing, or breaking, or both; for there can be no
worse husbandry than to put the seed into dirty ground.
When land is in good order and free from weeds, the month of April
is the most proper for sowing barley, every day from the first to the
last. The best soil, according to Norfolk farmers, for barley is that
which is dry and healthy, rather light than stiff, but yet of sufficient
strength to retain the moisture. On land of this sort the grain is al-
ways the best bodied and coloured, the nimblest in the hand, and has
the thinnest rind; qualities strongly recommending it to the maltster.
If the land be poor it ought at least to be dry and warm: for when so it
will bear better corn than richer land in a cold and wet situation.
In choosing seed-corn observe that the best is of a pale lively colour,
and brightish cast, without any redness or black tinge at the tail. If
the rind be a little shrivelled, it is the better; for that shrivelling proves
it to have a thin skin, and to have sweated in the mow. The necessity
of changing the seed, and not sowing two years together the barley
that
grew on the same soil, is in no part of husbandry more evident
than in this grain, which if not frequently changed, will grow coarser
and coarser every succeeding year.
It has generally been thought that seed-barley is benefited by steep-
ing: but liming has in many instances been found prejudicial. Sprink-
ling a little soot into the water in which it is steeped has been of great
service in securing the seed against insects. In a very dry seed-time,
barley that has been wetted for malting, and begins to sprout, will come
up sooner, and produce as good a crop as any other.
The county of Norfolk is peculiarly adapted to the cultivation of
barley, the strongest soil not being too heavy, and the lightest being
able to bear it: and so skilful are the farmers there in its management,
that the barley of Norfolk is desired for seed, all over the kingdom.
Barley is there sown after wheat or turnips; and in some very light
lands it is sown after the second year's ley. After wheat, and the wheat
sowing in other parts of the farm being finished, the stubble is trampled
down with bullocks, and the land ploughed with a shallow furrow, for
barley. In the beginning of March, the land is harrowed, and cross-
ploughed. In April it receives another ploughing lengthwise, and at
seed-time it is harrowed, rolled and sown, the surface being rendered
as smooth and even as possible. After turnips the soil is broken up as
fast as the turnips are taken off, if early by rice-balking before explain-
ed, but if late by a plain ploughing. With respect to barley it is to
be remembered, that in its culture so much depends on the nature of
the soil, so much on the preparation, so much on the season of sowing,
so much on the harvesting, that of corn crops, barley is the most dif
ficult to be cultivated with certainty of success.
4, Buck-wheat delights in a mellow sandy soil: but it succeeds well
in any dry loose healthy land: a stiff clay is its aversion; and it is en-
tirely lost labour to sow it on wet poachy ground. The proper season.
for sowing it is in the end of May, or beginning of June. In an ex-
G G
1
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226
AGRICULTURE.
periment upon a small piece of land two crops of buck-wheat were
raised in the summer of 1787. After spring-feedings, or a crop of
turnip-rooted cabbage or vetches, there will be enough of time to sow
buck-wheat. From experiments made in the vicinity of Bath and
Bristol, it would seem that the culture of this plant ought, in many cases,
to be adopted instead of summer-fallowing: for the crop produced not
only appears to be so much clear gain, in respect of that practice, but
it affords a considerable quantity of straw for fodder and manure; be-
sides that a summer-fallowing is far from being so advantageous a pre-
paration for a succeeding crop.
5. Pease. This plant is of two kinds, the grey and the white: the
latter belongs properly to the garden and table: it is with the former
that the farmer is chiefly concerned. Of the grey pease there are two
sorts, distinguished by their time of ripening. One ripens soon, and is
called hot seed: the other, which ripens later, is called cold seed. Pease,
a leguminous crop, comes in very properly between_two culmiferous
crops, not so much for the value of the pease produced, as for the me-
lioration of the land. In a dry season, pease make good returns; but
they are very precarious: hence in a moist climate, such as the western
parts of Britain, red clover seems to be more beneficial, as it makes as
good winter food as pease, and may be thrice cut green in a summer.
A field intended for cold seed ought to be ploughed in October or
November; and in February as soon as the ground is dry, the seed
should be sown on the winter furrow. For hot seed the ploughing
may be done in March or April, immediately before sowing. Should
the ground however be infested with weeds it ought, as in the former
case, to be also ploughed up in October or November.
Pease laid a foot below the surface will vegetate, but the best depth
is six inches in light soil, and four inches in clay soil: for which rea-
son they ought to be sown under furrow, when the ploughing is de-
layed till spring. Of all grain, beans excepted, pease are the least in
danger of being buried. Pease differ from beans in loving a dry soil,
and dry season. Horse-hoeing would be a great advantage: but pease
grow fast, and soon fall over on the ground, so as to prevent plough-
ing. Notwithstanding this a farmer in the south of Scotland began,
some time ago, to sow his pease in drills, and never failed to have great
crops of grain as well as straw. He sowed double rows a foot asunder,
and two feet and a half between the double rows, so as to admit horse-
hoeing. In Norfolk leys are seldom ploughed more than once for
pease; and the seed is in general dibbled in upon the flag of this
single ploughing: but stubbles are generally broken by a winter-fallow
of three or four ploughings; the seed being sown broad-cast, and
ploughed in about three inches with the last ploughing.
6. Beans. The most proper soil for beans is a moist and deep clay:
but they may also be raised upon any heavy soil. They are cultivated
in two ways, either in the old way by broad-cast, or in the later way
by drilling in distinct rows. When the broad-cast is to be used, as
beans are sown early, the ground should be ploughed before winter,
to admit the air and frost so necessary to clay soils. In February when
the weather is dry, loosen the soil with the heavy harrow, to bring on
a mould, then sow the seed, and cover it in with the second harrow.
The third harrow will smooth the surface, and cover the seed equally.
As beans delight in á moist soil, and have no end to their growth in
a
•
AGRICULTURE.
927
a moist season, they totally cover the ground when sown broad-cast,
keep in the dew, exclude the sun and air; consequently the plants
grow to a great size, but they bear little seed, and that little is never
well ripened. This displays the advantage, and even necessity of dril-
ling beans, which gives free access to the sun and air, dries the sur-
face, and affords plenty of well grown ripe seed.
II. Plants cultivated for their roots.
1. Potatoes. Next to grain, potatoes may be looked upon as the crop
the most generally useful for the husbandman: for they afford a most
excellent food, not only for cattle, but for the human species; and they
are perhaps the only substitute that could be used for bread, with any
prospect of success. The choice of soil is more important in the cul-
tivation of no plant than in that of the potatoe. In clay or rank black
loam, lying low without free access to air, potatoes never make palat-
able food. In a gravelly or sandy soil, exposed to the sun and air,
they thrive to perfection, and have the best relish: But a rank black
loam, though improper for raising potatoes for the table and human
food, produces them in great abundance; and the roots are an accept-
able and palatable food for horned cattle, hogs and poultry.
As two great advantages of a drilled crop are the destruction of weeds
and the obtaining of a fallow at the same time with the crop, no judi-
cious farmer will now think of raising potatoes in any other way. In
September or October, as soon as the year's crop is removed, the field
should have a rousing furrow, then a cross-braking, and lastly be clear-
ed of weeds by the cleaning harrow. Form it into three feet ridges,
and let it lie till April, which is the proper planting time for potatoes.
Cross-brake it to raise the furrows a little, then lay well-digested dung
along the furrows, upon which lay the roots at eight inches distance.
Cover up these roots with the plough, going once round every row.
This makes a warm bed of dung below, and a thin loose covering above,
that admits the rays of the sun. As soon as the plants appear above
ground, go round every row a second time with the plough, to lay up-
on the plants an additional inch or two of mould, and at the same time
to bury all the annual weeds; this will complete the ridges. When
the plants are six inches high, the plough with the deepest furrow should
go twice along the middle of each interval, in opposite directions, lay-
ing the earth first on one row and next on another: indeed for this pur-
pose a plough with a double mould-board, would be the most expediti-
But as the earth cannot be laid close to the roots by the plough,
the spade must next be employed, to cover four inches of the plants.
In weeding potatoes, a hoe should never be used, for it cannot go so
low as to root out the weeds without at the same time injuring or de-
stroying the fine long fibres of the potatoe, on the growth and extent of
which the hopes of a crop depend.
ous.
When potatoes are raised as a preparation for wheat, it is best to
have the rows two feet two inches from each other, hand-hoeing only
the space from plant to plant in each row, then turning a small furrow
from the inside of each row, by a common light plow; and afterwards
with a double-breasted plough and one horse (to split the ridge formed
by the first ploughing,) thoroughly clean the intervals.
Potatoe sets should be cut a week before they are planted, with one
*****
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228
AGRICULTURE
or two eyes to each, and the pieces not very small: two bushels of fresh-
slaked lime should be thrown over the surface of the land, as soon as
planted, which will effectually prevent the attacks of the grub.
It is of importance to know not only how to raise potatoes, but how
to preserve them. When taken out of the ground lay in the corner of
the barn a quantity that may serve till April, covered from frost with
straw pressed down, bury the rest in a hole dug in the ground, mixed
with the husks of dried oats, or sand, or the dry leaves of trees, over
which build a stack of hay or corn. When the pit is opened to take
out the potatoes, the eyes of such as have a tendency to shoot must be
cut out; and this quantity will serve all the month of June. To bę
still more certain of making the old crop meet the new, the setting of
a small quantity of potatoes may be delayed till June; to be taken up
at the ordinary time before frost. These not having then arrived at
their full maturity when they are taken up, will not be so ready to push
as what are set in April.
Should the old crop however be exhausted before the new be quite
ready, the interval may be supplied by the potatoes of the new crop,
which lie next the surface, to be picked up by the hand; and this far
from hurting the coming crop will rather improve it.
Among the variety of modes proposed to prevent the disease among
potatoes called the curl, the following is lately given in that most uɛe-
ful practical work the Farmer's Magazine published periodically at
Edinburgh, but sold in all principal towns of the kingdom, A corre
spondent in that publication says, that, in order to vary the seed, which
is considered as the most effectual prevention of the curl, he used what
is called potatoe beans, a dark brown substance, larger than a horse
bean, growing near the ground, on the hulm or stem of the potatoe
plant and, as is supposed, occasioned on places where the stem has been
broken or injured, These beans are shaped like potatoes, having a
number of eyes, from one of which grow two small leaves. Some of
these bodies, were planted a few years ago, merely to see if they would
grow, when they produced a great number of common sized potatoes,
but of a bad quality. These potatoes however being cut in the usual
way, and planted next year, produced potatoes of an excellent quality,
and in great plenty. They are planted and treated in every respect
like the others; and ever since, the cultivator never had occasion for
any other change of seed, but what he could raise yearly from the
beans.



I
2. Turnips delight in a gravelly soil; and there they are raised to the
greatest perfection, and with the least hazard af miscarriage: at the same
time there is no soil which will not bear turnips, if it be well prepared.
No person ever deserved better of any country than he who first culti-
vated turnips in the field. No plant is better suited to the climate of
Britain, no plant prospers better in the coldest parts of it, none con-
tributes more to fertilize the soil. Of all roots turnips require the finest
mould; wherefore of all harrows a good frost is the best. To give ac-
cess to the frost, the land ought to be prepared by ribbing after harvest,
as was shown in speaking of barley. If the land be subject to annual
weeds, they must be destroyed by braking in April, and again in May.
In the first week of June plow the field with a shallow furrow; lim-
ing it, if necessary, and harrowing the lime into the soil. Draw single
furrows with intervals of three feet, and lay dung in the furrows.


AGRICULTURE.
229
Cover the dung sufficiently by going round it with the plough, and
forming the three-feet spaces into ridges. Thus the dung comes to lie
below the crown of every ridge. The season of sowing must be re-
gulated by the intended time of feeding; if this be for November,
December, January, and February, the sowing should be all the first
three weeks of June: if the feeding be for March, April, and May, the
sowing need not be done till the end of July. Turnips sown earlier
flower that same summer and run to seed, so as to be in a great mea-
sure unfit for food: if sown much later they do not apple, and there is
no food but from the leaves. Though by a drill plough the seed may
be town of any thickness, yet the safest way is to sow thick; that the
erop may stand the ravages of the black fly, and still leave a sufficient
crop behind. Thickness of turnips is also a protection against drought,
gives the plants a rapid progress, and settles them well in the ground,
before it becomes necessary to thin them.
The sowing of turnips in broadcast, almost universal in England, and
not yet entirely banished from Scotland, is still a very bad practice.
The eminent advantage of turnips is this, that, besides being a profitable
crop itself, it makes a most complete fallow: and this last can never
be obtained but by horse-hoeing: wherefore the sowing of turnips in
rows three feet asunder is recommended. Wider rows are unnecessary,
and narrower leave no room for a horse. When the plant is four inches
high annual weeds will appear. Then go round every interval with
the slightest furrow possible, two inches from each row, moving the
earth from the rows towards the middle of the interval. A thin plate
of iron should be fixed on the left side of the plough, to keep the earth
from falling back, and burying the turnip. Next, let women weed the
rows with their fingers, which is better done, and even cheaper than
hand-hoeing. The hand-hoe besides is apt to disturb the roots of the
turnips that are to stand, and to leave them open to drought, by taking
the earth from them. Those that are to stand should be twelve inches
asunder in the rows, a distance found to be the most advantageous.
In weeding turnips with the fingers, children under thirteen years of
age may be employed; above thirteen, hand-hoes suited to their size
and powers are excellent implements, both for the work and the la-
bourers; for they strengthen the arms of young persons amazingly.
In driving the plough the legs only are exercised: but as the arms are
chiefly employed in husbandry, those parts ought to be prepared before-
hand, by gentle exercise.
In cultivating turnips care should be taken to procure a good bright
nimble well dried seed of the best kind. The Norfolk farmers general-
ly raise the oval white, the large green-topped, and the red or purple-
topped kinds, which from long experience they have found to be the
most profitable. The seed of turnips, like that of grain, will not do well
without frequent changing. Norfolk seed is sent to all parts of the
kingdom: but after two years in other quarters it degenerates, so that
to have the turnip in perfection, it becomes necessary to get the seed
fresh every year from Norwich: because London seedsmen, knowing its
value, have been tempted, it is said, to substitute in its place other infe-
rior seed raised near the metropolis.
1

The value of turnips as a crop may be estimated from this fact. An
acre of land contains 4840 square yards, or 43,560 square feet: sup-
pose then each square yard to contain only one turnip, and that on
230
ACRICULTURE.
an average each turnip should weigh only two pounds: here will be a
mess of food of an excellent nature, amounting to 46 tons weight on
one acre, and worth from four to six guineas. Extraordinary crops of
barley frequently succeed turnips, when properly fed off the land, by
confining the cattle with hurdles to as much as is sufficient for them for
one day. For then the crop is eaten clean, nothing is spoiled by their
feet, and the soil is equally trodden down and manured.
A very erroneous notion prevails that mutton fattened with turnips is
rank, and ill tasted: on the contrary it is only upon rank pastures, and
marshy lands that rank mutton is produced.
To preserve turnips, for late spring seed, the best method is to stack
them up in dry straw, one load of which is sufficient to preserve 40 tons
of turnips: it is done in this way. After drawing your turnips in Feb-
ruary, cut off the tap roots and tops, (which may be given to sheep,)
and let them lie a few days in the field, as no weather will then hurt
them. Then on a layer of straw next the ground place a layer of tur-
nips two feet thick, then another layer of straw, and again one of tur-
nips alternately, until you bring the heap to a point at the top; taking
care to turn up the edges of the layers of straw, to keep the turnips
from rolling out: cover the top well with long straw hanging down,
to serve as a thatch to the whole. In this way the dry straw sucks up
the moisture rising from the roots, and all vegetation is prevented; and
the turnips will be nearly as good in May, as they were when first
drawn from, the ground. To prevent all this trouble and expence,
however, farmers would find it their interest to continue sowing tur-
nips on to the latter end of August; by which means their late crops
would remain good in the field till the end of April, and often till the
middle of May.
On the comparative advantage of different vegetables for feeding sheep
the following remarks are given by the Bath Agricultural Society.
"When sheep are allowed as many turnips as they can eat, (which
should always be the case when they are fattening,) they will, on an
average, eat near 20 pounds each in 24 hours. An acre of turnips twice
hoed will, if the land be good, produce about 50 tons, which will main-
tain 100 sheep 52 days. The sheep here mentioned weighed 20 pounds
a quarter. An acre of turnip-rooted cabbages will maintain 100 sheep
for a month, and sometimes five weeks: but an acre of Scotch cab-
bages will maintain 200 sheep a full month."


The greatest disadvantage of a crop of turnips is that they are so
ready to be darnaged by the fly, which sometimes destroys them so
completely as to require the field being sown over again twice, and even
thrice, in the season. Innumerable methods of avoiding this evil have
been prepared, which may all be comprehended under these heads.
1. Steeping the seed in various liquids. 2. Fumigating the fields with
the smoke of certain herbs. 3. Rolling, and 4. Strewing soot, lime,
ashes, &c. over the ground. It is however very difficult to determine,
whether these applications are really of any use: because sometimes the
turnips are not injured, though no preparation is used, and when this
happens after preparations, the effect is generally, but perhaps untruly,
attributed to the preparation. From a number of experiments on steep-
ing the seed, it was found that such as was steeped in linseed and train
oils was much more free from the fly, than the other seed steeped in
other substances. Fumigation has perhaps never been tried on a large
AGRICULTURE.
231
scale: nor in fact does it at all seem practicable in that way. Little uti-
lity can be expected from either rolling or the strewing of substances over
the ground. The only methods that promise to be really useful are to
sow the turnip so early as that the plants may be well grown, before
the fly make its appearance, and to sow such a quantity of seed as will
be more than sufficient for the consumption of the insect.
3. Carrots. Of all roots carrots require the deepest soil, which ought
to be all good for the depth of a foot at least. If the farm contain no
such ground, it may be made artificially, by trench-ploughing, which
brings up to the surface the soil which never before had any communi-
cation with the sun or the air: and this soil improved by a crop or two
with dung, will be fit for growing carrots. It is to be remembered that
no dung whatever should be laid on, the year in which the carrots are
sown, for in that case they would seldom escape rotten scabs. The only
soils for carrots are loam and sandy ground. The ground must be pre-
pared with the deepest furrow possible, the sooner after harvest the
better; immediately on the back of which a ribbing should follow as for
barley. At the end of March or beginning of April, which is the time
of sowing the seed, the ground must be smoothed with a brake. Sow
the seed in drills, with intervals of a foot for hand-hoeing, when the
ground is small, but with intervals of three feet for horse-hoeing when
the field is extensive; because in that case hand-hoeing would become
too expensive. Carrots have been greatly recommended as food for cat-
tle, and in this respect they bid fair to rival potatoes; but for human
food they are much inferior. As a substitute for oats to horses the use
of carrots is every day gaining ground. By the quantity of sugar they
contain, they are probably very rich, and stimulating to the stomach
of that delicate animal, so that a less quantity of it goes to waste than
of any other food. The use of carrots in the dairy is thus described
by an experienced farmer of Essex. "In our dairies as many carrots
are bruised before churning, as produce (when squeezed through a
cloth into as much cream as makes eight or ten pounds of butter,) a half
pint of juice. This adds somewhat to the colour, richness, and favour
of winter butter: and we think, where hay is allowed besides, contri-
butes much to counteracting the flavour from the seed of turnips. At
present (our carrot seed being exhausted,) from turnips and hay, with
this juice, our butter is equal to that of the Epping dairies.”
.
4. Parsnips. This root has never, in this country, received from
husbandmen the attention to which it is well entitled, from the ease with
which it is cultivated, and the great quantity of saccharine or nourish-
ing matter it contains, in a much greater proportion than in almost any
other vegetable with which we are acquainted. To cultivate parsnips,
so as to make them advantageous to the farmer, it will be right to sow
the seed in the autumn, immediately after it is ripe. By this course
the plants will appear early in the spring, and get strong before the
weeds can rise to injure them. Neither the seeds nor the young plants
are much injured by frost, on which account, as well as many others,
the autumn sowing is preferred to the spring. The best soil for pars-
nips is a rich deep loam; and next to this is sand. They thrive well in
a black gritty soil; but not in stone-brash, gravel, or clay: they are al-
ways largest in the deepest earth. When the soil is proper they re-
quire little manure. The seed may be sown in drills 18 inches asun-
der, that the plants may be hand or horse-hoed: and they will be more


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232
AGRICULTURE.
luxuriant if they undergo a second hoeing, and are carefully earthed, so
as not to cover the leaves. Parsnips ought not to be planted by dibbling,
as the ground becomes so bound as seldom to admit the small side-
fibres to fix in it, and so prevents the root from coming to its proper
size. The same remark is applicable to the dibbling of carrots. Pars-
nips, if not superior, are at least equal to carrots, for fattening pigs, as
they make the flesh whiter, and the animals themselves are more fond
of them than of carrots. Horses eat parsnips greedily, when clean wash
ed and sliced down among bran, and thrive well upon them: black cat-
tle likewise eat them with relish. In the British island Jersey, on the
coast of France, parsnips have long been considered of the highest im-
portance. There they have been known for centuries past, and they
are preferred by the inhabitants to every other root for fattening cattle
and pigs. The cattle fed on them yield a juicy delicious meat: the pork
and beef of Jersey are among the best in Europe: and it is remarked
that the beef is always best in those months of the year when the cat-
tle feed on parsnips. Cows fed with hay and parsnips in winter give
butter of a fine yellow hue, of a saffron tinge, and as excellent as if
they fed on the most luxuriant pasture.
III. Plants cultivated for leaves, or for both leaves and roots.
1. Turnip-rooted cabbage may be reckoned the next in value to the
turnip itself; because it affords food for cattle late in the spring, and
resists mildew and frost. In the first or second weeks of June, the same
quantity of seed is sown, the plants are hoed at the same size, they are
left at the same distance from each other, and they are treated in every
respect as if the crop consisted of turnips. To raise the turnip-rooted
cabbage for transplanting, the best way is to breast-plough and burn as
much old pasture as may be judged necessary for the seed-bed: two
perches well stocked with plants will be sufficient to plant an acre.
The land should be dug as shallow as possible, turning the ashes in,
and the seed should be sown in the beginning of April. The land in-
tended for the plantation is to be cultivated and dunged, as for the com-
mon turnip. About midsummer, or sooner if the weather be favour-
able, is a proper time for planting. The land is thrown into one-bout
ridges, upon the tops of which the plants are set, at about 18 inches
asunder from each other. As the weeds rise hand-hoeing is used: af-
terwards a plough is run through the intervals, fetching a furrow from
each ridge, which after lying a fortnight or three weeks, is again thrown
back to the ridges. Should the young plants in the seed-bed be at-
tacked by the fly, wood-ashes thrown over them will effectually prevent
their ravages. By an experiment made it was discovered that a turnip-
rooted cabbage, measuring 18 inches round, weighed 54 pounds, and a
common turnip of the same girth weighed only 3 pounds. This ex-
periment was made in March: but had the roots been weighed at
Christmas, the difference would not have been so great; and this is one
of the advantages of the cabbage, that it keeps its juices, and nourish-
ing qualities for a much longer time than perhaps any other vegetable.
A
2. Swedish turnip, or roota baga. Great expectations have been
formed upon this plant; which is said to be hardier and of greater
sweetness and solidity than the common turnip. It also preserves its
·

AGRICULTURE.
233
1
A
" I con-
freshness, and juiciness to a very late period of its growth, even after
it has produced seed. This peculiarity has been doubted by many, and
not without reason; but its reality seems now to be sufficiently ascer-
tained by trials. One person who tried the Swedish turnip, says, it be
gins to send out its flower-stems in the spring, nearly about the same
time with the common turnip; but the root, notwithstanding that
change in the state of the plant, suffers very little alteration.
tinued to use these turnips," says he, "at my table every day till to-
ward the middle of May; and had I never gone into the garden my-
self, I should not even then have suspected, from the taste or appear-
ance of the bulb itself, that it had been shot at all. The stems however,
at the season when I gave over using the turnip, were from four to five
feet high, and in full flower. The most profitable way of consuming
this plant, where it is to be kept very late, I am convinced would be to
cut off the tops with a scythe or sickle, when from 12 to 18 inches
high, to induce the plant to send out fresh stems, that will continue soft
and succulent to the end, whereas without this process the stems be-
come sticky and useless.”
3. Turnip Cabbage is a plant yet but little known; and has a much
nearer relation to the cabbage than to the turnip. The seed came ori-
ginally from the Cape of Good Hope, from whence the Dutch drew it
long ago. It is a very hardy plant, bearing our winters as well, not
to say better, than our common broccoli, and may therefore be regard-
ed as a valuable acquisition to the kitchen garden as well as for cattle.
The best time for sowing it for the garden is the end of May, or the
beginning of June, though none of the plants have ever been observed
to run to seed, though sown ever so early. Even when sown in
August, the greater part stand throughout all the following summer,
and do not seed till the second spring. The bulb is inclosed in a thick
fibrous rind: but it has been found that sheep not only penetrated
through this hard tough rind to get at the turnip, but even devoured
the greatest part of the rind itself.
4. Cabbage has by long experience been recommended as an excellent
food for cattle. Its uses as human food are too well known to need any
recommendation. Cabbage is easily raised, it is subject to few dis-
eases, resists frost better than turnip, is palatable to cattle, and sooner
fills them than turnip, carrot, or potatoe. If cabbage be intended for
feeding cattle in November, December, and January, plants from seed
sown in the end of July the preceding year, must be set in March or
April. If for feeding in March, April, and May, the plants must be set
the first week of the foregoing July, from seed sown in the end of
February, or the beginning of March of the same year. The late set-
ting of the plants keeps back their growth, so that they shoot out vi-
gorously in the following spring.
In one of the papers of the Bath Society, Scotch cabbages are com-
pared, as to their utility in feeding cattle, with turnips, turnip-rooted
cabbage, and carrots. In this trial the Scotch cabbages stood next in
value to carrots: with this advantage that, if they be of the true flat-
topped firm kind, they are not liable to be affected by frost. No less a
quantity than 54 tons have been raised upon one acre of land, not worth
more than 12 shillings. There is a particular advantage attending the
feeding of cattle with cabbages, which is that the manure from them
is much more in proportion than when cattle are fed on turnips which
HM
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1

234
AGRICULTURE.
run most to water, or on hay which has too little moisture. Cabbages
also impoverish the ground much less than grain. Cabbages may also
be planted, without any fresh ploughing, on lands where a late crop of
turnips has failed.
Cabbages and greens in general are liable to be infested with cater-
pillars: they may, however, be protected against vermin by taking off
the large undermost leaves, to be given to cows in August, or when the
large white butterflies begin to appear in numbers, which deposit their
eggs on the under side of the largest leaves of the plant. Another re-
medy is said to be useful, which is to sow beans among the cabbages;
for it is believed that butterflies have an antipathy to the flavour of beans,
and will therefore avoid cabbages planted near them.
5. The root of scarcity, or betacicla, delights in a rich loamy land well-
dunged. It should be sown in rows or broadcast, and when the plants
are the size of a goose quill, transplanted in rows 18 inches asunder, and
18 inches between the plants in the row. The best time for sowing is
from the beginning of March to the middle of April; it is however ad-
visable to continue the sowing every month to the beginning of July,
in order to have a succession of plants. Of this plant, both leaves and
roots are praised as excellent for both beast and man: it is said also not
to be liable like turnips to be destroyed by insects. Horned cattle,
horses, pigs, and poultry are exceedingly fond of it when cut small.
The leaves may be gathered every 12 or 15 days: they are from 30 to
40 inches long, and from 22 to 25 inches broad. It is excellent for
milch cows, when given in due proportion, as it adds much to the qua-
lity, as well as the quantity of the milk: but care must be taken to pro-
portion the leaves with other green food, otherwise it will abate the
milk, and fatten the cows too much, it being of an exceedingly fatten-
ing nature. What the due proportion is, however, has not yet been ac-
curately ascertained by proper experiments.

Culture of Grasses.
On a branch of agriculture so extensive, as well as important, it would
be idle to attempt, in our narrow bounds, to give any detailed observa-
tions: all that can be done therefore is to lay before the young hus-
bandman a few general remarks and advices, on the art of making
and improving lands, for the use of cattle of all sorts.
The latter end of August, or the beginning of September is the best
season for sowing grass seeds, as there is then time for the roots of the
young plants to fix themselves in the ground, before the frost set in. It
is scarcely necessary to say, that moist weather is the best for sowing
grass seeds, as the weather being then warm they will vegetate im-
mediately but if this season prove unfavourable, the sowing may be
deferred till the middle of March following.
:
If you would have fine pasture never sow on foul land; on the con-
trary plough it well and clear it from the roots of couch-grass, rest-
harrow, fern, broom, and all other noxious weeds. Rake them up in
heaps to be burnt on the land, and spread the ashes as manure. These
ploughings and harrowings should be repeated in dry weather; and if
the soil be clayey and wet, make some under-drains to carry off the
water, which, if suffered to remain, will not only chill the grass but
AGRICULTURE.
235
make it sour. Before sowing, lay the land as even, level, and fine as
possible. With clean seed, three bushels will be sufficient for an acre :
and when sown, harrow it gently, and roll it with a wooden roller.
When the grass comes up fill up all the bare spots with fresh seed,
.which if rolled to fix it, will soon come up and overtake the rest. In
Norfolk they sow clover with their grasses, particularly with rye-grass;
but this should not be done, excepting when the land is designed for
grass, for three or four years only, because neither of these kinds will
last long in the ground. Where the grass is intended for a continuance
it is better to mix only small white Dutch clover or marl grass with the
grass seed, not more than 8 pounds to an acre. These are abiding
plants; they spread close on the surface, and make the sweetest feed
of any for cattle. In the following spring root up thistles, hemlock, or
any large plants that appear. If you do this while the ground is soft
enough to allow those plants to be drawn up root and all, infinite after
trouble will be saved.

*
The common method of laying down fields for grass is extremely in-
judicious. Some sow barley with their grasses, which they suppose
will be useful in shading them, without considering how much the corn
draws away the nourishment from the land. Others take their seeds
from a foul hay-rick, by which course, besides filling the land with
rubbish and weeds, the seed intended for a dry soil may have come
from a moist soil where it grew naturally, or the contrary. The conse-
quence of this is that the ground, instead of being covered with a good
thick sward, is filled with plants foreign to its nature.
The kinds of grass most eligible for pasture lands are the annual
meadow, creeping, and fine bent, fox-tail, and crested dog's-tail, the
poas or Suffolk grass, the fescues, the vernal oat-grass, the ray or rye-
grass. It is not however advisable to sow all these kinds together; for
not to insist on the circumstance that they come to maturity at different
times, and therefore never can all be cut in equal perfection and full
vigour, no kind of cattle are equally fond of all these sorts. Horses
will scarcely touch such hay as oxen and cows would thrive upon: sheep
are particularly fond of some sorts and steadily refuse others: darnel-
grass, if not cut before several of the other kinds are ripe, becomes so
hard and wiry in the stalk, that few cattle care to meddle with it.
Pasture land is of such importance in husbandry, that many would
prefer it to corn land, because of the small hazard and labour attend-
ing its management, and because it lays the foundation for most of the
profit expected from arable land, on account of the manure afforded by
the cattle fed upon the pastures. Pasture land is of two sorts, the one
meadow land, often overflowed, and the other upland, which is high
and dry. The meadow land will produce a greater quantity of hay
than the upland, without requiring so frequent manuring and dressing:
but then the upland hay is by far preferable to the meadow hay. The
meat fed on upland hay is also more valued than that fatted on mea-
dow hay, however rich, although the latter will produce the larger and
fatter cattle, as is seen by those brought from the low rich lands in
Lincolnshire, and other districts of the same nature. People of deli-
cate taste will always give a much larger price for meat fed on downs,
or short upland pastures, than for that fattened in the richest meadows.
Upland pastures. The first improvement of upland pastures is to
fence them, dividing them into fields of different sizes, from 4 to 10



236
AGRICULTURE.
*
acres each, planting timber trees in the hedge-rows, to screen the grass
from the dry pinching winds of March, which often prevent the grass
from growing in large open lands; so that if April prove a dry month,
very little hay is produced.
hay is produced. But in sheltered fields the grass will be-
gin to grow early in March, and will cover the ground and prevent the
sun from parching the roots. In fencing land, however, very small in-
closures ought to be avoided, especially when trees are planted in the
hedges; for these when grown up will spread over the land, and often
sour the grass.
་
The next improvement of upland pasture is to make the turf good,
where either from badness of the soil, or from want of care, the grass
has been destroyed by rushes, bushes, or mole-hills. Where the sur-
face is clayey and cold, it may be improved by paring and burning :
but if it be a hot sandy land, then chalk, lime, marl, or clay are very
proper manures to lay on it: but in pretty large quantities, or they will
be of little service. If the ground be over-run with rushes or bushes,
it will be of great advantage to grub them up in the latter part of sum-
mer, and after they are dried to burn them, and spread the ashes over
the ground, just before the autumnal rains, when the surface should be
levelled, and sown with grass seed, which will make good grass in the
ensuing spring. Mole-hills should also be pared off, and either burnt
for ashes, or spread immediately over the ground, sowing the bare
spots with grass when the rains of autumn begin. When land has been
thus managed, it should be rolled in February and March with a heavy
wooden roller in moist weather, that it may make an impression. This
will level the ground, and fit it for proper mowing: it will also make
the turf to thicken and gain a good bottom; besides that the grass will
be sweeter and weeds will be less apt to spring.


Another improvement of upland pastures is the feeding on them: for
where this is not practised they must be manured at least every third
year; and where a farmer has much arable land he will not care to part
with his manure for the pasture.
Red clover grows luxuriantly on a rich soil, whether clay, loam, or
gravel; it will grow even upon moor when properly cultivated; a wet
soil is its destruction. To have red clover in perfection, weeds must
be banished, and stones taken off. The mould ought to be as fine as
harrowing can make it, and the surface smoothed with a light roller,
which enables the farmer to sow his seed equally and evenly, to be
covered in by a small harrow with teeth no larger than those of a gar-
den rake, three inches long, and six asunder. The proper season for
sowing red clover, is from the middle of April to the middle of May.
It will spring indeed at any time from the first of March to the end
of August: but such freedoms with the seed should never be used,
but from necessity. Some fanciful writers talk of sowing an acre of
land with four pounds of seed: but it is an egregious error to be
sparing of clover seed. Grass seeds in general cannot be sown too
thick, for the plants shelter one another, they retain all the dew, and
when close they must push upwards, having no room to push sidewise.
When red clover is sown for cutting green, an acre of land ought
never to have less than 24 pounds of seed; for the thicker the clover,
the smaller and themore delicate will be the stem, and the more accept-
able to the cattle.
Grain may be more safely sown with red clover than with almost any
AGRICULTURE
237
other grass;
and the most proper grain has been found to be flax: for
the soil must be equally well cultivated for both these plants. Next to
flax, barley is the best companion to clover, for the clover is well esta-
blished in the ground, before it is overtopped by the barley. And as
barley is cut in general sooner than either oats or wheat, it is rather a
nurse than a stepmother to the clover.
५४
White clover, yellow clover, ribwort, rye-grass, are cultivated in ge-
neral in the same way with red clover. Rye-grass is less hurt by frosts
than any
of the clovers, and will thrive in a moister soil; nor in that
soil is it much affected by drought. These grasses are generally sown
with red clover, to produce a plentiful crop.
Sainfoin is reckoned, by writers on agriculture, as preferable to clover
in many respects: they say it produces a larger crop, that it does not hurt
cattle when eaten green, that it makes better hay, that it continues four
times longer in the ground, and that it will grow on land that will bear
no other crop. Sainfoin has a very long tap-root, able to pierce very
hard earth. The larger the roots the deeper they go; and hence it may
be concluded that this grass, when it thrives well, draws a great part of
its nourishment from below the staple of the soil; and of course that a
deep dry soil is the best for sainfoin. To make sainfoin vigorous it
should be sown thin, and the best way to do this is by a drill. Sain-
foin takes several years to come to its full strength, and the number of
plants sufficient to stock a field will, while in this imperfect state, make
but a poor crop for the first year or two. It should therefore be so
sown, that plants may be easily taken up, in such numbers and in such
order as always to leave in the field the proper number in their proper
places.
Plants taken up from a sainfoin field may be transplanted to other
ground to great advantage. In transplanting, a great part of the long
tap-root should be cut off, to prevent it from striking very deep in the
new soil, and make it push out large roots in a sloping direction from
the cut end. Managed in this manner, sainfoin will thrive on even
shallow land that has a wet bottom, provided it be not overstocked
with plants.

March and the beginning of April are the best seasons for sowing
sainfoin, which answers best when drilled, especially on land made fine
by repeated ploughing, rolling and harrowing. If cut just before the
bloom, sainfoin affords admirable food for horned cattle, and will give a
second crop the same season; but if the season be wet, it will be better
to let it stand till the bloom be perfect, lest in making it into hay the
flowers drop off, of which cows are particularly fond; and it requires
more time than any other hay in drying. It is so excellent fodder for
horses, that they require no oats while they eat it, although worked
hard all the time. Sheep will also fatten upon it sooner than upon any
other food. An acre of very ordinary land, when improved by sain-
foin, will maintain four cows very well, from the first of April to the
end of November, and afford besides a sufficient store of hay to make
the greater part of their food for the four remaining months of the year.
If the soil be good, a field of sainfoin will last in prime from fifteen to
twenty years: but at the end of seven or eight years it will be necessary
to lay on a moderate coat of well-rotted dung, or of marl if the soil be
very light and sandy. Hence it appears that, for poor land, nothing
equals sainfoin, in point of advantage to the farmer.
238
AGRICULTURE.
[
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Lucerne has received the highest commendations from both ancients
and moderns, as affording excellent hay, and producing very large crops:
it will remain at least ten or twelve years in the ground, and produce
seven or eight tuns of hay on the acre. Lucerne should be raised in
nursery-beds, and transplanted to the field: part of the tap-root is then
cut off, which makes the plant send out a number of lateral branches.
from the cut part of the root, and so fit it for growth in a shallow soil,
where without that operation it would not grow. Lucerne has been
transplanted into beds three feet broad, having one row of plants in each
bed, in other beds three feet nine inches wide with double rows of plants,
and in beds four feet three inches wide with triple rows.
The plants
in the single rows were six inches asunder, and those in the double and
triple rowed beds were eight or nine inches asunder. In the course of
three years it was found that a single row produced more than a triple
row of the same length. The beds or ridges ought to be raised in the
middle, a small trench three inches deep, drawn in the middle, and the
plants should be set in this trench, and covered up to the neck with
earth. If lucerne be sown in the spring, in a warm soil, it will be rea-
dy for transplanting in September: but if the weather be very hot and
dry the transplanting should be deferred till October. During the
whole time the plant is in a growing state, the intervals between the
rows should be stirred carefully once a month by horse-hoeing.
Burnet is peculiarly adapted to poor land: and besides this property
it furnishes excellent winter-pasture when hardly any thing else grows.
Its other good qualities are that it makes good butter, never swells or
blows cattle, is fine pasture for sheep, and flourishes well on poor light
sandy or stony soils, or even on dry chalk hills. If the land be prepar-
ed as for turnips, burnet will not fail: and after the first year it is at-
tended with very little expence, as the flat circular growth of its leaves
will keep down, if they do not altogether prevent the growth of weeds.
On the failure of turnips from the fly or the black worm, some farmers
have sown burnet on the land, and in the following March have had
fine pasture for their sheep and lambs. It perfects its seed twice in one
summer, and this seed is said to be as good as oats for horses: but it is
too valuable to be applied to that use. It is sometimes sown late in
spring with oats and barley, and succeeds very well: but it is best to
sow it by itself in the beginning of July, when there is a prospect of
rain, on a small piece of ground, and in October following transplant
it in rows two feet apart, and a foot asunder in the rows. After it is
fed down with cattle, the burnet should be harrowed clean. Some
horses will not eat it freely at first; but in a few days they generally.
grow fond of it: it affords rich pleasant milk, and in great plenty. A
farmer in Kent some years ago, sowed four acres with lucerne, as soofi
as a crop of oats was taken off, which was in the end of August. He
threw in 12 pounds of seed on each acre, broad-cast: but no rain fall-
ing until the middle of September, the plants did not appear before the
latter end of that month. The crop however was good, and in the
spring he set out the plants with a turnip hoe, leaving them about a
foot distant from each other. Notwithstanding the success of this ex-
periment the drill method is to be preferred, as it saves more than half
the seed. The land on which the experiment was made was a poor dry
gravel, not worth three shillings an acre for any thing else. The seve~

AGRICULTURE. -
239
rest frost never injures burnet; and the oftener it is fed down, the
thicker are the leaves which always spring from the root.
The poa annua, or annual meadow grass, is said to make the finest of
turfs; it grows every where by way sides, and on rich sound commons,
it is called in some parts Suffolk grass, because whole fields of it are seen
in that county, without the intermixture of any other grass: and as
some of the best salt butter used in London comes from that quarter,
it is very probable that that sort of grass is the best for the dairy.
Thriving particularly well when trodden under foot, as in paths and
walks, it would no doubt be greatly improved by repeated rolling.
Meadow pasture. One of the most important improvements in hus-
bandry, introduced of late years, is the overflowing or flooding of grass
lands, which is now come into general use, not in low level grounds
only, but in all other situations where a command of water can be ob-
tained. It appears however that watering of meadows was practised
even in the reigns of Queen Elizabeth, and King James the First. A
book was written upon the subject by Rowland Vaughan, who seems to
have been the first to employ this method, and who carried it on to a great
extent in Golden Valley in Herefordshire. In Switzerland, and in the
countries extending on both sides of the Alps in Germany and Italy,
the watering of meadows, and even of the pastures upon the steep slopes
of the mountains, by means of multitudes of small channels conducted
in zigzags from the torrents on their sides, has been in constant use, for
time out of mind.
The advantages of watering meadows are many and great, not only
as excellent crops of grass are raised by it, but as they appear so early
as to be of infinite service to the farmer for food to his cattle, in the
spring, before the natural grass rise. The good effects of grass raised
in this way are astonishing, especially upon such cattle as have been
hardly off through the winter. In Gloucestershire, the farmers who
have an opportunity of watering their lands, are able to begin to make
cheese at least a month earlier than those who have not that advantage.
Grass raised by watering is found to be admirable for bringing up
lambs, not only for fattening but for store: for lambs stopped and stint-
ed in their growth when very young, not only become contracted them-
selves for life, but in some measure communicate the same puny dimi-
nutive size to their offspring. The best remedy for preventing this evil
is the spring feed from watered meadows.
Land treated by watering is in a constant state of improvement in
quality, even though it should be mown every year: the herbage, if at
first coarse becomes finer, the soil if swampy becomes sound, the depth
of the mould is regularly increased, and its quality meliorated every
year. To these advantages another may be suggested, which is that
the proprietor who wishes to improve his estate, at the same time fur-
nishes the best of all alms-deeds, namely labour, to the honest and in-
dustrious poor, instead of support too often afforded to idleness and
vice in the workhouse. In the operations of watering lands almost the
whole expence consists in the actual hand-labour of a class of people
who have either no genius, or no means for employing their bodily
strength in any other way, for the maintenance of themselves and their
families. When viewed in this light the expence of watering can be
but comparatively small, and the benefits arising from it are great and
important.
-
240
AGRICULTURE.
*
As a proof of this assertion, the reader will not be displeased to peruse
the following facts. A meadow near South Cerney, in Gloucestershire,
had been watered longer than the oldest person in the vicinity could
remember, but was by no means the best meadow watered by the same
stream; nor was the winter preceding the time of observation favour-
able for watering. It contained six acres and a half. The spring feed
was let for seven guineas, and it supported two hundred sheep, from the
1st of March to the beginning of May: the hay being sold for thirty
guineas and the aftermath for six. Another still more remarkable proof
of the utility of watering was, that two of the most skilful watering-meni
of the same quarter were sent to lay out a meadow of seven acres, the
whole crop of which, for that year was sold for forty shillings. Though
it was thought by many to be impossible to throw the water over it, yet
the skill of the workmen soon overcame all difficulties: and ever since
that time the meadow has been let at the rent of three pounds per acre,
in all L.21. instead of L.2. for the whole.
There are three kinds of soil commonly found near rivers and rivulets,
the melioration of which may be attempted by watering, namely, 1st,
a gravelly, or a sound, firm, warm soil, or a mixture of the two together.
Such a soil receives an almost instantaneous improvement, and the fas-
ter the water runs over it the better: 2d, boggy, miry, and rushy soils,
commonly found by the sides of streams when the banks are low and
level. These soils also are greatly improved by watering; perhaps
equally so with the former description of soils, if we compare the values
of both in their unimproved state, this last kind of land being of little
or no worth until improved. By proper watering, however, these second
soils may be made to produce large crops of hay, on which horned cat-
tle may be kept through the winter, and greatly forwarded; though
in their uncultivated state they would scarcely produce any thing to
maintain the stock in the winter, and very little even in summer. Much
more skill as well as expence, however, is necessary to bring boggy,
miry, and rushy soils, into proper culture, than gravelly or sound warm
soils. 3d, The soils the most difficult to improve are strong, wet, and
clay soils; and this difficulty is caused by their lying commonly on a
dead, level, which will not allow the water to run over them, and by
their tenacity, which does not admit of their being drained. Even when
the utmost care is used, unless a strong body of water be thrown over
them, and that from a river, the waters of which have a very fertilizing
property, little advantage will be gained: but wherever these advan
tages can be obtained in the winter, and a warm spring succeeds, these
strong, wet and clay lands will produce very large crops of grass.
The advantages of using springs and rivulets for watering instead of
large rivers is, that the expense of raising wares to stop their course will
not be great; nor are they liable to other objections which attend the
use of large rivers. When these rivulets run through a cultivated coun-
try also, the land-floods occasioned by violent rains frequently bring down
with them such quantities of manure as greatly contribute to fertilize
the lands over which they pass; all which materials are entirely lost
where watering is not practised.

In watering care must be taken that the water never stand still or
stagnate upon the ground, for, in even the swiftest course over the
land, the water has always abundance of time to deposit the mud or
other fertilizing particles with which it is more or less loaded. And
+
AGRICULTURK.
241
I
•
hence may be seen the reason why water that has been made to flood
one tract of meadow so as to fertilize it, is observed to be of no service
whatever to another tract of similar land lower down the course of the
stream; if, from a mistaken economy, the same water should be carried
over two adjoining meadows of considerable extent. That it is the muddy:
particles carried along by the greater number of streams, and by all after
heavy and lasting falls of rain, which produce the chief benefit derived
from watering lands, is fully evinced by the uniform operations of nature:
upon lands exposed to be laid under water by the great rivers in the
warmer regions of the earth. The fertility of the long narrow vale of
the Nile, stretching the whole length of Egypt, is proverbial. Swelledi
by the rains that fall far to the southward in the interior of Africa, the
Nile in Egypt begins to rise in May, and continues so to do to the begin-:
ning of August, when it has in general increased sixteen cubits, or twen-
ty four feet above its usual level. At this time openings are made in
the banks and mounds which line its channel, and the waters are con-
ducted or suffered to flow all over the level plain on each side of the
river. When the waters retire they leave behind them a thick body of
mud, so rich and fertile, that the corn and other seeds thrown upon it:
produce crops of the most extraordinary increase. On the northern coast
of South America, near the mouth of that prodigious body of running
water, the river of the Amazons, of the great river Oronoko, &c. similar
effects are produced by natural flooding or periodical inundations. The
land in what was once Dutch Guiana, or the territories of Surinam, Es-
sequibo, &c. on that coast, for a space of fifty miles back from the sea, is
every where flat and level, without a single hill; and so low, that during
the rainy season, it is usually covered with water nearly two feet in
height. But this has produced an effect similar to that of the prolific in-
undations of the Nile, and rendered the soil more fertile than that perhaps
of any other part of the globe. So much is this the case, that the soil; to
the depth of twelve inches, is a layer of the richest and most perfect
manure; and as such, quantities of it were once carried to recruit the
scorched and exhausted fields of the island of Barbadoes: but the wood-
ants, which in Guiana are very numerous, and had been embarked with:
the soil, committed such ravages in the ship, that the experiment was
not repeated. To convey some idea of the fertility of this territory it
will be enough to mention that, on the banks of the rivers towards their
mouths, thirty crops of sugar-canes have been produced successively
without replanting; whereas, in the neighbouring islands of the West
Indies, more than two crops without replanting are never expected. The
redundant fertility of those tracts is so great as to be even disadvantage-
ous; so that the inhabitants are obliged to recur to various expedients
to diminish the excessive richness of the soil, by plantations of fruits and
vegetables the most powerful in impoverishing the ground.
1
The following general directions respecting the watering of meadows
are given by Mr. Boswell in his treatise on the subject, published in
1790: "Lands requiring, and capable of watering, lie sometimes all on
one side, and sometimes on both sides of the stream, designed to supply
them with water. In the former case, when they have a pretty quick
descent, the lands may often be watered by a main channel drawn out
of the stream itself, without the expense of any ware or dam.Boggy
lands require more and longer continued watering than such as are sandy
or gravelly; and the larger the body of water that can be brought upon
•
1
卑
​•


4


:~.
I I
242
AGRICULTURE.
you
them the better. The weight and strength of the water will greatly as-
sist in compressing the soil, and destroying the roots of the weeds that
grow upon it; nor can the water be kept too long upon it, particularly
in winter; and the closer it is fed the better. To improve strong clay
soils we must endeavour to the utmost to procure the greatest possible
descent from the trench to the trench-drain, which is best done by mak-
ing the latter as deep as possible, and applying the materials taken out, to
raise the trenches. Then with a strong body of water, taking the advan-
tage of the autumnal floods, and keeping the water some time upon them
at that season, and as often as convenient during the winter, the greatest
improvement on this sort of soils may be made. Warm sand or gra-
velly soils are the most profitable under the watering system, provided
the water can be brought over them at pleasure. In soils of this kind
the water must not be kept long on at a time, but often shifted, tho-
roughly drained, and the land frequently refreshed with it; under
which circumstances the profit is immense. A spring feeding, a crop of
hay, and two aftermaths, may be obtained in one year; and this, proba-
bly where, in a dry summer, scarce grass enough could be found to keep
a sheep alive. If the stream be large, almost any kind of land may be
watered; and though the expense of a ware over it be great, it will
soon be repaid by the additional crop. If the stream be small, the ex-
pences will be so in proportion."
With respect to the time during which the water should remain upon
the land, no precise rules can be laid down: experience is in this, as
in
many other practices of husbandry, the safest guide. It may how-
ever be proper to observe that, in warm weather, water remaining on
the ground will very soon produce a white substance like cream, which
is very prejudicial to the grass, and shews that the water has been on
the land too long already. If it be permitted to remain a little longer, a
thick scum will settle upon the grass, of the consistence of glue, and as
tough as leather, which will quite destroy the grass wherever it is suf
fered to be produced.


Rotation of crops. No branch of husbandry requires more skill and
sagacity than the proper change or rotation of crops, so as to keep the
ground always in good heart, and yet to draw out of it the greatest pos
sible profit. Some plants rob the soil, others are gentle to it; some bind
it, and some loosen it. The nice point is to intermix crops so as to make
the greatest profit, consistently with keeping the ground in proper trim;
and for this purpose the nature of the plants used in husbandry ought
to be accurately examined.


It was formerly mentioned that culmiferous plants are those which
have a smooth jointed stalk or stem, usually hollow, wrapped about, at
each joint, with single narrow sharp-pointed leaves, and having their
seed contained in husks; of this sort of plants are wheat, rye, barley,
cats, rye-grass. Leguminous plants, on the contrary, are very various
in their manner of growing, but they bear their fruit in pods, such as
pease, beans, vetches, clover, cabbage. Culmiferous plants having small
leaves and few in number, must depend mostly on the soil for nourish-
ment, and but very little on the air. During the ripening of the seed
they probably draw the whole of their nourishment from the soil; as the
leaves by this time, being dry and withered, must have lost their power
of drawing food from the air. Now as culmiferous plants are chiefly
cultivated for their seed, and are not cut down till that seed be fully ripe,

AGRICULTURE.
248
all such plants may be pronounced to be all robbers of the soil, in a
greater or less degree. But such plants, while young, are all leaves,
and in that state draw their food chiefly from the air; hence it is, that
when cut green for feeding cattle, a culmiferous crop is far from being a
robber. A hay crop, accordingly, even where it consists mostly of rye-
grass, is not a robber, provided it be cut before the seed is formed, as it
ought to be at any rate, if one would have it in perfection: and the fog-
gage excluding the frost by covering the ground keeps the roots warm.
A leguminous plant, by its broad leaves, draws much of its nourishment
from the air. Thus a cabbage, which has very broad leaves, and a mul-
titude of them, owes its growth much more to the air than to the soil.
One thing is certain, that a cabbage cut and hung up in a damp place,
preserves its verdure longer than other plants. At the same time the
seed is that part of a plant which requires the most nourishment, and
for that nourishment a culmiferous plant must be wholly indebted to the
soil: a leguminous plant, on the contrary, when cut green for food,
must be very gentle to the soil. Pease and beans are leguminous; but
being cultivated for seed, they seem to occupy a middle station: their
seed makes them more severe than other leguminous plants cut green,
and their leaves, which grow till reaping, make them less severe than a
culmiferous plant left to ripen.
These plants are distinguished also by another remarkable circum-
stance: all the seeds of a culmiferous plant ripen at the same time. As
soon as they begin to form, the plant becomes stationary, its growth is
stopt, the leaves wither, the roots cease to push out, and the plant
when cut down is blanched and sapless. The seeds of a leguminous
plant are formed in succession; flowers and fruit appear at the same
time in different parts of the plant, which is accordingly in conti-
nual growth, an 1 constantly pushing its roots. Hence the value of bean
or pease straw above that of wheat or oats: the latter is withered and
dry when the crop is cut; the former is still green and succulent. The
difference, therefore, to the soils between a culmiferous and a leguminous
crop is very great. The latter growing till it is cut down, keeps the soil
in constant motion, and leaves it loose and mellow for the plough. The
former gives over growing long before reaping; and the ground, from
want of motion, becomes compact and hard. Nor is this all: the dew
falling on a culmiferous crop, after the ground begins to harden, rests on
the surface, and is sucked up by the sun. Dew that falls on a legumi-
nous plant is shaded from the sun by the broad leaves, and sinks at leisure
into the ground. The consequence of all this is, that after a culmi-
ferous crop the ground is not only hard but dry; whereas after a legu-
minous crop it is not only loose, but soft and unctuous or moist.
Of all culmiferous plants wheat is the most severe on the soil, by the
long time it occupies the ground without admitting the plough; and as,
the grain is heavier than that of barley or oats, it probably requires also
more nourishment from the soil than either of those grains. Bulbous-
rooted plants are above all useful in moving, dividing, and pulverizing
the soil. Potatoe roots grow six, eight, or ten inches under the surface,
and by their number and size they separate the particles of the ground
far better than can be done by the plough; the consequence of this is,
whatever be the natural colour of the soil, it is always black when a
potatoe is taken up. The potatoe however must, as a divider of the soil,
give way to the carrot and parsnip, which are large roots, piercing often
护
​+
ܕ
•
!





244
AGRICULTURE.
to the depth of eighteen inches. The turnip by its tap-root divides the
soil more than a fibrous rooted plant; but as its bulbous root grows mostly
above ground, it divides the soil less than the potatoe, the carrot, or the
parsnip. In this respect red clover may be put in the same rank with
turnip. Whether potatoes or turnips be the more gentle crop is a puzzling
question. The former bears seed, and probably draws more nourish-
ment from the soil than the latter, when cut green. On the other hand,
potatoes divide the soil more than turnips, and leave it more loose and
friable. It is no less puzzling to determine between cabbage and tur-
nip: the former draws more of its nourishment from the air, the latter
leaves the soil more open and free. The result of the whole, however,
seems to be this:-that culmiferous plants are all robbers, some more,
some less; they, at the same time, bind the soil, some more, some less.
Leguminous plants are, in both these respects, different: if any of them
rob the soil it is in a very slight degree, and all of them without excep-
tion loosen the soil. A culmiferous crop, however, is generally the more
profitable; but few soils can long bear the burden of such crops, unless
relieved by leguminous crops thrown in between them. These last, on
the other hand, without a mixture of culmiferous crops, would soon ren-
der the soil too loose for use.
These observations may carry the farmer some length, in directing him
in the choice of a proper rotation or succession of crops. Where dung,
lime, or other manure can be procured in plenty, to recruit the soil after
severe cropping, no succession or rotation is more proper or profitable,
in a strong soil, than wheat, pease or beans, barley, oats, fallow. Under
this rotation the whole farm nay be brought, excepting so far as hay is
concerned, But as such a command of manure is rare, it is of more im-
portance to determine what should be the rotation, when no manure can
be procured but that raised on the farm itself. Considering that culmi-
ferous crops are the most profitable on rich land, it would be proper to
make them more frequent than the other sort. But as few even rich
soils could bear such frequent culmiferous crops without suffering, it may
be laid down as a general rule that alternate crops, culmiferous and legu-
minous, should succeed one another by turns. Nor are there many soils
that will stand good even with this rotation, however favourable, unless
relieved, from time to time, by pasturing a few years. If such extended
rotation, including pasturage, be skilfully carried on, crops without end
may be obtained, in a tolerably good soil, without any other manure but
what is produced on the farm itself.
It is scarcely necessary to mention, being known to every farmer, that
clay answers best for wheat, moist clay for beans, loam for barley and
pease, light soil for turnip, sandy soil for rye and buck wheat, and that
oats thrive better than any other grain in coarse soil. Now, in forming
a rotation, it is not sufficient that a culmiferous crop be always succeeded
by a leguminous: we must also be attentive that no crop, however pro-
per as a successor, be introduced that is not adapted to the soil. Wheat
being a great binder, requires more than any other crop a leguminous
one to follow. Potatoes are the greatest openers, but they are improper
in a wheat soil; neither will turnip answer, because it requires a light
soil. A very loose soil, after a crop of rye, requires rye-grass to bind it,
or the tread of cattle in pasturing; but to bind the soil wheat must not
be ventured, because it does not thrive well in loose soil,
Where a farmer can procure no manure but what is of his own pro-


¿
AGRICULTURE.
245
duction, many variations and successions of crops may be tried, all of
them good, although perhaps not all equaily so. The following exam-
ples, one in clay, and one in free soil, have been found very successful,
both on small farms of ninety acres each. Six aøres are inclosed for a
kitchen garden, &c. in which is annually a crop of red clover, for suin-
mer food to the working cattle. As there are annually twelve acres in
hay and twelve in pasture, a single plough with good cattle is sufficient
to command the remaining sixty acres.

Inclosure.
t
1 Q∞ SON
2
3 Pease.
4
5
6
1st. Year.
Fallow.
Wheat.
Inclosure.
Barley.
Hay.
Oats.
Pasture.
T
2d.
Wheat.
Pease.
Barley.
Hay.
Oats.
Fallow.
Pasture.
✔
Rotation on a Clay Soil.
3d.
4th.
Barley.
Pease.
Barley.
Hay.
Hay.
Oats.
Oats.
Fallow.
Wheat.
1st. Year. 2d.
1 Turnips. Barley.
Barley.
2
3 Hay.
4
Oats.
5 Fallow.
6 Wheat.
Pasture.
Fallow.
Wheat. Pease.
Pasture.
Pasture.
Rotation on a Free Soil.
sd.
Hay.
Hay. Oats.
Oats. Fallow.
Fallow. Wheat
Wheat. Turnips.
Turnips. Barley.
Pasture. Pasture.
When the rotation is completed, every field will have borne, in its
turn, the same succession of crops; and the inclosure No. 7, having been
six years in pasture, is ready to be taken up for a course of crops, beginning
with oats, and going on as in inclosure No. 6. In this arrangement la-
bour is equally distributed, without hurry or confusion, over the farm:
but the chief advantages of this rotation are, that two culmiferous or
white-corn crops never come together on the same land; and that by a-
due mixture of crops, the soil is preserved in good heart without any ex-
traordinary manure. The land is always producing plentiful crops, and
neither the hay nor the pasture have time to degenerate. The whole
dung of the farm is laid upon the fallow. Every farm that takes a grass
crop into the rotation must be inclosed, especially on a clay soil, as no-
thing is more hurtful to it than poaching.
4th.
Oats.
5th.
Fallow.
Wheat.
Turnips.
Barley.
Hay.
Pasture.
Hay.
Oats.
Fallow.
Wheat.
Pease.
Barley.
Pasture.
5th.
Fallow.
Wheat.
Turnips.
Barley.
Hay.
Oats.
Pasture.
6th.
Oats.
Fallow.
Wheat.
Ja
Pease.
Barley.
Hay.
Pasture.

6th.
Wheat.
Turnips.
Barley.
Hay.
Oats.
Fallow.
Pasture.
For the next rotation the inclosure No. 7, is taken up for corn, begin-
ning with oats, and proceeding in the order of No. 4; in place of which
No. 3 is laid down for pasture, by sowing pasture-grasses with the last
crop in that inclosure, which is barley. This rotation has all the advan
tages of the former, and the whole dung is employed on the turnip crop.
216:
AGRICULTURE.
+
Drill, or Horse-hoeing Husbandry.
The general principles on which are founded the operations of drill
husbandry are the promoting of the growth of plants by horse-hoeing,
and the sowing of the seed-corn, both objects of great importance to the
farmer. The advantages of repeated tillage before sowing are well
known: those of repeated tillage called horse-hoeing after sowing are
also very great.


Land sown with wheat, however well it may be cultivated in autumn,
sinks in winter; the particles of the soil get nearer to each other, and
the weeds rise, so that in spring the land is nearly in the same state as
if it had never been ploughed. This however is the season when the
wheat should branch and grow with vigour, and consequently when it
stands the most in need of ploughing or hoeing, to destroy the weeds,
to supply the roots with fresh earth, and by separating anew the par-
ticles of the soil to allow the roots to extend and collect food. It is
well known that in gardens, plants grow with double strength, after
being hoed or transplanted. If plants in arable land could be managed
with ease and safety in the same manner, it is natural to expect that
their growth would be proportionably promoted; and this experience
has shown to be not only practicable, but productive of many advant-
ages. In hoeing wheat, though some of the roots be moved or even.
broken, the plants receive no injury: for this very circumstance causes
them to send out a greater number of roots than before, and conse-
quently to enlarge the space from which they draw nourishment, and
so increase their growth. Sickly wheat has often recovered its vigour
after a good hoeing, especially when done in weather not very hot or
dry. Wheat and the other grains which are sown before winter require
hoeing, more than oats, barley, or other grain sown in spring: for if
the land has been well ploughed before the spring corn was sown, it
has neither time to harden nor to produce weeds, not having been ex-
posed to the snow and rain of winter.
Of sowing. As in the new or drill husbandry plants grow with
greater vigour than by the old method, the land should be thinner
sown, This is the principle to which objections have chiefly been
made, for upon observing the land occupied by a small number of
plants, people are apt to look upon all the empty space as lost. But
this opinion will soon be removed, when it is considered that in the best
land cultivated in the old way, and sown very thick, each seed pro-
duces but one or two ears; that in the same land sown thinner, each
seed produces two or three ears, and that a single seed sown by itself
with room about it, has been known to produce 18 and even 21 ears.
F
In the common method, as there are many more plants than can find
proper nourishment, and as it is impossible to assist them by hoeing,
numbers die before they come to maturity, the greatest part remain
sickly and drooping, and thus much of the seed sown is lost. In the
new method, on the contrary, all the plants have as much food as they
require, and as they are, from time to time, assisted by hoeing they
become so vigorous as to equal in their production the numerous but
feeble plants raised in the common old way.
Of hoeing. The new husbandry is absolutely impracticable in lands'


-
•


AGRICULTURE.
247

that are not easily ploughed. The attempt to cultivate land according
to the new method, without attending to this circumstance that it can
be practised in no land that has not already been brought into good
tilth by the old method, has gone far to bring descredit on the new
husbandry in many quarters. When a field has been well ploughed
and harrowed, it is divided into rows at the distance of 30 inches from
one another. On the sides of each of these rows, two rows of wheat
are sown, six inches distant from each other. By this method there
will be an interval of two feet wide between the rows, and every plant
will have room enough to extend its roots, and to collect nourishment.
These intervals will also be sufficient for allowing the ground to be hoed
or tilled, without injuring the plants in the rows.
·
The first hoeing should be given before the winter set in, to drain
away the wet, and prepare the earth to be mellowed by the frosts.
which ends will be answered by drawing two small furrows, at a little
distance from the rows, and throwing the earth into the middle of the
intervals. The second hoeing, to make the plants branch, should be
given after the hard frosts are over. The third to strengthen the stalk,
should be given when the ears begin to show themselves, and may be
very light. The fourth and last hoeing is of the greatest importance,
as it enlarges the grain, and makes the ears fill at the extremities. This
should be given when the wheat begins to bloom: a furrow is drawn in
the middle of the interval, and the earth thrown to the right and left
on the feet of the plants. The best season for hoeing is two or three
days after rain: light dry soils may be hoed almost at any time; but
this is by no means the case with strong clay soils.
By this repeated tillage or hoeing, good crops will be obtained, pro-
vided the weather be favourable; but as strong vigorous plants are
long before they arrive at maturity, corn raised in the new way is later
in ripening than any other, and must therefore be earlier sown.
In order to prepare the intervals between the rows for sowing again,
some well-rotted dung may be laid in the deep furrows made in the
middle of the intervals; and this dung must be covered with the earth
that was before thrown towards the rows of wheat; an operation to be
performed immediately after harvest, that there may be time to give the
land a slight stirring before the new rows are sown, in the middle of
the space between the former rows. Supposing dung to be necessary,
which is denied by many, a single thin layer in the bottom of each fur-
row is enough.
(




That the practical farmer may have a distinct notion of the nature of
the new or drill husbandry, a summary of the operations necessary in
it is here subjoined, in a number of separate heads, in the order in
which those operations are executed.
1. It is indispensably necessary that the farmer be provided with a
drill-plough, and a hoe-plough.

2. The new husbandry may be begun either with the winter or the
spring corn.
3. The land must be prepared by four good ploughings, given at dif-
ferent times, from the beginning of April to the middle of September.
4. These ploughings must be done in dry weather, to prevent the
earth from kneading.
5. The land must be harrowed in the same manner as if it were sown
in the old common way.

248
AGRICULTURE.
ì
6. The rows of wheat must be sown very straight.
*
¡
7. When the field is not very large a line must be stretched tight
across it, by which a rill may be traced with a hoe, for the horse that
draws the drill-plough to walk in; and when the rows are sown 50
inches must be left between the rills. When the field is very large,
however, stakes at 5 feet distance from each other must be placed at each
end. The workman must then trace a small furrow with a plough that
has no mould board, for the horse to walk in, that draws the drill, direct-
ing himself with his eye by the stakes.
8. The sowing should be finished by the end of September, or the
beginning of October.
***
-
9. The furrows must be traced the long way of the land, that as little
ground as possible may be lost in head-lands.should be east west.
10. The rows should, if possible, run down the slope of the land, that
the water may the easier get off.
11. The seed-wheat must be plunged into a tub of lime-water, and
stirred, that the light corn may come up to the surface, and be skim-
med off.
12. The seed must be next spread on a floor, and frequently stirred,
till it is dry enough to run through the valves of the hopper of the
drill.
13. To prevent smut, the seed must be put into a ley of ashes or
lime, or of some other preferable ingredients.
:
14 Good old seed-wheat should be chosen, in preference to new, as
it is found by experience not to be so subject to smut.
15. After the hoppers of the drill are filled, the horse must go slowly
but uniformly along the furrow traced for his path. Care must be
taken that the opening of the hopper be properly suited to the size of
the grain, in order that a proper quantity of seed may be sown.
16. As the drill is seldom well managed at first, the field should be
examined after the corn has come up, and the deficiencies supplied.
17. Upon wet or strong clay, wheat should not be deposited more
than two inches deep, on any account whatever; nor less than two
inches deep on dry soils. From two to three inches are sufficient for
all spring corn. But the precise depth at which grain should be laid,
in different soils, from the lightest sand to the strongest clay, is readily
ascertained, by observing at what distance below the surface the second-
ary or coronal roots are formed in the spring.
18. Stiff lands that retain the wet must be stirred or hoed in October.
This should be done by opening a furrow in the middle of the intervals
between the rows, and afterwards filling it up by a furrow drawn on
each side, which will raise the earth in the middle of the intervals, and
leave two small furrows next the rows, for draining off the water, which
is very hurtful to wheat in winter.
**:
::.
19. The next stirring must be given about the end of March, with a
light plough. In this stirring the furrows made to drain the rows,
must be filled up by earth from the middle of the interval.
20. Some time in May, the rows must be evened, which, though
troublesome at first, soon becomes easy, as the weeds are soon kept un-
der by tillage,
1
21. In June, just before the wheat is in bloom, another stirring must
be given with the plough. A deep furrow is made in the middle of
the intervals, and the earth is thrown upon the sides of the rows.
.
1

AGRICULTURE.
249
22. When the wheat is ripe, particular care must be taken in reaping
it, to trample as little as possible on the ploughed land.
23. Soon after the wheat is carried off the field, the intervals must be
turned up with the plough, to prepare them for the seed. The great
furrow in the middle must not only be filled up, but the earth must be
raised as much as possible in the middle of the intervals.
24. In September, the land must be again sown with the drill, as be-
fore directed.
25. In October the stubble must be turned in, for forming the new
intervals; and the same order of management begun and carried on, as
in the first year of the husbandry.
A

Drill husbandry may in general be described as the practice of the
garden carried into the field. All men must agree, that the practice of
the garden is much better than that of the field, only a little more ex-
pensive but if, as is really the case in proper circumstances, this extra
expence be much more than repaid by the value of the drilled crops,
which of the two kinds of husbandry, the old or the new, should be pre-
ferred, cannot be doubtful.
•
It is proper to remark, that what we call the new or the drill hus-
bandry, although but lately introduced into Britain, is by no means a
modern invention in itself. It is now actually used in India, where it
has most probably existed, among the industrious cultivators of that
country, from a very early period. They use it not only for all sorts of
grain, but for the culture of tobacco, cotton, and the plant from which
castor-oil is extracted. Besides the drill plough, and the common plough,
the Indians use a third having a flat horizontal share, which immediately
follows the drill plough when at work. It is set in the earth to the
depth of seven or eight inches, and passes under three drills at once. It
operates by agitating the earth, so as to make the sides of the drills fall
in, and cover the seed, which it does so effectually as scarcely to leave
any traces of a drill.
•
¿
CULTIVATION OF CERTAIN VEGETABLES, PROPERLY ARTICLES
OF COMMERCE.
·
The vegetables cultivated chiefly with a view to their uses in com-
merce and manufacture are various: the principal are flax and hemp
rape or cole seed, hops, apples, pears, &c.
1. Flax is cultivated not only for the purpose of making linen cloth,
but also for its seed, from which is extracted an oil of very extensive use
in painting, and other operations. The seed-cake remaining after the
extraction of the oil by the press, is in some places used as a manure, in
others for the fattening of cattle. In Yorkshire, where considerable
quantities of flax are raised, the kind chiefly cultivated is the lea-line,
or the blue lead coloured flax, which requires a rich dry soil. A deep
fat sandy loam is perhaps the best soil. When sown upon old corn-land
the soil is to be well cleaned of weeds, and rendered perfectly friable
by summer fallow. Manure is seldom or never set on for a line crop.
and a single ploughing is generally enough. The seed time is in May;
but the soil should be neither wet nor dry, and the surface ought to be
made as fine as that of a garden bed; not a clod the size of an egg
should remain unbroken. Two bushels of seed are usually sown on an
KE



250
AGRICULTURE.
acre: the surface after being harrowed is sometimes raked with garden
or hay rakes: a light hand roller, used between the final raking and
harrowing, would be of great service. The chief requisite in the time
of the growth is weeding, which must be performed with the greatest
care; and if the ground is not very clean beforehand, the expence of
weeding must be great, or if this be neglected, the crop must be greatly
injured. The goodness of the crop consists in the plants running up with
a single stalk without branches; for wherever the branches set off, there
the length of the line terminates. These branches are never of any use,
for they are unavoidably worked off in the dressing of the flax; and
the branches seem to be commonly occasioned by clods on the ground
when sown. Flax is injured not by drought only but by frost, and is
sometimes attacked, even when got five or six inches high, by a small
white slug, which strips off the leaves to the top, and the delicate stalks
are often bent to the ground with their weight. In Yorkshire the time
of flax-harvest is generally in the latter end of July, or the beginning of
August. In general flax is a good crop when it is three feet high, and
of the thickness of a crow quill. A fine stalk affords more line and
fewer shivers than a thick one; a tall thick crop is therefore desirable:
but unless the land be good a thick crop cannot attain a sufficient
length. Some consider both flax and hemp to be exhausting crops for
the land; others on the contrary esteem them both to be improvers of
the soil, if taken off without seeding, an operation of very little use in
this country, where foreign seed is commonly employed for sowing.

·
!

•
The quantity of flax and hemp raised in Britain is, compared with
the consumption, extremely small: the great supplies are drawn from
the northern parts of Europe, particularly from Russia, Poland and
Prussia, where those most useful plants are cultivated in the following
manner. A black, but not morassy, open gravelly soil is preferred, as
flax and hemp become exuberant and coarse on too rich a soil. To as-
certain the proper middle strength of soil, crops of corn are previously
taken off it. On a vigorous soil wheat is first sown, then rye, barley,
oats, and last of all, flax or hemp. Two successive crops of hemp are
taken, if the land is immediately dunged: for one crop of flax it is not
dunged at all. The land is ploughed in autumn if the weather allow ;
and if not, in the following spring; it is then harrowed and manured,
and again ploughed immediately before sowing. A field that has been
laid down in fallow, if only ploughed up, yields a better crop of flax
than if it had been manured and cultivated. Flax and hemp are sown
from the 25th of May to the 10th of June, and the flax is reaped in the
end of August but the hemp not till the end of September. No kind
of grain can be sown immediately after a crop of flax without danging:
but after a crop of hemp any grain, and even hemp itself may be sown
without manure. Hemp cleans the ground, by suffocating with its
broad leaves all sorts of weeds; but flax must be weeded generally
twice before it bloom. Flax is pulled when the stalk becomes yellow-
ish, the pods or bolls brown, and the seed hard and full-bodied. For
the finer flax the stalk is pulled while still green: but the seed is then
sacrificed, and is fit only for crushing to make oil, of which it yields a
small quantity. Hemp is also pulled or drawn when the stalk and
pods have changed colour.. If the flax be very dry when pulled, the
seed is immediately stripped off: if it be not, it is allowed to dry on the
field. The seed-pods are spread thinly on a floor, where they are turris


AGRICULTURE.
251
ed twice a day, until so dry that they open of themselves, when they
are threshed, and the seed cleaned like any other grain. To obtain the
hemp-seed, the hemp itself when drawn, is set on end, against some con-
venient support: the roots and top-ends are then cut off; the roots are
thrown away, but the tops are threshed out and cleaned. Hemp-seed
is apt to spoil by remaining any length of time in a moist state.
As soon as the seed has been secured, the flax and hemp are steeped
in water, till the flax separate from the rind, and till the harl of the
hemp spring from the stalk. In soft water, in warm weather, nine or
ten days are sufficient for this purpose. In hard water with cold wea-
ther, from fourteen days to three weeks are requisite. Standing is pre-
ferred to running water. In the southern provinces of Poland steeping
is not practised, on the supposition that it weakens the harl and darkens
the colour; but this idea seems to be without foundation. When taken
out of the steep, the flax is dried on a grass field, and then gathered up
into small stacks; but the hemp, instead of being spread out, is set up
against walls till it be dried, and then both are housed. It is generally
understood in those countries, that the cultivation of flax and hemp is
more profitable than that of any kind of grain.
The management of flax in Ireland, is as follows. A good crop of
flax is there expected from any strong clay fit for corn: but an open
black loamy soil, enriched by lying long in pasture, is preferable. The
ground must be in fine tilth, and as free as possible from weeds. Po-
tatoes usually go before flax, though turnips, beans, or any manured
crop, are a good preparation; but the first or second crop after pasture
is preferred to any of those. Stubble lands that have been long in till-
age, may by preparation bring a crop: but it is apt to fail in such situ-
ations, the stalks turning to a reddish colour called firing, before it
ripen; upon which it must be immediately pulled. Two bushels of
seed are used to the English acre, unless for the purpose of a very fine
manufacture, when a larger quantity of seed is used, and the flax is
pulled very green. The season of sowing is the first fine weather after
the middle of March. The most approved culture is in beds six feet
broad, covering the seed about an inch and a half deep with earth
shovelled out of the furrows; but the most common way is to sow on
common ridges, and to harrow in the seed. Before the flax be five
inches high it should be carefully weeded by the hand, and if any plants
be lodged they are turned over. The produce is usually about L.7
Sterling the English acre. The crop should stand till the lower part of
the stalk become yellowish, and the under leaves begin to wither; un-
less the seed be to be preserved, which is done by rippling or drawing
the stalks through an iron comb; and the flax may be steeped immedi-
ately after it is pulled. Turf or peat bog water answers well: but
foul stagnated water stains the flax: too pure a spring is injurious; a
reservoir dug in clay is preferred: the flax is dried upon grass, by be-
ing spread thin: artificial heat has been recommended, but no good
method of doing so has yet been introduced.
In addition to the foregoing information, it may be of service to men-
tion a mode of weeding flax used in Scotland, which consists in turning
a flock of sheep at large into the flax field. The sheep will not taste
the flax plants, but they carefully search out and devour the weeds.
Rape, or cole seed. This seed as well as the seed of flax, or linseed,,
is cultivated for the making of oil, and it will grow almost in any place,
**
you
•


252
AGRICULTURE.
*
In the north of England, the farmers pare and burn their pasture funds,
and then sow them with rape, after one ploughing; the crop standing
for seed, which is ripe in July or the beginning of August. When fully
ripe, it is cut with sickles, and laid thin upon the ground to dry; and
when in a proper state for threshing out, the neighbours round are in-
vited to lend their assistance; on which account that is always a season
of merry-making among the farmers. The threshing is performed on a
large cloth spread out in the middle of the field, and the seed is put up
in sacks, and carried home. This operation must be done in the field,
because the seed would fall out of the pod were it carried to any distance.
The straw is burnt for the sake of the ashes, from which an alkali is ex-
tracted, not much inferior to the best brought from abroad. In Flan-
ders the cole-seed is sown in July, and the young plants are transplanted
out in September, by means of a narrow spade pushed into the ground,
and moved a little forwards and backwards, to make an opening to receive
the plants, placed in it by a boy or girl, who, with the foot, presses the
earth close again. When the plantation is done with the plough, the
plants are placed at regular distances in the furrow, leaning against one
side, and are covered by the earth turned up by the following furrow.
脊
​Coriander seed is used in large quantities by the distillers, confec-
tioners, and druggists; and the culture of that plant might be an object
for farmers residing near great towns. Ten perches of good sandy loam
were sown with coriander seeds, on the 23d of March, several years ago.
Three pounds of seed were sufficient; and the whole expence amounted
to five shillings and tenpence. The produce was 87 pounds of seed, which
at threepence per pound, gave a profit at the rate of L.15. 18. 4.
per acre.
Canary seed is cultivated in large quantities in that part of Kent
called the isle of Thanet, where it frequently gives twenty bushels to an
acre.

·
Woad is of so much use in dying, and the consumption of it is so
great, that the raising of the plant might undoubtedly be an object wor-
thy of the attention of the husbandman, provided he could get it pro-
perly manufactured for the dyers, and that he could overcome their pre-
judices. At present the growth of woad is in a manner confined to the
neighbourhood of Keynsham, near Bristol, where the soil is a blackish
heavy mould, with a considerable portion of clay, but which works free-
ly. An experiment was made on a hazel sandy loam, at a place in the
vicinity, where the plant throve perfectly well; the proprietor being,
however, unacquainted with the manner of preparing it for the dyer,
the plant ran to seed; shewing, at the same time, that it was very easily
cultivated.
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•

Hops. The uses of this plant, as an ingredient in malt liquors, are
well known : formerly, however, hops were esteemed to possess qualities
so noxious, that the use of them was prohibited by an act of parliament,
in the reign of James I. But although this act was never repealed, it
seems never to have been much attended to, as the use of hops has been
always continued, without any bad effects on the human constitution,
and has even been publicly recognised, in becoming the object of taxation.
The only question now is, whether or not hops be an article deserving
the attention of the husbandman; and the affirmative is, to say the least
of it, very doubtful. The culture of hops is in a great measure confined
to the southern counties of England: formerly some were raised in Nor
Y

AGRICULTURE.
258
folk, but that branch of husbandry has long been falling off in that quar-
ter. From long observation it is clear, that hops are, perhaps, the most
uncertain and precarious crop on which labour can be bestowed. Some
improvements might, however, be introduced in their management,
such as that of planting, and rearing them on espaliers like fruit trees.
This hint was taken from observing that a plant, which had been blown
down, and afterwards shot out horizontally, always produced a greater
quantity of blossom than those plants which grew upright. It has
also been observed, that hops late picked, produce more abundantly in
the following year, than those which are picked early; wherefore, late
picking ought to be preferred: but in the beginning of the season the
hops appear more beautiful than afterwards, and that is the only reason
for early picking.

*
Cultivation of fruit, for cyder and perry, is a principal branch of the
husbandry of Herefordshire and Gloucestershire. Considerable quan-
tities of those liquors, though in a much smaller proportion, are also
made in Devonshire.
:
Nature seems to have produced but one sort of apple and pear, name-
ly, the common crab of the woods and hedges, and the wild pear, which
is also not uncommon. The varieties of these fruits are entirely artificial,
being produced, not by seed, but by a certain mode of culture. It is,
perhaps, impossible to render the varieties of fruit altogether permanent:
the time comes when they can no longer be propagated with success.
The old fruits which raised the fame of the cyder and perry counties,
are either lost or irrecoverably declined. The red streak is given up;
the famous stir-apple is going off; and the squash-pear, which has pro-
bably furnished England with more genuine Champaign wine than ever
crossed the sea, can no longer be made to flourish. This decay among
fruit trees is also observed in other parts of the kingdom. Others are,
however, of opinion, that the degeneracy of fruit in the ancient orchards,
proceeds chiefly from not varying the seeds, by introducing those of
other and distant countries, as is always done with every kind of grain
or vegetables.


In raising new varieties of apples, the following simple process has
been found extremely useful. Choose among the native kinds the in-
dividuals of the highest flavour, and sow the seeds in a highly enriched
seed-bed, on a good loamy soil, which should be double-dug, from 12 to
18 inches, and kept perfectly clean. The surface being raked and level-
led fine, the seeds are scattered on the bed, about an inch asunder, and
covered half an inch deep with some of the finest mould, previously
raked off the bed for the purpose. During summer, the young plants
should be kept clear of weeds, and may be taken up for transplantation
the ensuing winter, or if not very thick in the bed, they may remain in it
till the second winter. The nursery ground ought also to be enriched,
and double-dug, to the depth of 14 inches at least, though 18 or 20 will
do better. The tap-roots should be taken off, and the longer side-
roots shortened; the young trees are then planted in rows, three feet
asunder, from 15 to 18 inches distant in the rows. If intended merely
for stocks to be grafted, they may remain there till they grow large
enough to be planted out; though, in strictness, they ought to be re-
transplanted two years before they go to the orchard. From among
seedlings, select the plants of which the wood and leaves have the most
apple-like appearance: transplant these into a rich deep soil, in a kindly
the

254
AGRICULTURE.
situation, letting them remain in this nursery until they begin to bear.
With the seeds of the fairest, richest, and best flavoured fruit, repeat this
process, and in due time ingraft the wood which produced this fruit
on that of the richest, sweetest, and best flavoured apple. Repeating
this operation, and transferring the subject under a course of improve-
ment, from one tree and sort to another, as good qualities may require;
by this double course of melioration, the desired fruit will at last be
obtained.
While fruit trees remain in the nursery, the intervals between them
may be occupied by such kitchen stuff as will not crowd or overshadow
the plants, keeping the rows always perfectly clean. In pruning them,
the leader should be particularly attended to. If they shoot double, the
weakest of the two shoots should be taken off; but if the leader be lost,
and not easily recoverable, the plant should be cut down to within a
hand's breadth of the ground, and a fresh stem trained up. The under-
most boughs should be taken off by degrees, going over the plants every
winter, but taking care to preserve heads of sufficient size, not to draw
up the stems too tall, which would make them feeble in the lower part.
In Herefordshire, the stems are trained to the height of six feet; but some
skilful cultivators would train them to seven or eight feet. A tall stemmed
tree is far less injurious to what grows beneath it than a low-headed
tree; and the short stemmed tree is itself the more exposed to accidental
injury. The thickness of the stem ought to be in propoportion to its
height; wherefore, a tall stock ought to remain longer in the nursery
than a low one. The usual size at which they are planted out in Here-
fordshire, is from four to six inches girt, at three feet high, which size the
trees will reach, with proper management, in seven or eight years. In
Herefordshire, it is common to have the ground of the orchards in til-
lage, but in Gloucestershire in grass, on account of the different soils;
that of the former county being in general arable, and that of the latter
in grass. Trees, however, are very destructive, not only to corn, but to
clover and turnips, at the same time that tillage is favourable to fruit
trees, especially while young. In grass grounds their growth is com-
paratively slow, for want of the earth being stirred about them, and by
being injured by cattle. When trees begin to bear, cattle should never
go near them, not only because these destroy all the fruit within their
reach, but on account of the accidents which happen to the cattle them-
selves, by the young harsh fruit sticking in their throats, and choking
them.



The natural enemies of fruit trees are, 1st, a redundancy of wood; for
the barren branches not only deprive the bearers of nourishment, but
present a greater surface to violent shaking winds, and retain so much
damp, and so much prevent the circulation of air, that only the outside
of the tree can bear fruit. 2d, The misletoe, in the cyder counties, is
very hurtful to the apple-tree; but it may be easily pulled out with hooks
in frosty weather.-Sheep are fond of misletoe as well as of ivy. 3d,
Moss can be got the better of only by industry in clearing the trees: in
Kent there are people who make a profession to do so. 4th, Spring frosts,
succeeding suddenly to rain, are heavy enemies to fruit trees; dry frosts
only keep back the blossom for some time. No remedy can be applied in
these cases but to keep the trees in a healthy state, and as thin of wood as
possible. 5th, Blight is a term applied to fruit trees, without any proper
meaning. Two bearing years seldom come together; but it is probably
-


AGRICULTURE.
255
the exhaustion of the first year that prevents a second crop from being
plentiful or good. 6. Insects destroy not only the blossoms and leaves, but
also the fruit, especially pears. In some years much mischief is done by
wasps :-if a small price were set upon the female wasps, which are easily
known, those insects might soon be materially lessened in an orchard.
8. An excess of fruit stints the growth of young trees, and, in general,
renders all trees barren in two or three years, while in many cases the
branches are broken or strained by the load of fruit. To prevent such
excess, it has been recommended to graft in the boughs, and when fully
grown to thin the bearing branches; then endeavouring, like the gardener,
to grow fruit every year. Considering fruit trees as a crop of husbandry,
the general management seems to be this: plant upon a worn-out, newly
broken up sward; keep the soil under a state of arable management,
until the trees be well grown; then lay it down to grass, and let it re-
main in sward until the trees be removed, and their roots be decayed;
when it will again require a course of arable management.
Management of the Dairy. On a subject of such extent and variety,
the limits of this work will permit only the following general remarks to
be given.



To make cows give abundance of milk, and of a good quality, they
must at all times have abundance of food. Grass is the best food yet
known for this purpose, and that kind of grass which springs up of itself,
on rich dry soils, is the best of all. If the state of the weather, in point
of heat, be such as to allow the cows to graze at ease throughout the
day, they should be suffered to range over such pastures at freedom ;
but if the cows are so much incommoded by the heat as to be hindered
from eating through the day, they ought to be taken into cool sheds for
shelter, where, after allowing them a proper time to ruminate, that is,
to chew the cud, they should be supplied with plenty of green food,
fresh cut for the purpose, and given to them by hand frequently, in small
quantities, fresh and fresh, to engage them to eat it with pleasure. When
the heat of the day is over, and they can remain abroad with ease, they
may be again turned into the pasture, where they should be allowed to
range with freedom all night, during the mild weather of summer.

Cows, if abundantly fed, should be milked three, times a-day, during
the whole of the summer season; in the morning early, at noon, and in
the evening, just before night-fall. In the choice of persons for milking,
great caution should be employed; for, if that operation be not care-
fully and properly performed, not only the quantity of the produce of
the dairy will be greatly diminished, but its quality also will be very
much debased. If all the milk be not thoroughly drawn from the cow,
that portion of milk which is left in the udder seems to be gradually
absorbed, or taken back into her body; and nature will, in that case,
produce and give out no more milk than will be sufficient to supply the
waste occasioned by the portion taken away, instead of a quantity equal
to the whole of what was in the udder before milking. If this lessened
quantity be not again thoroughly drawn off, it will occasion a still fur-
ther diminution of the quantity of milk formed in the cow; and thus,
by a perpetual progression from less to less, after some time, no milk at
all will be produced. This, we know, is the gradual course followed,
when it is intended to let a cow's milk dry up entirely, without doing
her hurt: and by ignorance or inattention on this important though
simple process of nature, the profits of a dairy, and even the well-being

¿
·
!

256
AGRICULTURE.
of the cows themselves, may be most materially impaired. The impor
tance of these remarks will be evident from a consideration of the fol-
lowing facts :---
1. Of the milk drawn from any cow at one time, that which comes
off at the first is always thinner, and of a much worse quality, than that
which comes away afterwards: and the richness goes on continually in-
creasing to the very last drop that can be drawn off at that time. An
intelligent master of a dairy made a number of experiments on this sub-
ject, of which the following were the results. Having taken a number
of large tea-cups, and weighed them with great exactness, he filled them
in succession from the first to the last of one milking of a number of
different cows, the last cup being filled with the dregs of the stroakings.
In the first place it appeared, that the quantity of cream obtained from
the first drawn cup was, in every case, much smaller than that from the
last drawn cup; and the quantities from the intermediate cups increas-
ed regularly as they were later and later in being filled from the cows.
So great was the difference between the first and the last cup, from
some cows, that the last contained sixteen times the quantity of cream
produced from the first cup. In no cow was this difference below
eight to one; so that upon an average of a number of cows the cup-full
of the dregs of the stroakings afforded twelve times the quantity of cream
produced by the cup filled with the first of the milking. Again, the
difference in the quality of the cream obtained from the first and last
cups was still much greater than the difference of the quantity. In the
first drawn cup the cream was a thin tough film or skin, thinner and
whiter than writing paper; in the last drawn cup the cream was of a
thick buttery consistence, and of a glowing richness of colour, which no
other kind of cream ever possesses. In the last place, the difference in
the quality of the milk remaining in the cups, after the cream was se-
parated, was still greater than either, in respect to the quantity or the
quality of the cream. The milk in the first cup was a thin bluish liquid,
as if a very large proportion of water had been mixed with ordinary
milk: but that in the last drawn cup was of a thick consistence, and a
yellow colour, more resembling cream than milk, in both taste and ap-
pearance. From these accurate and most important experiments it ap-
pears, that the person who, by bad milking of his cows, loses but half a
pint of the last of the milk, loses in fact about as much cream as would
be afforded by six or eight pints of milk at the beginning, and loses be-
sides, precisely that portion of the cream which alone can give the highest
richness and flavour to his butter.
·
·
2. If milk be put into a dish, and allowed to stand till it cream, that
portion of the cream which first rises is richer in quality, and more in
quantity than what rises in an equal time, next afterwards; and so on
the cream decreasing in quantity, and declining in quality, in equal
times from the first to the last. Whether or not a greater quantity of
cream may be taken from a given quantity of milk, by skimming it at
different times, or by leaving it all on to the last, is a point not yet well
ascertained.
3
→
*
3. Thick milk always throws up a smaller proportion of cream than
thinner milk: but then the cream is of a richer quality. If water be
added to thick milk, it will throw up a considerably greater quantity of
cream than the milk alone would have done; but the quality is at the
same time greatly lowered.
CE AND
-


•
AGRICULTURE.
457
}
4. Milk put into a bucket or pail, and carried to a considerable dis-
tance, so as to be much agitated, and in part cooled, before it be put
into the milk pans to settle for cream, never throws up so much nor so
rich cream as if the same milk had been put into the creaming-pans,
directly after it was milked.
:
From the foregoing well-established facts, the following conclusions
may be drawn :
1. It is of importance that the cows should be milked as near as pos-
sible to the dairy, to prevent the necessity of carrying and cooling the
milk, before it be put into the creaming-pans: and as cows are much
hurt by far driving, it must be a great advantage in a dairy farm, to have
the principal grass fields as near the dairy or home-stead as possible.
:
2. The practice of putting the milk of all the cows of a large dairy
into one vessel, as it is milked, there to remain till the whole milking is
finished, before any part of it is put into the pans, seems to be highly
injudicious: not only on account of the loss sustained by agitation and
cooling, but more especially because it prevents the dairy master from
distinguishing the milk of the good cows from that of the bad cows, so
as to keep them separate if necessary. He may thus have the whole of
his dairy debased by the milk of one bad cow, and this for years toge-
ther, without his being able to account for it.
3. If it be intended to make butter of a very fine quality, it will be
proper in all cases to keep the milk that is first drawn separate from that
which comes last: for if this be not done, the quality of the butter will
certainly be much lowered, at the same time that the small additional
quantity obtained from the first milk will not in price make up for the
loss sustained in point of goodness. Examples of this separation of the
first from the last milk at a milking, occur in some mountainous and
pasture countries, particularly in the Highlands of Scotland: As the
rearing of calves is there a principal object with the farmer, every cow
is allowed to suckle her own calf, with the first part of her milk, the re-
mainder only being reserved for the dairy. In order to give the calf its
portion regularly, it is separated from the cow, and kept in an inclosure
containing all the calves belonging to the same farm. At regular times
the cows are brought to the door of the inclosure, where the calves are
sure to meet them. Each calf is then separately let out, and runs di-
rectly to its mother, where it sucks till the dairy-maid judge it to have
enough. Boys then drive back the calf with switches, (but never beat,
drag or force it,) while the mother is kept behind, by simply shackling
her hind legs; and the dairy-maid milks off what was left by the calf:
this is done till all the cows that have calves are milked. The quantity
of butter obtained by this management, it is true, is comparatively small:
but it produces, in conjunction with the sweet herbage where the cows
feed, the richest marrowy butter that can be desired.



4. If the quality rather than the quantity of the butter by the chief
object, it will be necessary not only to separate the first from the last
drawn milk, but also to take nothing but the cream that is first separated
from the best milk; because it is this first rising cream alone that is of
the best quality. The remainder of the milk, which will be still sweet,
may be either employed in making sweet-milk cheese, or allowed to
stand, to throw up cream for making butter of an inferior quality.
5. It follows that butter of the very best possible quality can be ob-
tained only from a dairy of considerable extent; for it is only from the
L L
}


258
AGRICULTURE.
great quantity of milk given by a great number of cows that as much
of the prime cream can be collected as will render its manufacture se-
parately into butter worthy of attention.
6 From what has been said we are naturally led to draw another
conclusion, very different from the opinion commonly entertained on
this subject, namely that it is probable that the very best butter might
be made, with economical management, in those dairies only where the
making of cheese is the principal object of the farmer. The reasons of
this conclusion are obvious; for if only a small quantity of milk be set
apart for butter, all the rest may be made into cheese, while it is yet
warm from the cow, and perfectly sweet; and if only that portion of
cream which rises during the first three or four hours after milking is to
be reserved for butter, the rich milk which is left, after that cream is
separated, being still perfectly sweet, may be converted into cheese,
with as great advantage nearly as the newly-milked milk itself.
Butter, though used at present as food in most countries of Europe,
was but very imperfectly known to the ancients. In our translation of
the Hebrew Scriptures in the Old Testament, mention is often made of
butter at very early periods of the history of the world: but the greatest
masters of biblical criticism unanimously agree that the word so trans-
lated signifies milk, or rather the cream of milk, and can not possibly
mean what we call butter. The original Hebrew word signifies some-
thing liquid, which was used for washing the feet of the wealthy as a
luxury, which was also drank, and which had sometimes the power of
causing inebriation: and it is known that in Arabia, and other eastern
nations, the milk of mares may be so prepared as to produce that effect.
The oldest mention of real butter is in the account, given by the
Greek historian Herodotus, who flourished four hundred years before
the Christian era, of the Scythians: he says "these people pour the
milk of their mares into wooden vessels, cause it to be violently stirred
or shaken by their blind slaves, and separate the part which rises up to
the surface, as they consider it to be more delicious and valuable than
what remains below."


"
The effects of turnips and cabbages on milk and butter, may be re-
medied in the following very simple way: it is thus described by an
eminent gentleman-farmer of Shropshire. "I find by experience," says
he, " that a small bit of saltpetre, powdered, and put into the milk-pan,
with the new milk, does effectually prevent the cream and butter from
being tainted, although the cows be fed on the refuse leaves of cabbages
and turnips. In the beginning of this last winter, my men were very
careful in not giving to the cows any outside or decayed leaves of the
cabbages and turnips; yet the cream and butter were sadly tainted; but
as soon as the dairy-maid used the saltpetre, all the taint was done away;
and afterwards no care was taken in feeding the cows, for they had
cabbages and turnips in all states. Our milk-pans hold about nine pints
of milk.”

Butter is the fat, oily, and inflammable part of milk: it is naturally
distributed through all the substance of the milk, in very small particles,
interspersed between the caseous or cheesy, and the serous or watery
parts, among which it is suspended by a slight adhesion, but not dissolv-
ed. When butter is in the state of cream, its properly oily parts are not
yet sufficiently united together, to form an uniform mass; they are still
separated in some measure by a pretty large quantity of serous, and
AGRICULTURE.
259
caseous particles. The butter is completely formed by pressing out
these other particles, by means of continued percussion, or beating the
cream with some hard substance; and this is the nature and effect of
churning.
Cheese, the other grand object of the dairy, is the curd of milk, pre-
cipitated or separated from the serous or watery particles called whey,
by means of an acid. Cheese differs in quality, according as it is made
from new or skimmed milk, from the curd which separates of itself
upon standing, or from that which is more speedily produced by the
addition of runnet. Cream also affords a kind of cheese, but quite fat
and buttery, which does not keep long. When chemically examined,.
cheese appears to partake much more of an animal nature than butter,
or the milk from which it was made. As a food, physicians condemn
the use of cheese in great quantities: when new, it is difficult of diges-
tion; and when old, it becomes acrid and hot; and experiment has
shewn, that it is of a septic nature, that is, that it has a tendency to
promote putrefaction. It is a common opinion, that old cheese digests
every thing in the stomach, but remains undigested itself: the first part
of the assertion is certainly true; but the last part is most probably
false. Gloucester cheese is made from new, or as it is called in that and
the adjoining counties, covered milk: an inferior sort is made from what
is called half-covered milk: though, when any of these last cheeses turn
out to be good, many people are deceived, and purchase them for the
best covered-milk cheese: but farmers who are honest, and set a value
on the reputation of their dairies, as well as on their own, have the
cheeses stamped with a piece of wood, in the shape of a heart, to dis-
tinguish them. Chedder cheese is in high esteem; but its goodness is
chiefly owing to the land on which the cows feed, for the method of
making is the same with that pursued in other parts of Somersetshire.
Cheshire cheese is in great reputation; yet no people take less pains
with their runnet than the Cheshire farmers. Their cheeses, however,
are so large, as often to exceed one hundred pounds weight; to which
may be attributed their excellence, joined to the age they are kept, the
richness of the land, and above all, to the keeping of such a number of
cows as to make such a cheese at once, without adding a second meal's
milk. It is true that the curd is salted, and the cheeses are kept in a
damp place, where they are carefully turned every day.
Stilton cheeses are made in round or square vats, and weigh from six
to twelve pounds each. Immediately after they are made, it is neces-
sary to put them into boxes, made exactly to fit them; for, being ex-
tremely rich, they would, without that precaution, swell out, and burst.
They should be continually turned every day, in the boxes, and must
be kept two years before they are properly mellowed for sale. Some
farmers make these cheeses in a net, so that they look when made not
unlike an acorn; but these are never so good as the others, having a
´thicker coat, and wanting that rich flavour and mellowness, which ren-
ders them so agredable to the palate. The making of these cheeses is
by no means confined to Stilton and its vicinity; for many farmers in
Huntingdonshire (not forgetting Rutland and Northamptonshire), make
a similar sort, which they sell for the same price; and all pass under
the name of Stilton cheeses.
The Stilton farmers makes a cheese every morning; and to this meal
of new milk they add the cream taken from that which was milked the
L
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260
AGRICULTURE.
night before. This practice, and the age of their cheeses, have been
considered as the only cause of the excellence of the cheese; for, from
the nicest observation, it does not appear that the land is, in any respect,
superior to that of other counties, where no such cheese is made.
Parmesan cheese. No country certainly produces so much, and so ex-
cellent cheese, as England. In different parts of the continent, how-
cver, cheese is made, and in considerable quantities, deservedly enjoy-
ing a high reputation. Of such cheese, the most celebrated is the Par-
mesan, so called, because in former times, chiefly made in the environs
of Parma and Placentia, on the south side of the river Po, in the heart
of Lombardy, in the north of Italy. For many years past, however,
this cheese is principally supplied by the rich pastures on the north side
of the Po, extending from Placentia, by Lodi, to Milan. That tract of
the country is a fine level plain, naturally well watered by rivers and
rivulets, and artificially intersected and crossed in all directions by canals
of irrigation in the most advantageous manner. Of the manner of wa-
tering these pastures, and of manufacturing the cheese, still known by the
name of Parmesan, although now chiefly produced near Lodi, the fol-
lowing accurate account is given by a very competent judge, the cele-
brated agriculturist, Arthur Young, collected during his travels on the
continent in the years 1787, 1788, and 1789.
"The practice of irrigation, or of watering lands," says Mr. Young,
"is of unknown antiquity in Lombardy. Of all the exertions I have any
where seen, in irrigation, they are by far the greatest between Milan
and Lodi. The canals are not only more numerous, more incessant,
and without interruption, but are conducted with the most attention,
care, and expence. There is, for the most of the way, one canal on each
side of the road; and sometimes two cross canals are thrown over these
on arches, and pass in trunks of brick or stone under the road. A very
considerable one, after passing for several miles by the side of the high-
way, sinks under it, and also under two other canals, carried in stone
troughs eight feet wide, and at the same time under a smaller, that is
conducted in wood. The variety of directions in which the water is
carried, the ease with which it flows in contrary directions, the obstacles
which are overcome, are all objects of admiration. The expence thus
employed, in the twenty miles from Milan to Lodi, is immense. There
is but little rice, and some arable, which does not seem under the best
management; but the grass and clover are rich and luxuriant." [Here
Mr. Young might have added, that besides grass and clover, these pas-
tures abound in a variety of other natural plants, which give a peculiar
flavour and richness to the milk.] "There are here great herds of cows,
to which all this country ought to be applied. I cannot but esteem the 20
miles as affording one of the most curious and valuable prospects in the
power of a farmer to view. We have some undertakings in England that
are meritorious: but they sink to nothing in comparison with these great
and truly noble works. This is one of the rides which I wish those to
take who think that every thing is to be seen in England.
་
"The method of making the cheese, known in England by the name
of Parmesan, was an object I wished to understand as well as possible..
The idea is, that all depends on soil, climate, and irrigation; and the
boasted account, that the kings of Naples and Spain, in order to make si-
milar cheese in their territories, at least for their own tables, had procured
men of skill from the Milanese for this purpose ;-all this contributes to
AGRICULTURE.
26L
}
give a readiness every where in answering questions, as they are all
every where very well persuaded, that such cheese can be made no
where else.
·
{
"In order that I might view the process to advantage, a scientific
friend in Milan conducted me to a noted dairy belonging to the family
of Leti. It is, in the first place, necessary to observe, that the cheeses
are made entirely of skimmed milk, that of the preceding evening mixed
with the morning's milk: the former had stood sixteen or seventeen
hours; the latter about six hours. The runnet is formed into balls, and
dissolved in the hand in the milk: the preparation is made a secret of;
but it is generally known, that the stomach of the calf is dressed with
spices and salt. The runnet was put to the milk at twelve o'clock, not
in a tub, but in the cauldron or boiler turned from off the fire-place at
ten o'clock. The heat was 82° of Fahrenheit, the atmosphere being
at the same time 70º of Fahrenheit. In summer, the whole operation
is finished by eight in the morning, as the heat of the weather sours the
milk in the middle of the day. At one o'clock, the manager of the
dairy examined the coagulation, and finding it complete, he ordered
his deputy to work it, which he did with a stick armed with cross wires;
an operation to serve instead of cutting and breaking the curd, as is
done in England, free from the whey. When he has reduced it to such
a firmness of grain as satisfies the manager, it is left to subside, till the
curd being quite sunk, the whey is nearly clear on the surface. Then
the cauldron which contains it is turned back again over the fire-hearth,
and a quick fire made, to give it the scald rapidly. A small quantity of
finely powdered saffron is added, the deputy stirring it all the time with
a wired machine, to keep it from burning. The manager examined it,
from time to time, between his fingers and thumb, to mark the moment
when the right degree of solidity and firmness of grain is attained.
The heat was 1244 of Fahrenheit; but it is often 1319. When the
manager finds it well granulated by the scalding, he orders his deputy
to turn it off the fire; and as soon as a certain degree of subsidence has
taken place, empties about three-fourths of the whey, in order the bet-
ter to command the curd. He then pours three or four gallons of cold
water round the bottom of the cauldron, to cool it enough for handling
the curd. Then he bends himself into the vessel, in a formidable man-
ner, to view it, resting his feet against the tub of whey, and with his
hands loosens the curd at the bottom, and works it into one mass, that
it may lie conveniently for him to slide the cloth under it, which he
does with much dexterity, so as to inclose the whole curd. To enable
him the easier, he returns the whey into the cauldron, which in some
degree floats up the curd, which, when taken out, rests for a quarter of
an hour or so in a tub to drain. The cheese-vat, in the mean time, is
prepared, in a broad hoop of willow, with a cord round to tighten it;
and it widens or contracts at pleasure, according to the size of the
cheese. Into this vat the curd is fixed, and the cloth is folded over it,
and tucked in around. This is placed on a table, slightly inclining, to
carry off the whey that drains from the cheese. A round plank, three
inches thick, shod with iron, like the block-wheel of a barrow, is laid on
the cheese, and a stone, about thrice the size of a man's head, is laid on
that, which is all the press used; and there ends the operation. The
cheese of the preceding day was in a hoop, without any cloth, and many
others were salting, in different hoops, for 30 or 40 days, according to
1
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262
•
AGRICULTURE.
the season; 30 in summer, and 40 in winter. When done, the cheeses
are scraped clean, and then rubbed, and turned in the magazine every
day, and rubbed with a little linseed oil on the coats, to preserve them
from insects of all sorts. They are never sold till six months old.
"When this business is finished, the morning's butter-milk is added
to the whey, and heated, and a stronger acid or runnet used, to make
whey-cheese. These cheeses, which are small, are kept in wooden
cases, in the smoke of the chimney."
Of the manufacture of Parmesan cheese, another account, by Mr.
Pryce, will be found in the 7th vol. of the papers of the Bath Agricul-
tural Society.
Before concluding these general observations on the nature and prac-
tice of the first and most important of the arts, agriculture, it will gratify
many practical readers to be presented wish a short statement of the
principles on which the system of cultivation now practised in the
northern portion of the island is founded, and by which it has acquired
its present celebrity. In the course of last year appeared from the
press
a General Report of the Agricultural state of Scotland, for the consideration
of the British board of agriculture, by the president, the Right Hon.
Sir John Sinclair, bart. This report it is impossible to peruse without
experiencing the highest satisfaction; for the greater part of it is written
by plain practical farmers, or other persons personally concerned in
husbandry; a most valuable class of men, whom, it was usual, down
even to no remote period, to reproach for ignorance, and obstinate ad-
herence to old and unreasonable customs, The cultivators of almost
every part of Europe have long continued stationary, neither inventing
nor adopting improvements of any kind; forming almost the lowest or-
der in society, and still, in some parts of the continent, sunk in a state of
hopeless slavery. In this favoured island, on the contrary, farmers have
been roused, and have emerged from sloth and ignorance; and they, con-
sequently, now share largely in the general improvement, to which their
own knowledge, industry, and spirit, have greatly contributed. In the
report, the different courses of management, their fitness for the varie-
ties of soil and climate, and the manner in which the several operations
are conducted with the greatest saving of labour and capital, are pre-
cisely described by persons who wrote from their own experience. The
best proof of the excellency of the husbandry now adopted in Scotland,
is the amount of the surplus produce, obtained from a soil seldom na-
turally very rich, and under a climate rather unkindly. This is shown
by the revenue of the landholder, which is considerably greater than
what is drawn from other land under circumstances much more favour-
able. This revenue, too, is paid, not from the savings of extreme parsi-
mony, but from the liberal profits of money judiciously laid out in culti-
vation. While this revenue had advanced at a rate much higher than
the price of the produce of land, the profits of the farmer, and the wages
of the labourer, have been proportionally augmented. To support all
these increased charges, the marketable produce, for general consump-
tion, has been greatly increased.
In all systems of rural economy, the most important points are, first,
such as relate to means of preserving and increasing the fertility of the
soil, and of drawing from it the most valuable products; and next, the





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AGRICULTURE.
263
S
arrangements which have for their object, to obtain these products with
the greatest possible saying of capital and labour. It is not enough that
our fields give large crops, without impairing the vigor of the soil; the
neat profits may be still inconsiderable; or the whole may be consumed
in producing the crop. In the present state of our country, this is a
matter of the utmost importance, when the greater part of the people are
otherwise employed than in the cultivation of the soil.
a
The circumstances which have principally contributed to the great
and rapid progress of the art of husbandry in Scotland, are the follow-
ing. The introduction of turnips and clover, has, in a few years, ef-
fected an improvement in almost every branch of husbandry, much
greater than will easily be believed by those who look only to the value
of these crops in the market. By their means, inferior soils, which it
was impossible to cultivate with profit under the old system of succes-
sive corn-crops, have been rendered productive. Even on land of
better quality, the crops which succeed those, yield double the former
produce; so that the whole turnips and clover may be said to be clear
gain. Fallow has been banished by turnips from dry soils; and where.
land is laid down for pasture, one acre of clover and rye-grass will fatten
more stock than could formerly exist on ten acres of foul natural growth.
The vast addition to both the quantity and the quality of manure, by
the consumption of green clover and turnips, is so powerful a recom-
mendation, that in many quarters turnips are now raised for this very
purpose alone, on soils not naturally suited to them. Both clover and
turnips were cultivated in England above 150 years ago; the latter,
however, only in gardens, although their value, in feeding cattle and
sheep, was then not unknown; and it was not till the early part of the
last century that they were sown in the open field. To the celebrated
Tull England is indebted for the most approved mode of raising turnips;
although we have now reduced his ridges of 6 feet to others of 27 or 30
inches. The reasons he gives for sowing on narrow ridgelets are so just
and so universally felt to be so in Scotland, that it is surprising he should
have made so few converts, even at this day, among his countrymen
in the southern parts of the island. Even round the metropolis it-
self, broadcast is almost the only mode employed to raise so valuable
and useful a root. The most common application of turnips in the north,
was at first to fatten cattle; but on light soils, the full benefit of the crop
was not obtained until the greater part was consumed by sheep on the
ground. Turnips raised on clay soils, are those still carried to the fold-
yard, for the purpose of converting the straw into manure, and on dry
loams, they are usually divided betwen the sheep and the fold-yards,
by drawing off and leaving ridgelets alternately. The poorest sandy
soils yield good crops of com after turnips consumed by sheep on the
ground, being consolidated and enriched at the same time. At first,
almost the whole crop of clover and rye-grass was reserved for hay: but
this was soon found to be an unprofitable plan upon dry soils, which are
now mostly pastured the very first year. On loams and clays, a con-
siderable portion of the crop is cut green for horses and cows, and, in
some instances, for rearing and fattening cattle. This practice, which
is called soiling, deserves to be more generally adopted, both for econo-
my, and for increasing and enriching the dunghill it has been employ-
ed on a large scale, and with great success, by the patriotic Mr. Curwen,
of Workington Hall, in Cumberland. Whateve may have been the
{"
:


7

CAM
-St
6
264
AGRICULTURÊ.
;
I
:
.1
·
1
influence of potatoes upon the population, it is impossible to ascribe to
them any great efficacy in the improvement of agriculture in general.
They were first cultivated in the open fields in Scotland in 1789, in the
county of Stirling. In the western counties where there are many
small farms, they are raised to a great extent; but, on the east coast,
where modern husbandry has made the greatest progress, they do not
enter largely into any rotation of crops, excepting near great towns..
The manure they require, and their great bulk and weight, in propor-
tion to their. value, which do not allow them to be carried to a distance,
are serious objections to their extended culture. Even their employ-
ment in feeding horses and cattle is now much diminished, since the in-
troduction of yellow and Swedish turnips. Potatoes cannot be substi-
tuted like turnips for summer fallow, even on dry soils; and on strong
clays they do not prosper: for such soils beans are preferred for a rota-
tion crop, which when drilled and hoed, supersede the necessity of
fallowing oftener than once in a rotation of 6 or 8 years.
Among the varieties of corn recently introduced into Scotland, the
most valuable is what is called the potatoe-oat. It is said to have been
discovered growing in a field of wheat in Cumberland, in 1788; and
from the produce of a single grain have been derived those large and
productive crops now to be found throughout all the northern counties
of Britain. Scarcely any other variety of oats is cultivated upon low
and fertile soils in Scotland; for the produce in both corn and meal is
greater on such land, than that of any other kind of oats. One great
advantage of the potatoe-oat is, that it may be sown in spring on ground
where the autumn wheats have partly failed. The old practice of tak-
ing two corn crops in succession from the same field is now abolished,
by the culture of turnips, clover, and drilled beans; one of which, or
of potatoes, or peas, or a fallow, is universally interposed between every
two culmiferous crops. The most common rotation of crops, on the
best dry soils, lasts for 4 years, viz. 1. wheat or oats from grass, 2. tur-
nips, 3. wheat, barley, or oats, 4. clover, and rye-grass; one half of the
farm being under green crops, and the other under white. But on soils
of flinty sand, it is necessary to keep the clover land for some years in
pasture, unless more manure can be given to it than arises from its own
produce. On strong clays the rotations are more varied. On the best
soils, wheat and beans have been taken alternately for a number of years:
but the most frequent courses are those of 4 and 6 years in this order,
viz. 1. fallow, 2. wheat, 3. clover and rye-grass, 4. oats or barley; or in
this way, 1. fallow, 2. wheat, 3. clover and rye-grass, 4. oats or barley,
5. beans, 6. wheat. Sometimes the clover and rye-grass are put off to
the 5th year, in this order, fallow, wheat, beans, barley or oats, clover,
oats; but by this mode the land is neither so clean, nor so finely pulve-
rized as it should be for clover. On clayey soils, the most judicious
farmers consider a complete fallow as the foundation of every profitable
rotation: in the light soils of the southern counties of England, fal-
lows may be less necessary; but sufficient trials have not yet been made,
to enable the husbandman to make up his mind in general on the much
disputed point of the utility of fallows. It is by this regular and suc-
cessive change of white and green crops, this skilful alternation of till-
age and pasture, that the husbandry of the north has acquired its re-
putation.
On the subject of manuring it is to be observed, that the crops are

•
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14
AGRICULTURE.
265
•
{
now cut very low; the straw of the white corns is chiefly used to al-
sorb the excrementitious matters of the domestic animals; the juices of
the dunghills are carefully preserved from waste; the dunghill itself
being greatly augmented, and enriched by the consumption of green
clover and turnips, and made to undergo a greater or less degree of fer-
mentation and putrefaction, according to the soils and crops for which
it is intended. Dung is never laid on foul land, and but very rarely on
pasture or hay ground, as we see done in the environs of London: it is
distributed carefully over a third or a fourth part of the land in tillage,
and over the whole in succession, at the time when the soil is in a state
to receive the greatest benefit from its operation. For a drilled crop of
turnip it is indispensable that the manure be well rotted, that it may
quickly hasten the growth of a plant which, in its infancy, is exposed
to many deadly enemies. Potatoes will rise abundantly from fresh un-
fermented manure; and for clay soils, whether in fallow preparing for
autumn wheat, or for beans, as the manure has a long time to decom-
pose in the ground, less previous putrefaction is necessary than for tur-
nips. In the best cultivated counties in Scotland, a material improve-
ment has taken place in the use of lime, being now generally laid on
finely pulverized land while under fallow, or immediately before it be
sown with turnips. Sometimes lime is laid in spring on land intended
for pasture, and harrowed in with gress-seeds, instead of being covered
by the plough. By this management prodigious improvement has been
produced on hill-pastures. But in whatever way this powerful stimu-
lant is applied, great care is now taken not to exhaust the soil by a suc-
cession of white crops.


The plough now introduced into universal use in the north, has its
name from the inventor James Small, who produced it in 1763. Be-
fore that introduction, ploughs were worked with 4 oxen and 2 horses,
even in the best quarters: but by his improvements the moving power
required was reduced two-fifths, while the work is executed by his
plough with much greater accuracy, in regard to the depth and
breadth of the furrow-slice, and the angle at which it should rest, than
by the old ploughs: some of Small's ploughs made wholly of iron,
have lately been found very useful. Ploughs drawn by two horses
only, and even by one, were well known in England 170 years ago;
and the Rotheram plough was known by patent in 1720: yet in many
of the southern counties 3, 4, and sometimes 5 horses are still yoked to
a machine clumsy and unmanageable, which neither goes over so much
ground in a given time, nor performs the work so well as the 2 horse
plough of the north part of the island. The expence of ploughing with
a 4 horse team, attended by a driver besides the ploughman; even should
the horses do all other sorts of work in proportion to their number, can-
not be so little as 50 per cent. more than the expence of ploughing with
2 horses. The yearly charge of the small plough in Scotland is about
L.120 on an average; and as 60 acres may be cultivated by it, in the
rotation of crops, the yearly expence is L.2 per acre: when 4 horses
are employed it cannot be less than L.3, and probably a good deal more.
By this practice therefore the rent must be diminshed L.1 per acre, and
the farmer must lose the profit on so much capital wastefully employed.
But this is not all; every well-fed horse consumes the produce of 4
acres of middling land; so that 8 acres, which under good manage-
ми


266.
AGRICULTURE.
ment would yield food for at least half as many human beings, are thus
wantonly sacrificed to inexcusable prejudice and perversity.
It is not here that the reader will expect an enquiry into the relative
utility and value of oxen and horses in the labours of husbandry: it is
however a certain fact, that in Scotlaud, with a very few exceptions,
oxen have been laid aside, in exact proportion to the progress of modern
agriculture. As on a point of this sort the authority of scientific
expe-
rience must have great weight, it is to be remarked, that the French
(who during the long continued disorders with which their country has
been visited, have used every effort, and most successfully, both in
theory and in practice, to improve every branch of their cultivation)
seem to think as meanly of ox teams as the farmers of Scotland. In a
complete treatise on husbandry, published in 1809, by the agricultural
department of the Institute of France, it is expressly stated that all la-
bour in the best cultivated districts, and upon a large scale, is perform-
ed by horses instead of oxen. This preference is said to proceed, not
from a blind attachment to old custom, but from accurate and experi-
mental observation, and an impartial comparison of the advantages and
disadvantages accruing from the employment of those two kinds of
animals.

The threshing-mill has also had a powerful effect not only in diminish-
ing the charges, but in augmenting the marketable produce of the land.
This most useful machine was brought to its perfection about 1786; and
is now employed in Scotland on almost every farm of 2 or more
ploughs; being wrought by water, wind, or animal power; and in
some instances even by steam. The saving of labour by this machine,
particularly when driven by water, is so great, that every kind of
grain is thrashed and dressed for market at the expence of the dressing
alone when the flail is employed. The grain is also by this mill much
more perfectly separated from the straw than it ever can be done by
hand-labour. The expedition with which the grain is prepared is like-
wise of great importance. When thrashed by the flail corn usually lies
several days, not to say weeks, on a damp floor before it be cleaned,
exposed to vermin and pilfering; whereas by a good mill, a large quan-
tity may be thrashed, completely dressed, and secured in the granary
in a few hours, and under the owner's eye. Much corn too may
preserved in an unfavourable harvest, when speedily thrashed, which
would certainly be spoiled in the field or in the stack. A threshing-
mill of great power is an expensive article; but when worked by water
it saves at least 5 shillings on every acre of corn, even on farms of a
smalı size : but much more on large farms. If we take into account all
its other advantages, especially the additional grain obtained from the
straw, its value will not be over-rated when it is taken at 10 shillings
per acre.
be

T
T
It is remarkable that in Scotland, as husbandry has been studied and
improved, waggons have constantly been laid aside, and 2 horse carts
have been introduced; thereby producing a great saving in animal la-
bour. Fanners or winnowing machines were brought from Holland, a
century ago, and are now universally used. The skilful position, ar-
rangement, and construction of farm-buildings and fences, have also an
effect similar to that of machinery in abridging labour: the advantages
of a central position alone of the buildings have been estimated at from
one to two hundred pounds yearly on extensive farms.

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AGRICULTURE.
267
The intermixture of property and possession called run-rig, and run-
dale, commons, and tithes, have long been almost unknown in Scotland;
as also poor-rates, excepting in a few places where a voluntary assess-
ment has been formed, quite inconsiderable in its amount, and borne
equally by the land-holder and the land-occupier.
The agriculture of Scotland has received great encouragement from
the universal practice of holding lands on leases for a considerable term
of years, usually one, two, or more terms of 19 years each. A tenant
at will is there now almost unknown; and it cannot be denied, that no
confidence, however well founded, in the character of a landlord,
however excellent, either can or ought to stand in the place of a good
and valid lease. In these leases, one or two clauses secure the interest
of the landlord, without, in the smallest degree, restraining the just free-
dom of the tenant; no particular course of management being pre
scribed until towards the close of the term, when the interest of both
parties, so far united, begin to be different. The principal covenants
are, that the tenant shall not take two corn crops in succession; and
that, at the expiration of the term, he shall leave to his successor a certain
proportion of the farm for fallow, or fallow crops, and under cultivated
herbage. Straw is never allowed to be sold, excepting near large towns,
where manure can be procured in return. When the British farmer
shall be set free from the degrading right exercised by the landlord, of
destroying his fences and winter crops in pursuit of game, on fields,
which, for other purposes, the landlord cannot enter without permission,
the connection between the proprietor and the occupier of land in Scot-
land, will be of the most liberal and encouraging sort, and assume a
character as purely commercial and equable as the nature of the concern
can admit.


On the subject of the proper general size of farms, much has been
written for a number of years past; but both sides seem to have failed
in establishing their point, chiefly from taking too confined a view of
the matter. From the experience of Scotland, it has been found, that
when new land is to be brought into culture, or old, but mismanaged
land, is to be recovered, large farms alone have been successful. It is
only on such farms, secured by a long certain lease, that a man of the
necessary capital will bestow his money and his care. For the first
three or four or more years, he expects no profit;, but he is able to do
without it. By the remainder of his lease, however, he is amply indem-
nified; and on its expiration, the landlord is at no loss to find other per-
sons, of small capital, ready to take a portion of the improved land; by
which means, his rent-roll is increased beyond what any great cultivator
would give him for the whole. After a certain progress has been made
in the spread of knowledge and capital, the enlargement of farms seems
to stand still; and at a certain stage beyond that point, they are usually
seen to diminish.
✓

As far as the public are concerned, it does not appear that their in-
terests can be affected by the size of farms, provided land be let for
what it will bring in a fair open market. It is the interest of the land-
lord to draw the utmost possible revenue from his property, taking care
always to deal with a substantial tenant; and to encourage a free com-
petition on the part of farmers, is the best method to attain his purpose.
Agam, it is the interest of the tenant, in order to pay his rent, to raise
the greatest possible quantity of the most requisite products. And

268
AGRICULTURE.
lastly, it is the interest of the public at large, that the market be fully
supplied with those products, not for a few months after harvest only,
but regularly throughout the year.

鳌
​The principal objections to large farms are, that they depopulate a
country; which is certainly true, when applied to store-farms, in hilly
districts,, where employment is found for a few people only. But it is
as certainly false, when applied to tillage farms; on which it has been
ascertained, by actual enumeration, that many more hands have been
employed since farms were enlarged. Another objection is, that great
farmers frequently keep back their corn from market, until they obtain
a monopoly price, especially in seasons of scarcity. This notion is now,
however, generally exploded. On the other hand, it is evident, that
´some recent and most valuable mechanical inventions would never have
come into general use, had there been no farms of more than 100 or
150 acres ;-that no great improvement could have taken place in our live-
stock ;-that there could have been no system of arrangement, by which
every different quality of soil is made to produce those crops, and to
feed those peculiar animals for which it is best calculated ;-that it would
have been next to impossible to combine tillage and pasturage on the same
farm, which so powerfully sustain and augment the fertility of the soil;-
that the surplus produce, for the supply of towns, would have been incon-
siderable at all times; and, from the general exigencies of the small ten-
ants, brought to market in too great abundance in the early part of the
season, instead of apportioning it over the whole year;-that, in bad
years there would have been no surplus at all;—and that, in short, as
no person of capital and enterprise would ever have entered into the pro-
fession of a practical farmer, our extensive moors, heaths, and mosses,
and, indeed, all inferior or exhausted soils, must either have remained in
their natural state, or been partially and most unprofitably cultivated,
under the management of persons employed by great proprietors, but
who felt no anxious interest in the success of their operations.
In this great manufacturing and commercial country, it is not the
object that every man should labour the soil, but that the largest surplus,
after the demands of the farmer are satisfied, should be furnished for
the other classes of society, occupied in different ways. Of this, the best
standard is the amount of rent. It is idle to suppose, that a great far-
mer can, by any savings in family expences, afford a higher rent than
a number of small farmers on the same land. The personal labour of
small tenants, the moderate accommodations with which they are con-
tented, their careful, frugal manner of living, and their close attention
to those small profits, which never enter the pocket of the great cultivator,
warrant the conclusion, that if they cannot pay so high a rent as he does,
it is because they cannot bring to market so large a surplus. Wherever
the case is otherwise, the interest of the landlord, which is precisely the
same with that of the public, will always prevent him from laying into
one the separate possessions of a number of small occupiers. It is, how-
ever, indisputable, that the frequent use of this right has materially pro-
moted the agricultural improvement of Scotland.
Explanation of Figures relative to Agriculture.
Plate I. fig. 1. A sowing machine, of a very simple construction,
pushed forward like a wheel-barrow; in which A is the box containing
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ARCHITECTURE.
269
the seed, which drops through holes in the cylinder B, made to turn
round by a strap G, connected with the axle D of the wheel C. The
seed is made to fall regularly by the inclined plate F, and it is covered
by the dragging chains E.
:.

Fig. 2. Represents a plough of an improved construction.
Fig. 3. Is a perpendicular section, or end-view, of a threshing mill,
in which K is the axle of the principal wheel, moved externally by wa-
ter, horses, or other convenient power. By another layer and pinions,
the arms C and D are driven rapidly round within a circular box or
frame, to beat the grain and straw, drawn in by the motion of the feeders
A and B. The straw is carried off by the rakes E and F.; and the grain
drops through holes in the circular bottoms HI and IG.
Plate II. fig. 1. Is a section of a corn-mill driven by water, in which
AB is the edge of the water-wheel, with its float-boards. C is the axle,
of which one end plays in the outer wall at D, and the other, entering
the mill-house, is supported on a wall at E. On this axle stands a per-
pendicular wheel F, furnished with cogs all round, which work in the
upright staves or rounds of the trundle G. This trundle is supported
on a strong beam, called the brayer, one end of which rests in a mor-
tice at L, and the other at M hangs by an iron rod N, passing up
through the floor at I, and secured by a screw-nut at O, by turning
which, the brayer, and consequently the trundle and the upper mill-
stone, may be raised or lowered at pleasure. The corn is put into the
hopper P. from which it falls gradually into the shoe Q, from the end
of which it drops into an opening in the centre of the upper mill-stone,
to be ground down between it and the under stone, by the rapid motion
of the upper stone, acted on by the revolution of the spindle or axle of
the trundle G. The mill-stones are both inclosed in the box K.
#
CHAP. IV.
ARCHITECTURE.
THE term architecture is originally derived from the Greek language,
in which it signifies the principal handicraft, or mechanical operation,
an expression very applicable to the construction of habitations for civi-
lized men, without which, few of the other practical arts could be desir-
able or, indeed, of any value whatever. In the genial climates of the in-
terior of Asia, where human beings first appeared, defence from the in-
clemency of the weather was not an object of research. Shelter from
the intense rays of the sun, and from the torrents of rain peculiar to
those climates; protection from the wild beasts of the field; the neces
sity of privacy, and complete separation from their fellow creatures:-
these and other motives, which might easily be specified, would, never-
theless, render architecture, however rude and simple, one of the earliest
3
i
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ARCHITECTURE.
arts of life. To attempt to trace architecture back to its origin, would,
therefore, be an idle enterprise. From the Hebrew scriptures we learn,
that it was arrived at considerable perfection even under the second ge-
neration of mankind; for there we learn, that Cain, after the murder
of his brother, withdrew from the habitation of his parents, and built a
city in a remote quarter of the world.
The progress of architecture from rudeness to refinement is thus
related by Vitruvius, whose celebrated treatise on architecture appeared
in Italy in the reign of Augustus Cæsar, about the beginning of the
Christian era. His notions were formed on tradition and conjecture:
for the writings of Moses, which contain the most ancient account of the
origin of the human race, and of human society, were either unknown,
or generally disregarded in his time in Europe.

In the first times," says Vitruvius, "men lived in woods and
caves; but at last, borrowing hints from the birds, which build their
nests with equal ingenuity and industry, they began to form huts
for themselves. These huts were, probably, at first conical, because
that figure is of the most obvious construction, composed of trees or
branches fixed in a circle on the ground, and joined together in a point
at the top; the whole covered with reeds, leaves, and clay. Finding,
however, in the course of time, this conical figure inconvenient, on ac-
count of the slope of its sides, the form of the hut was changed to that
of a cube, or of a parallelopiped, Marking out the space to be occupied
by the intended structure, they fixed in the ground upright trunks of
trees, to form the sides, filling the intervals with branches closely inter-
woven, and covering the whole with clay. The sides being thus com-
pleted, four long beams were placed on the upright posts, which, being
well joined at the angles, kept the sides firm, and likewise served to
support the covering roof of the building, composed of other beams, on
which were laid beds of reeds, leaves, and clay. When the art of con-
structing habitations was thus far advanced, men bethought themselves
of methods of rendering their dwellings, not only commodious for pre-
sent use, but elegant and durable. They stripped the bark and other
inequalities from the trunks and branches employed in the walls, raised
them above the damp ground, by placing them on flat stones, and co-
vered each post with a flat stone, to throw off the rain. The spaces be-
tween the ends of the joists were closed with clay, and the ends of the
joists themselves were covered with thin boards, cut in the form of what
are called triglyphs. The position of the roofs was also altered: being
flat, they were ill calculated for throwing off the rain; they were, there-
fore, raised up in the middle, so as, with the horizontal beams connect-
ing the uprights of the walls, to form a triangular pediment or gable.
From these simple elements, architecture took its beginning; for when
wood was found inconvenient for constructing durable dwellings, and men
set themselves to erect more solid and extensive buildings, of clay dried
in the sun, or of stone; they still imitated the forms of those parts which
necessity had originally introduced. The upright posts, with the flat
stones under and above them, were converted into columns with their
bases and capitals; the beams, rafters, and layers of materials compos-
ing the roof, were gradually improved into architraves, friezes, tri-
glyphs, cornices, and the other ornamental parts of modern architecture."
So far Vitruvius; and as far as the improved architecture of the
Greeks and Romans is concerned, his theory is perfectly applicable.




ARCHITECTURE.
271,
Architecture is arranged in different orders, according to the nations
by whom, or the country in which, it was originally employed; such
as the Greek, the Roman, the Saxon, the Norman, the Saracenic or Ara-
bian, the Gothic, &c. The Greek architecture is divided into the
Doric, the Ionian, and the Corinthian, so named from the inventors, or
from those parts of Greece, or of the Grecian colonies in Asia Minor,
where each kind first appeared. Roman, or Italian architecture was
divided into the Tuscan, and the Composite, the first being employed,
as it is said, by the ancient inhabitants of Tuscany, and the last being a
later improvement adopted by the Romans, compounded of the two
Greek orders, the Ionic and the Corinthian.

An order in architecture consists of two principal parts, the column
and the entablature, or parts supported by the column. Of these two
principal parts, each consists of three subdivisions: those of the column
are the base on which it rests, the shaft, or tall tapering portion, and
the capital, or ornamental part crowning the shaft: those of the entabla-
ture are first, the architrave, then the frieze, and above all, the cornice.
Each of these smaller parts is again subdivided and distributed in various
ways, according to the orders to which they belong, as existing in an-
tique monuments, but more frequently according to the taste and fancy
of the authors who have written on the subject of architecture.
The principal character of the various kinds of architecture depending
on the column and its requisite accompaniments, the whole is commonly
and almost universally divided into five species or orders, viz. the Tus-
can, the Doric, the Ionic, the Corinthian, and the Composite. This distri-
bution and arrangement would seem to have been founded on the pro◄
gressive proportional strength and ornament of the orders: they are,
however, well calculated to mislead the student and the architect, in
tracing the origin and gradual advancement of each order. Without at-
tempting to search for the commencement of either of the orders, it is
sufficient for us to know, that the Greeks employed only the Doric, the
Ionic, and the Corinthian; and that the Tuscan and the Composite were
used in Italy only; the one more rude, and the other more ornamented
than the Greek orders, which occupied a middle rank. To attain,
therefore, a proper knowledge of the principles of architecture, the stu-
dent ought to confine himself to the three Greek orders; not only because
in them these principles are the most fully displayed, but because of all
the monuments of antiquity which have subsisted to modern times, few,
or perhaps none, can be pointed out in which the Roman or Italic mode
of construction is certainly to be traced.
In architecture various terms are employed in a peculiar sense, of
which the following are the chief:-Column is a Latin word signifying
in general a pillar, or supporter of some superincumbent load; but it is
now confined to a round pillar, smaller above than below, and thereby
closely imitating the trunk of a tree, from which it was originally drawn.
When the pillar is not round and tapering, but square, and of equal di-
mensions above and below, it is called a pilaster.
The column consists of three principal divisions: 1st, the base, from
the Latin term basis, the foundation on which any thing rests: 2d, the
shaft, or circular tapering portion: and 3d, the capital, from the Latin
term for the head, or the principal member.
The base is subdivided into different small parts, according to the or-
der to which the column belongs; but in all the lowermost part is the
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ARCHITECTURE.
:
plinth, from the Greek term for a brick, because the ancient bricks were
in general about square, and comparatively thin, resembling our paving
bricks or tiles. Above the plinth lay the torus, a round moulding re-
sembling a rope, so called in Greek, and imitating the band tied round
the bottom of the original tree, as the plinth did the flat brick or stone
on which it stood, to keep it from the ground. Between these two
members was sometimes introduced a hollow channel, called scotia, from
the Greek word for darkness, because little light could enter it.
The column was generally quite plain and smooth in its whole length;
but in buildings where ornament was particularly admitted, the shaft
was cut into a succession of small perpendicular channels, resembling
the inside of a pipe or flute cut lengthwise into two parts: hence the
shaft is said to be fluted. In some instances one-third part of the flut-
ings from the bottom was as it were filled up with the half of a round
rod lying in the hollow. It is singular, that although the flutings may
have been originally intended as an imitation of the natural hollows of
the bark of a tree, and might therefore be expected in the earliest pro-
ductions of architecture, it is only in the more improved works that
Auted columns are to be found.
The capital is variously subdivided, and ornamented in the different
orders, simple in the Doric, more ornamented in the Ionic, and highly
enriched in the Corinthian. In all however a narrow moulding runs
round the shaft, near its upper end, called the astragal, because it seem-
ed to occupy the position of the upper bone of the neck. Because the
word astragal also means in the Greek the heel, it is in some treatises of
architecture most ridiculously expressed by that name. The uppermost
member of the capital is the abacus, so called as being broad and thin,
like the board or tablet employed by the ancients in arithmetical cal-
culations.
-
The volute is an ornament introduced in the Ionic order, being, as its
Latin name implies, a spiral scroll imitating the ends of some flexible
substance loosely rolled up. The capital of the Corinthian order is en-
circled by rows of leaves of different sorts.
The parts which rest upon, and are supported by the column are
comprehended under the general name of the entablature, because agree-
ably to the meaning of the term tabula in Latin, they consist of boards,
planks, or stone slabs of different forms and magnitudes. The entabla-
ture is a compound of three principal parts, first the architrave, next the
frieze, and uppermost the cornice. The architrave is so called by a
name, partly Greek, and partly Latin, as being the principal beam which,
resting on the capitals of the columns, supports the remaining parts of
the entablature. In some cases it is plain, in others it is broken into
two or three pieces, like so many separate beams lying on each other.
The frieze consists of one piece, but commonly enriched with sculp-
ture of different sorts. In the Doric order this ornament consists of two
whole channels, and two half channels, forming one if joined together,
and therefore called by a Greek name triglyphs, or three hollows. The
square spaces between the successive triglyphs are called metopes, a term
expressing the hollow open spaces between the beams, the ends of
which are represented by the triglyphs. In these metopes are some-
times represented the head of some divinity, the scull of some animal
used in sacrifice, or other emblem of the purpose to which was destined
the building on which the ornaments are introduced.
1
ARCHITECTURE.
275
The cornice, from the French cornicke, and the Latin corona, is so
called because, being the uppermost part of the entablature, it crowns the
whole architectural distribution of the column; and it is divided and
ornamented in different ways, according to the order employed.
1. The first Grecian order in point of antiquity is the Doric, so nam-
ed from the Dores, a small tribe in Greece, or as some say from Dorus,
an Achaian chief, who first employed that order in erecting a temple to
Juno at Argos. The height of the Doric column, including the capital,
is 74 diameters of the lower end of the shaft, or 15 modules. In all the
most perfect specimens of this order now remaining, the column springs
immediately from the foundation, having no base properly so called, but
only a small swelling round the bottom, resembling what we see at the
root of a tree, and sufficient to show that we see the whole of the shaft.
The base, we learn from Vitruvius, first appeared in the Ionic column.
The Doric column being short in proportion to its diameter, and conse-
quently strong, the entablature placed upon it is of course more massive
than that of the other orders, being in height one-fourth part of the total
height of the column.
2. The Ionic order derives its name from the Iones, a Greek people
on the east coast of the Archipelago, whose capital was Ephesus, cele-
brated on many accounts, but particularly for the magnificent temple
of Diana. This admirable structure was in length 425 feet, and in
breadth 220 feet: it was surrounded on all sides by a double range of
marble columns, 70 feet in height, and consequently 7 feet 9 inches in
diameter at the bottom.

•

*
The Ionic column is taller than the Doric, containing 9 diameters, or
18 modules; and although simple, is nevertheless graceful and majestic.
If the Doric were meant to represent the manly robust figure of Hercules,
the Ionic might properly be the emblem of the dignified simplicity, and
elegance of Diana. In this order, as was already observed, the base
supporting the column was first introduced. An ornament peculiar to
the Ionic column, is the volute, or spiral scroll already mentioned, which
is described by a succession of portions of circles, drawn from different
central points. The height of the whole entablature is ths of that of
the column, being the medium between that of the Doric, which is,
and that of the Corinthian which is The height of the base is one
module or half the diameter of the shaft.
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3. The Corinthian order took its rise in the flourishing days of Corinth,
celebrated city commanding the communication of the peninsula of
Peloponesus, with the continent of Greece. The beautiful foliage of the
capital of this order is traced back to the following incident. A young
lady of Corinth dying, her nurse carried her play-things in a basket,
the day after her funeral, and placed it on the grave. The basket
covered with a flat tile, was placed accidentally on the stem of the plant
acanthus, which sending out leaves soon inclosed the basket, having
their ends turned downwards when they reached up to the tile. This
object struck the fancy of a celebrated sculptor of those days Callimachus,
who immediately introduced a figure of it on the top of an elegant co-
lumn of his invention. Thus the capital of the Corinthian column al-
ways resembles a deep narrow basket covered with a tile, and completely
surrounded by foliage. Such is the account given by Vitruvius; but
later writers on architecture have imagined they could discover this or-
namented capital, in the description given of the temple erected by
NN
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274
ARCHITECTURE.
***
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Solomon in Jerusalem; with this difference that there the foliage repre-
sented branches of the palm, and not the leaves of the acanthus. It is
however to be observed, that the foliage of the Corinthian capital is fre-
quently an imitation of the leaves, not of the acanthus, but of the olive,
and of other plants, according to the taste of the architect. The Corin-
thian column is in height 10 diameters or 20 modules, of which the base
is 1 module, and the capital 2 modules, consequently the shaft mea
sures 16 modules. The entablature is of the column.
1333
1. The first Italic order is called the Tuscan, as having been employ-
ed by that ancient people, once very powerful in Italy. It is however
remarkable, that no vestiges now exist of any building in which the
Tuscan column was employed to support an entablature, or any other
weight. Vitruvius, it is true, gives instructions for erecting temples ac-
cording to this order; but it does not appear that such edifices were ac-
tually erected. The only examples of the use of the Tuscan column
that have come down to our times, are the admirable monuments, still
subsisting in their original perfection, the columns of Trajan and Anto-
ninus in Rome, and the column of Theodosius in Constantinople. The
column erected to the honour of Trajan, (next to Julius Cæsar, perhaps
the most valuable of the Roman emperors) who flourished a century
after Christ, is in all 118 feet high. The shaft of the column is in
length 14 modules, or 7 diameters, each 11 feet 2 inches. The pedes-
tal supporting the column is a cube of 3 modules; the base is 1 module,
and the capital module. On the capital is another pedestal on which
stood a colossal statue of Trajan; but this was removed, and one of St.
Peter how occupies the same place. The other column, commonly said to
have been erected to Antoninus, is of the same kind, but a little smaller:
It now supports the statue of St. Paul. The magnificent but unhappily
situated column, or the monument, erected in London, to commemorate
the dreadful conflagration, which in 1666, laid waste the greater part of
'that city, although copied from those in Rome, and of considerably larger
dimensions, is not properly Tuscan but a fluted Doric.
2. The other Italic order is called the Composite, because it seems to
be a combination of the 'Tonic and the Corinthian orders, to which last
It bears the greatest resemblance; imitating the former only in the
adoption of the complete volute in the capital, in addition to the 'Corin-
thian foliage. A specimen of the Composite order, richly ornamented,
is to be seen in the triumphal arch, erected at Rome to the honour of
Titus, in consequence of his signal victory over the Jewish nation, in the
year' 70; under the arch of which are represented in sculpture, the gol
den candlestick of seven branches, and other precious articles, carried
away from the last temple of Jerusalem.
}
}
Besides columns properly so called, which are always circular, an-
other kind of pillars called pilasters are frequently employed, especially
where a great weight is to be supported. The plan of a pilaster is usu-
ally a square; but those, the plan of which is a parallelogram, are also in-
troduced. The chief use of pilasters is to support arches. Thus the
piers of a bridge are in fact short pilasters: the arches séparating the
have from the side-ailes of S. Paul's church in London, of St. Peters in
Rome, are supported on pilasters. In some buildings, it is true, we find
ranges of arches supported on columns of even the delicate Corinthian
order; but as columns are of a tapering form, the upper diameter ÞE-
ing less than the lower; and as this diminution is increased in the eye”



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ARCHITECTURE.
275
of the spectator, by the distance of the upper part; columns have a slen-
der, and even a feeble appearance, and are consequently ill adapted for
supporting an arch. On the other hand, pilasters being of equal di-
mensions all over their height, and very short in proportion to their
diameter, possess a solidity and strength capable of bearing arches of the
greatest weight and magnitude.
.
By pilasters we also mean an ornament applied to walls, internal and
external, resembling in parts and form a column, but flattened instead
of round. Pilasters of this sort have their base shaft and capital, and
are plain or fluted, according to the architectural order to which they
belong. It is a matter still unsettled whether such a pilaster ought to
diminish in breadth like a column, or to retain the same breadth above
and below like a solid pier. Pilasters usually project one-fourth part of
their breadth from the wall to which they are applied.
Both columns and pilasters are frequently raised from the ground,
and placed on pedestals; a construction not without its propriety in cer-
tain cases; as in our churches where the galleries rest upon pilasters,
and the front of the gallery coincides with the pedestal of the column
which rises to the roof. Pedestals are by no means essential to columns
or pilasters; but when employed they must be formed and ornamented
conformably to the order of the columns they support.
•
Columns are placed at different distances according to their destina-
tion; and the spaces between them are termed intercolumniations. This
separation in the Greek orders varies from one diameter and a half of the
lower end of the column, to four diameters: but if the Tuscan column
were employed, the architrave being supposed to consist of beams of
timber, the intercolumniation may be much wider than if it consisted of
blocks of stone. That interval, however, between columns, which has
received the sanction of the best monuments of antiquity, and of the
most judicious architects, is equal to two diameters and a quarter of
the column. Hence it is called Eustyle, from two Greek terms expres-
sing the proper arrangement of columns. The latter term stylos, a co-
lumn enters into the composition of several other architectural terms, as
Fycnostyle, to express columns placed very close together; prostyle, a
number of columns placed as in a portico before the entrance-front of a
building, of which we have examples in London in the churches of St.
Martin in the Fields, of St. George Hanover Square, of St. George
Bloomsbury, in imitation of ancient edifices in Rome, &c. When ran-
ges of columns are carried quite round the outside of a building, they
form a peristyle.
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Arches may perhaps be considered as less magnificent than ranges of
columns; but they are very solid, and liable to few accidents. The
importance of arches, in affording a commodious passage over a river,
needs no illustration. It has long been the practice to construct bridges
of arches increasing in width, and consequently in height, from each
end to the middle, so that the road formed the segment of a large circle.
The arches have also been generally semicircles, or segments of circles
nearly approaching to semicircles. This practice was first laid aside in
France, where many noble bridges are now to be seen, consisting, like
the ancient Greek and Roman, of arches, all of the same span or width,
and the same height; so that the road is carried on a level all the way
along the bridge. In order to keep the bridge low, the arches vary
greatly from a semicircle, being segments of circles of large diameter.
+
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276
ARCHITECTURE.
1
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Nay, in some instances in France, the arches are portions of ellipses, and
not circular, by which measure the crown of the arch is kept very low
On this most improved plan a bridge is now constructing in London,
over the Thames, between Blackfriar's and Westminster bridges, which
for excellence of materials and structure, for magnificent simplicity and
extent, will be perhaps without a parallel in Europe. It consists indeed
of only nine equal elliptic arches; but each is of 120 feet span: the ex-
tent of each pier between the arches is 20 feet, and the whole length of
the bridge 1280 feet, very nearly a quarter of a mile, on the same level
line from the one end to the other. To enable the reader to form some
judgment of the properties of this new work, (called the Strand bridge,
because it leads into that street, on the west of Somerset Place,) the
following account of some other remarkable bridges is given. Of the
adjoining communications over the Thames, London bridge consists of
19 arches, and is in length 915 feet; Blackfriar's bridge consists of 9
arches, and is 995 feet long; and Westminster bridge consisting of 15
arches is in length 1223 feet. The celebrated bridge over the Loire at
Tours in France is horizontal, consisting of 15 elliptic arches, and in
length 1335 feet. The bridge over the Moldaw at Prague, the capital
of Bohemia, is in length 1700 feet. But these are all far surpassed in
length by the antique bridge over the rapid Rhone, at St. Esprit in the
south of France, which, constructed on a multitude of small arches, ex-
tends to the length of 3000 feet: possessing this singularity, that, in-
stead of being straight, it consists of two lines of direction, meeting in
the river at a very obtuse angle, pointed up against the stream, as if
the better to resist its violence.

In various edifices ancient and modern, we find columns and arches
placed in ranges one above another. In such works care must be taken
that the more massive should support the more slender; placing first
the Doric order, next the Ionic, and above all the Corinthian or Com-
posite. In this arrangement the lower diameter of the superior column
is usually made equal to the upper diameter of the inferior column;
giving the succession of columns the air of one tall tapering tree, cut
into so many separate portions.
The most remarkable edifices of antiquity, which have subsisted with
tolerable entireness to our days, are temples of various sorts.
The
structure of these temples is extremely simple, the building being a
parallelogram seldom of great dimensions. Some have a portico of co-
lumns at the entrance, and the external walls plain or adorned with
pilasters. Other temples however are surrounded on all parts by a
single, and even by a double range of columns, supporting the architrave
frieze and cornice, together with the roof; so that the temple itself is in
a manner concealed from the view, and receives no light but from the
entrance. Such a construction is evidently very ill adapted to the pur-
poses of a Christian, and especially of a Protestant place of worship. It
has nevertheless been imitated in many magnificent structures, with
some alterations, and the addition of projections on each of the long sides,
for the purpose of resembling the Cross the emblem of the Christian
faith. According to the system of divine service which for many cen-
turies has prevailed in the Roman Catholic worship, the sacred offices
may be conducted, without mutual interference, in sundry parts of a
church at the same time. In the Protestant system, however, whether
Lutheran, Calvinistic, or Anglican in which nothing is done as it were
1
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ARCHITECTURE.
277
in secret, and in which every member of the congregation is to hear,
and participate in every part of the service, sacred edifices must, to be
useful, be limited in magnitude and form. To be satisfied of the truth
of this observation, it will be quite sufficient to enter St. Paul's church
in London, at a time when service is performing. A comparatively
small portion of that grand structure is set apart for the congregation,
while the great body of the building presents the appearance of a vast
useles void, neither applied, nor indeed applicable to any purpose of the
Protestant worship. The same observation belongs to our Gothic
cathedrals; but these were constructed with a very different view.
The columns of the portico, and the pilasters of the body of St. Peter's
at Rome reach at once from the ground to the attic; but in St. Paul's
of London, the whole of the edifice is divided into two ranges of co-
lumns and pilasters; an arrangement which, by breaking the whole in-
to a repetition of small parts and members, counteracts the effect which
would be produced by the great dimensions of the edifice, were it adorn-
ed with columns, occupying the whole height of the building. On the
other hand, the intervals between the grand columns of the portico of
St. Peter's having been built up into two stories of arcades and balconies,
to accommodate the Pope in certain ceremonies, the effect of the portico
is destroyed; and instead of one open range of lofty pillars, the eye is
offended to see them half sunk as it were into a wall, the use of which
is by no means at first sight apparent. From this material defect, the
front of St. Paul's, although broken into two ranges of pillars, is fortu-
nately free.
•
Columns grouped, or placed two and two together, have always a
bad effect; for they suggest to the observer the idea that single columns
had been at first employed, and that, being found to be too weak for
their load, another set of columns had been placed beside them, to take
off a part of the burthen. Grouped or double columns are wholly a
modern invention; nothing of the kind being found in any antique work:
and although they were employed by the first-rate architects who con-
structed the celebrated colonnade of the palace of the Louvre in Paris,
the front portico of St. Paul's, the entrance into Somerset Place in Lon-
don, &c. the grouping of columns is nevertheless a departure from the
genuine rules of art.
Instead of different ranges of columns it is usual to throw the ground-
floor of an edifice into the form of a basement, on which rise the columns
or pilasters to ornament the front. This basement ought never to be
less in height than half the length of the order it supports. Basements
are generally rusticated; that is, the stones are cut and placed so as to
resemble the rude blocks as they may be supposed to rise from the
quarry. In the application of this rustication, however, the judgment
and taste of the architect will be displayed. In London we have ex-
amples of the judicious employment of rusticated walls, and of the very
The huge ponderous masses, apparently in all their native
rudeness, composing the exterior of a Newgate prison, admirably indi-
cate and characterize the nature of the edifice. The less rude, it is true,
but still rusticated walls of a Carleton-house, are on the contrary, equally
incongruous with the delicate, and richly ornamented portico, and with
the purposes to which that structure is appropriated.
reverse.
When a building is divided into different floors or stories, it seems
proper that each story should have its separate range of columns or pil-
#
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278
ARCHITECTURE.

asters, which then appear each to support, in the entablature, the pro-
jecting timbers of the superincumbent floors, When, on the contrary,
two and even three tiers of windows are all included in the height of
one range of columns or pilasters, the want of use, and even of connec-
tion, in columns of such a length, must strike every observer. Of this
last defect we have a striking example in the portico of the Admiralty
Office in London. Four great disproportioned columns comprehend
three ranges of windows: but thanks to the classic genius of Robert
Adam of the Adelphi, by his interposition of a skreen, equally simple
and elegant, so much of the columns is concealed from the eye as to
bring them within limits, in some degree suited to the structure to
which, without belonging, they are attached.


When a range of columns, surmounted with their proper entablature,
supports the end of a roof, a triangular space is formed called a pediment,
the two inclined sides being finished agreeably to the cornice below
them the inclosed triangular space or tympanum is often filled with
historic or emblematic sculpture. Pediments on a small scale, triangular
or as arches of circles, are frequently placed alternately over windows
in modern buildings; and instances of the same intermixture are not
wanting in vestiges of ancient structures. The most proper proportion
of a pediment, whether triangular or circular, is to make its perpendi-
cular height from one-fifth to one-fourth part of the base.
Gothic Architecture.
¿
The preceding observations belong to the Grecian and Roman sys-
tems of architecture: but another system, conducted on very different
ideas, and of which many specimens, of admirable contrivance and exe-
cution, still adorn the principal states of Europe, namely the Gothic,
remains to be noticed. The term is often improperly employed to ex-
press every mode of construction not reducible to the ancient Grecian :
in this way, works erected by the Saxons and the Normans, in the
northern and middle parts, and by the Saracens or Moors from Africa,
in the southern parts of Europe, are often confounded under the general
name of Gothic, with those to which that name properly belongs. This
last species of building is supposed to have first appeared in England,
after the conquest, in the reign of Henry the 2d, who died in 1189; in-
troduced most probably from Normandy, and other parts of France,
where splendid monuments of Gothic architecture, are very common.
CANC
On the origin of the Gothic mode of building, ingenious men have
varied much in opinion; and even on the origin of the name.
The
Goths were in early times the inhabitants of Sweden: but in the decay
of the Roman empire, they, with other northern tribes, invaded and
over-ran all the southern parts of Europe, even to the strait of Gibraltar.
Ignorant of every art but that of war, the science and skill introduced
into these parts by the Romans, were overwhelmed, and architecture
gradually assumed forms unknown to the Romans and the 'Greeks.
Hence buildings constructed on principles different from those of anti-
quity came to be distinguished as Gothic; not because the Goths alone
were their founders, but because the Goths and their neighbours the
Vandals, having established a regular succession of kings in Spain, their
name became more famous than that of any other northern rate,





ARCHITECTURE.
279
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The Saxon, Norman, and Gothic styles of architecture, though nearly
related in sundry particulars, have still each its peculiar character. The
Saxon and Norman proper agree in this, that the form of the building
is in both the same; the pillars are round, square, or polygonal, and
very short, massive, and strong, but the arches and heads of the doors
and windows are semicircular. If, in these particulars, any difference
be found, it consists in the superior massiveness and large dimensions of
the Norman architecture. The Saxon churches, of which sundry examples,
or parts at least, have remained to our times, were often well constructed,
and even elegant, but generally of a moderate size. Those erected by
the Normans, on the other hand, were usually large and magnificent,
carried up to a great height with two, and even three ranges of pillars,
one above the other, of various dimensions, but connected by circular
arches. In the centre was a lofty tower, with two others at the west
end, where was the principal entrance. In the course of time, however,
the Normans introduced pillars of a much more agreeable form, tall and
slender. In England, the Saxon and Norman styles are generally found
mixed in the same building; the latter, introduced in the twelfth cen-
tury, being ingrafted on the former, which had been in use for some
centuries preceding.
2


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The principal mark's by which the true Gothic architecture is distin-
guished, are its projecting buttresses around the exterior of the build-
ing, its pinnacles and spires, its large branching windows, its niches, its
canopies, and sculptured angels, saints, and kings, the fretted roof, the
clustering pillar, but above all, the arch always more or less acutely
pointed. As plainness and solidity constitute the leading features of
the Saxon and Norman buildings, so the Gothic architecture is distin
guished by the lightness of the work, the lofty boldness of its elevation,
the peculiar slenderness of its pillars, the profusion and delicate richness
of its ornaments, and, we must add, the astonishing excellence of the
màsonry.
In inquiries into the origin of the proper Gothic style of building, we
meet with no less genius and fancy than in similar inquiries concerning
the Greek orders, and a much greater variety of sentiment. Some
writers imagine the Gothic style was brought into Europe by the cru-
saders, on their return from the Holy Land, and other parts of the east;
and think that this style should be called Saracenic. Others would call
it Moresque, as having been introduced into Spain by the Moors. On
the other hand, the pointed arch, which characterises the Gothic, is by
some traced to the intersection of two semicircles, such as is frequently
seen in Saxon buildings; the one arch being described from the end of
the diameter, and passing through the centre of the other. Such an in-
tersection would form an angle of 60°, and lines from it to the other ex-
tremities of the arches, would, of course, form an equilateral triangle;
a form certainly not unfrequent in Gothic buildings. The scheme,
however, which has gained the most general assent is, that the Gothic
is derived from the ancient practice of religious ceremonies being per
formed in groves of lofty trees. The eye being accustomed to contem-
plate the arches formed by the branches of the trees that shaded their
altars, and sheltered their assemblies, it was natural, when covered
buildings succeeded to these groves as places of worship, that men should
endeavour to introduce some similitude between them and those places
in which they had been accustomed so long to perform their religious

"
CW
288
ARCHITECTURE.
1
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at which points the diminution begins, and extends to the capital. This
junction, however, of the cylinder and the cone, although the angle
formed by their outlines be almost imperceptible by the eye, appearing
an imperfection, it was proposed and practised by eminent architects,
to form the outline of the shaft by a curve running within the cylinder,
but without the cone, from the base to the capital, in such a way, that
the diameter of the shaft was, in every part, less than that at the base,
but greater than that at the capital. The observations made on this
point by Vitruvius, the great teacher of architectural mechanics, who
flourished about the beginning of the Christian era, having in late
times been misunderstood, it is no uncommon thing, in different parts
of the continent, (to say nothing of our own country) to meet with co-
lumns, the outline of which consists of a curve actually swelling out-
wards, so that at one-third of their height their diameter considerably
exceeds that at the base; a practice so offensive to the eye, as well
as to reason, as to create wonder how it could ever be adopted by men
who had ever seen, or even read of the monuments remaining of ancient
architecture.
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The different methods of giving to a column the proper diminution
and most elegant sweeping outline, are particularly described in com-
plete treatises on architecture. In this place we must content ourselves
with giving the following plain instructions, by which every practical
artisan may form his model and plan, with accuracy sufficient for ordinary
occasions.
Let AB, fig. 1. plate 3. of architecture be the lower diameter of the
shaft of the column to be drawn, and EF the upper diameter. : "On ˚C,
the centre of AB, describe the semicircle AGB, and erect the perpendi-
cular CGD, which will represent the axis of the column. Through E,
the extremity of the upper diameter, draw EH parallel to the axis DC,
cutting the semicircle AGB in the point H. Now divide the arc AH
into any number of equal parts, the more the better; as here, into 4, by
the points marked 1, 2, 3. In the same way divide the axis into the
same number of equal parts, as in the points marked a, b, c, through
each of which draw indefinite right lines, at right angles, to CD.
Through the points 1, 2, 3, of the arc AH, draw lines parallel to CD,
producing them respectively until they meet the transverse lines drawn
through a b c on the axis, in the points def, which will thus become
points in the surface of the column. To assist in drawing these parallel
perpendiculars, it will be convenient, through the points 1, 2, 3, in the
arc AH, to draw 3m, 2n, 10, to the axis parallel to the diameter AB;
and setting off a distance equal to 1o upon the transverse line passing
through a; another equal to 2n upon that passing through b; a third
equal to 3 m upon that passing through c; the points d, e, f, will be
obtained as before. Then setting on the transverses through a a dis-
tance equal to a d, through b'a distance equal to be, through c, a dis-
tance equal to cf, the opposite points def, on the other side of the
axis, are also obtained. If now nails or pegs be fixed in the several
points in the surface of the column thus ascertained, and along them, and
the two extreme points of the upper and lower diameters AE and BF,
a thin slip of timber, equally flexible in every part, be applied, it will
shew the contour or section of the exterior of the column. The curve
thus formed being carefully transferred, will mark the edge of the rule
to be used in diminishing the shaft. In this process, it is evident, that
•

ARCHITECTURE.
289
the more numerous the points of the surface ascertained, the more ac-
curately will the slip of timber assume the proper form, and the diminish-
ing scale be constructed. The two lines drawn from B to F shew the
difference between the surface of the shaft, drawn in this way, and a
right line joining the same points.
Mouldings. Although the shaft of a column do not admit of any orna-
ment on its body, yet at each end, in the base and the capital, various
ornamental parts are introduced, in the due distribution and proportion
of which consists their principal beauty. These are, in general, called
mouldings, because they are always of the same shape, as if they all pro-
ceeded from the same mould or form. Mouldings are by some writers
divided into Grecian and Roman, with a reference to the remains of the
architecture of those nations still in existence. The difference consists
in this, that the Romans generally employed circular arches in their or-
naments, while the Greeks often introduced parts of an ellipse, or of
some other section of a cone varying from the circle. The principal
parts of mouldings are these, 1st, The flat part under or above a mould-
ing is a fillet, as resembling a bandage or ruban tied round the column.
2d, When the moulding projects in the form of a quadrant, or a smaller
portion of a circle, it becomes an echinus or Roman ovolo, from its like-
ness to a portion of the shell of the sea-hedge-hog, or of a common egg.
3d, But if the moulding, reversing that figure, be a hollow of the same
shape, it is therefore called a cavetto. 4th, A small projecting semicir-
cular moulding is in general called a bead, as particularly belonging to
the astragal or neck: But 5th, if the moulding be much larger, with a
fillet above or below it, it then becomes a torus, as imitating a rope or
cable applied to the column. 6th, If the section be a concave semicir-
cle, or semiellipse, it becomes a scotia, because the interior is dark. 7th,
When the projection is not properly a part of a circle, but rather of an
ellipse, or of some other section of a cone, returning in quickly at the
upper part, it is called a Grecian ovolo; and the quick return in it is by
workmen called a quirk. 8th, A contour or section, partly concave and
partly convex, is a cymalium, because it imitates the wave of the sea.
9th, If the concave part be uppermost, it is a cyma recta; but if the con-
vex part be uppermost, it is a cyma reversa, or ogee.
•
Volute. It is impossible, within the narrow limits of this work, to go fully
into the method of drawing all the variety of mouldings, foliage, or other
ornaments of columns and their appendages; it must, therefore, be suffi-
cient at present to shew one way of drawing the ornament called a volute,
first introduced into the Ionic order, and afterwards adopted into the
Composite. This method is neither the most simple, nor that which best
accords with the purest remains of ancient art; it is, however, recom-
mended by some late writers on architecture, and on this account it is
now exhibited. Let the line AB (fig 1. of plate 4), be made equal to
the perpendicular altitude of the intended volute, and be divided into
7 equal parts. On a perpendicular line of the same length, set up from
the bottom three of these parts, which will determine the centre of the
volute. But to show distinctly the manner of determining the several
points from which the volute is described, the reader is referred to fig 2,
of the same plate. About C, with one half of a seventh part of the
given line AB, for radius, describe the circle DEFG, and draw the hori-
zontal and perpendicular diameters EG and DF, by joining the extre-
mities of which will be formed the square DEFG. From the middle
PP
:
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+


1
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ARCHITECTURE.
}
of the several sides of this square, if lines be drawn, another square 1.2
mn will be formed. From the centre C draw the diagonals C 1, € 2,
and divide each into 3 equal parts, as in 9 5, and 10 6. Divide C 10
into 2 equal parts in the point x, from which let fall a perpendicular
cutting EG in z, and mn, the lower side of the inner square in H.
Producing mn, make HI and HK each equal to the half of m n. Then
from z draw z K and z I, which will be parallel to the diagonals 1 2,
mn, and draw the lines 5 4, 98, 67, 10 11, parallel to the perpendi-
cular sides of the square; and if the horizontal line 11 12, be drawn,
the central points 1, 2, 3-12, will be determined. From o, the mid-
dle of 1 n, (fig 1), set up the remaining 4 parts of the line AB to L,
which will be the highest point of the volute or spiral, and from 1, as a
centre, with the radius 1 L describe the quadrant LM. Then moving
the compasses to the point 2 of the square, with the radius 2 M, describe
another quadrant MÑ. Again, from 3, with 3 N for radius, describe
NO. In the same way, from 4 draw O P, from 5 draw PQ, &c. con-
tinuing the operation until the volute be terminated by coinciding
with the original circle in the middle, which is called the eye of
the volute. In this way is the exterior line of the fillet of the volute
obtained. The interior line, however, does not run parallel to the for-
mer, but in such a way, that the breadth of the fillet gradually dimi-
nishes until it in a manner vanish at the centre: the inner line is there-

·
fore drawn in this way. Having fixed on the breadth of the fillet at
the beginning, as Ll, divide it into 12 equal parts, corresponding to
the several quadrants of the volute, (see fig. 3). From a set off 12 equal
r
parts of any size; make 12 y equal to L ; join y x, and draw the lines
a 11, b 10, c 9, &c. all parallel to y 12; then these cross lines gradually
diminishing will be the several breadths of the fillet, at the beginning
of each quadrant of the volute.
Drawing a column. In drawing or constructing a column of any parti-
cular order, the several dimensions and members are measured by a pro-
portional scale, founded on the diameter of the lower extremity of the
shaft, immediately above the projection at the base, where the shaft be-
comes rectilineal. This diameter is divided into two. equal parts, each
being the radius of the transverse section of the column, and is termed
a module. The whole diameter is subdivided into sixty equal parts or
minutes, of which, consequently, thirty are contained in a module.
These proportional quantities are easily converted into real, when the
lower diameter of the column is given in measure. Thus, if the lower
diameter of a Doric column be 5 feet, or 60 inches, the module must
be 24 feet, or 30 inches, and each minute will be 1 inch: and the Doric
column being in height 8 diameters, the height of the given column will
be 40 feet; hence, the entablature being one-fourth of the height of the
column, its height in this case will be 10 feet, and so on.
-
In the Tuscan order, (supposing it to be complete), the height of
the column is 7 times the lower diameter, or 14 modules; the entabla-
ture one-fourth of the column, and the pedestal one-fifth of the height
of all the parts. Hence, let the whole height of a Tuscan column, with
its pedestal and entablature, be fixed to 40 feet, the pedestal, being one-
fifth of the whole, will be 8 feet high: The remaining 32 feet, divided
by 5, will give nearly 6 feet 5 inches for the entablature, and 25 feet
7 inches for the column, of which the lower diameter being one-se-
venth, will be nearly 3 feet 8 inches. Had the order been Ionic, the
E


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ARCHITECTURE.
291.
whole height, 40 feet, divided as before by 5, (for in all the orders the
pedestal is always one-fifth of the entire height) would have given 8
feet for the pedestal, and the remaining 32 feet, divided by 6, would
have given 5 feet 4 inches for the entablature, leaving 25 feet 8 inches
for the column, of which the ninth part, or 2 feet 11 inches, is the
lower diameter. But in general, when the whole height of the column,
with its pedestal and entablature, is given, the several portions are thus
found in all the orders. For the Tuscan, divide the entire height by 5,
the quotient is the pedestal, and the remaining height divided by 5,
will give the entablature. The remainder, divided by 7, gives the
lower diameter of the column. Doric: divide the whole height by 5
for the pedestal; one-fifth of the remainder is the entablature; the rest
is the column, of which the eighth part is its diameter. Ionic: Deduct-
ing from the entire height one-fifth for the pedestal, one-sixth of the re-
maining height is the entablature, and one-ninth of the remainder is the
diameter of the column. Corinthian: After cutting off the pedestal as
before, the entablature is one-sixth of the remainder, as in the Ionic;
and one-tenth of the rest is the diameter of the column. For the Com-
posite order the same proportions are employed. By inspection of the
plates on architecture herewith given, the perpendicular height and ho-
rizontal projection of the members and their various parts will be suffi-
ciently understood. In laying down any order on paper, draw a per-
pendicular right line to represent the axis of the column. Near the bot-
tom draw another line horizontally at right angles, on which, from the
perpendicular, set off on each side, a distance equal to a module, or one
half of the diameter. On a separate line, equal to this diameter, form a
scale of 60 equal parts, or minutes, by which to measure all the dimen-
sions, reducing them to minutes from the number of feet and inches in
which they are usually given. The construction of such scales is, how-
ever, generally unnecessary, from the variety to be found on Gunter's
and other scales of wood, brass, &c. sold by the makers of mathematical
instruments. On the axis of the column produced below it, set off pro-
gressively downwards from the bottom of the column, the heights of
the several members composing the base and pedestal; and through each
of those points draw pencil lines at right angles to the axis. Again,
from the same bottom line of the column set up along the axis the se-
veral heights of the capital, architrave, frieze, and cornice, drawing, as
before, lines at right angles through each point thus ascertained. Then
from the axis set off on each horizontal line, the proper projection
of all the several parts in order; by which means the true elevation and
projection of each will be obtained. The extremities of these horizontal
lines are then connected by the fillet, the ovolo, the cyma recta, &c. ac-
cording to the kind of ornamental profile belonging to each particular
order of architecture. It was formerly observed, that no Tuscan en-
tablature, certainly antique, now exists: as, however, modern archi-
tects, following Palladio, Scamozzi, and others, have taken upon them
to complete the Tuscan order, of which the column alone is known,
a profile of Palladio's scheme is given in the plate.
Although the relative proportions of the various parts of the orders be
generally marked on the plates, it will still be of service here to give a
brief account of some of the principal parts of each.
Tuscan: In this order the height of the column is 7 diameters, or 14
modules; that of the whole entablature 34 modules, subdivided into 10
▼
1



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KIM
6
•292
ARCHITECTURE.
equal parts, of which 3 are for the architrave, 3 for the frieze, and
4 for the cornice. The height of the capital is. 1 module, the base, in-
cluding the lower cincture (peculiar to this order) of the shaft, is also
1 module; and the shaft, with its upper cincture and astragal, is 12 mo-
dules. When this order is employed within doors, the column may be
enlarged to 14, or even 15 modules; the other parts remaining as be-
fore. It is customary to diminish this column one-fourth; but no rea-
son can be given why the diminution should exceed one-sixth, or one-
eighth. Doric: The height of this column has greatly varied, at dif
ferent epochs, from 4 to eight diameters, which last proportion is usu-
ally employed by the moderns, or 16 modules, including base and capi-
tal; in which case, the entablature contains 4 modules. This space,
subdivided into 8 equal parts, allots 2 for the architrave, 3 for the frieze,
and 3 for the cornice; the base is 1 module in height; the capital some-
what higher or 32 minutes. Ionic: Height of the column 18 modules,
of the entablature 4, capital 21 minutes, and base 30: the shaft, either
plain or fluted, with 20 or 24 flutings: the fillet betweeen them never
broader than one-third, nor narrower than one-fourth of the flute. The
entablature being divided into 10 equal parts, 3 are for the architrave,
3 for the frieze, and 4 for the cornice. For the illustration of the Ionic
order, the reader is presented with a plate representing the frontispiece
and portico of an antique temple in Rome, universally esteemed by the
best judges as the most regular, correct, and elegant specimen of this
order now in existence. This is the temple of Manly Fortune, still in
such preservation, as to be converted into the church of St. Mary the
Egyptian, The edifice is a parallelogram, elevated above the ground,
and approached by a stair extending the whole length of the portico,
consisting of 4 fluted columns. Opposite to the middle intercolumnia-
tion is the door of the temple, which, in the plate, appears as if con-
nected with the columns; because, had the figure been shaded, so as to
show the retreat of the wall and door, the due proportions of the whole
frontispiece could not have been distinctly exhibited. Corinthian: This
order differs from the Ionic chiefly in the capital, which occupies 1
whole diameter, while the Ionic capital takes up only one-third of a
diameter. The moderns adopt the following proportions: the column
20 modules, the entablature 5, the base 1, the capital 1; the propor-
tions of the members of the entablature the same as in the Ionic.
When the entablature is enriched, the shaft of the column is fluted, the
flutings being filled up with a rod or cabling to one-third of their height,
which actually strengthens, while it does not diminish the beauty of
the column. The capital is enriched with olive leaves, in imitation
of most of the ancient vestiges now remaining; the acanthus, notwith-
standing the story of the origin of the Corinthian capital seeming to have
been but seldom introduced. Composite: Height of the column 20 mo-
dules, of the entablature 5, of the capital 11, the base as in the Ionic;
the shaft may also be fluted, as in the Ionic, with 20 or 24 flutings;
the entablature divided into 10 equal parts, of which 3 for the archi-
trave, 3 for the frieze, and 4 for the cornice. A specimen of the
Composite order, singularly rich and beautiful, exists in Rome, in the
triumphal arch erected to commemorate the awful and predicted destruc-
tion brought upon the city and temple of Jerusalem by the Romans, in
the year 70, under Titus, during the reign of his father Vespasian.
Under the arch are sculptured the golden candelabrum of seven branches,


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the table of shew-bread, and other spoils carried away from the temple
It is the ingenious, and not improbable fancy, of some eminent writers
on architecture, that the general idea of the Composite order, as it ap-
pears in the arch of Titus, was borrowed by some Roman artist in the
suite of that general from the structure of the temple of Jerusalem it-
self, after the conquest of the city, but before its utter overthrow. Jo-
sephus, it is true, says the columns of the temple were Corinthian ; but
the differences between that order and the Composite might not attract
his attention, nor would they have been generally deserving of notice.
At any rate, the triumphal and tropheal arch of Titus is the most ancient
monument in which the Composite order is discovered. This arch
possesses another peculiarity, that it is supposed to be the first structure
of the tropheal or triumphal kind erected by the Romans; an example
soon afterwards imitated by the abject adulation of the people, or rather
by the insulting vanity of their princes; until at last, such trophies being
lavished without discrimination, ceased to be marks of honourable dis-
tinction.
The feelings and duties of human beings in a social state of existence
naturally spring from that state. To a person brought up from infancy
in absolute solitude, such feelings would only produce misery, and such
duties would be a nonentity. Let, however, two persons be placed in
mutual communication, and that instant feelings of kindness or dislike,
of affection or hatred, will arise. Let both be hungry, and that one ap-
ple or one orange only be to be procured, this each will instinctively
desire to appropriate to himself; for an equal distribution of the object
of their desires between them must be the result of posterior experience
and reflection, and not the spontaneous suggestion of the occasion. Is
the one a little stronger or more alert than the other, he will avail him-
self of these advantages over his fellow-being to seize the object of his
wishes. By this sole appropriation, the other sustains, not an ima-
ginary, but a real loss. The natural desire for necessary aliment will
aggravate his feelings of disappointment and defeat, into aversion, re-
sentment, and vengeance, against his spoiler; and should he be fre-
quently thwarted in a similar way by his companion, nothing short of the
entire destruction of that companion will appear sufficient to secure him-
self from future privations and sufferings. This process will take place
in the breast of the weaker being, even although the stronger should not
attempt to assume to himself still greater advantages, in consequence of
his acknowledged superiority. That the latter will, however, be go-
verned by sentiments so moderate, is extremely improbable. The self-
gratulation arising from consciousness of power, will yield a pleasure
too delicious not to induce the desire of again experiencing such delight.
He will thus naturally be disposed to exercise his superior faculties, not
when the calls of necessity only, but when the suggestions of vanity or
caprice may furnish opportunity. Hence, his feebler neighbour will by
degrees be reduced to absolute slavery, dependent on the other for even
the necessary means of existence; and of this existence itself, should he
long continue refractory, he will probably be at last deprived. Thus
may be traced the origin of the worst feelings and actions by which
human beings are distinguished; and by a similar but opposite process
may the rise and progress of the best sentiments and conduct be
explained. In absolute sequestration and solitude, neither virtue nor
vice can exist: but without virtue and vice in society, human beings can
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have no existence. When this simple and obvious theory of what is
called the origin of evil, (a theory by far too simple and too obvious to
have fixed the attention of presumptuous philosophy in any period of
the world,) is considered, it will excite no surprise, that the history of
mankind, under even the most favourable circumstances, should present
little else than an endless chain of deplorable wickedness and wretch-
edness, equally the natural consequences of folly and of vice. "We are
a contemptible gang of plunderers, pests of society, meriting, forsooth,
punishment the most severe and disgraceful, because we appropriate to
ourselves the property of unoffending men, and even, on some occasions,
deprive the owners of life; and all this we do, few in number, more
frequently by secret stratagem than by open force, and even in some
measure authorised by the sanction of necessity. Thou, on the other
hand, born to independence, to wealth, to power, to supreme dominion,
without even a rival to attempt to obstruct the gratification of thy de-
sires; without provocation, without invitation, without necessity, with-
out any motive or reason, which a man of genuine courage and truth, a
friend to human kind, would avow;-thou destroyest cities, the abode
of industry, knowledge, and patriotism; thou layest waste peaceable
and flourishing countries where thou hast received no injury; thou
causest to flow torrents of the blood of nations who never even heard of
thy name: and all this thou dost at the head of armed myriads, in open
defiance of common justice and humanity; therefore art thou exalted to
the rank of a hero, a conqueror of worlds, a demigod." In such a strain,
we are told, was the mighty Alexander of Macedon addressed by the
petty chief of a band of pirates who fell into his hands, and whom he
conceived himself authorised to punish, in an exemplary manner, for their
outrages on society; and the observations are fully warranted by the
undeviating practice of all people, and of all times. Hence, we find in
the most ancient records of human society, applause and reward lavishly
bestowed on the successful warrior, whether just or unjust the cause in
which he was engaged. But besides these and other marks of the real
or supposed admiration and gratitude of their armies and people, con-
querors were in the habit of constructing some more substantial evidence
of their victories, on the scene of their exploits. At one time a rude
block of stone, at another a mound or hillock of stones and earth, raised
on the field of battle, served at once to point out the spot where the ho-
nours of the victor were achieved, and where rested from their toils the
human beings prematurely cut off, in the performance of the duties he
imposed. Of such monuments many examples still survive the long
lapse of ages, in our own country, in Cornwall in Wales and in Scot-
land. These dumb memorials came at last into disrepute : they record-
ed, indeed, a slaughter and a victory; but succeeding generations, when
tradition grew feeble, or entirely died away, were left to conjecture the
cause of their erection; and the mighty warrior was thus bereft of half
his glory.
When the Romans began to establish themselves in the
southern parts of Gaul, and to extend the boundaries of their province,
now Provence, Languedoc, and Dauphiny in France, they first con-
structed durable memorials of the success usually accompanying the exer◄
tions of united and well-disciplined bands, although far from numerous,
against countless multitudes of irregular, ungovernable barbarians. Two
Roman generals, Domitius Ænobarbus and Fabius Maximus, erected on
the banks of the Rhone, saxea turres, towers built of stone, supporting
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trophies, consisting of arms offensive and defensive, standards, instru-
ments of martial music, and other pledges of victory, taken from the
vanquished Gauls. This conduct on the part of their commanders was
highly reproved at Rome; for until then the Romans had never allowed
themselves, even after their most signal success in war, to erect in the
midst of a conquered people any monument whatever, by which they
should be reminded of their subjection, and be consequently excited to
endeavour to regain their former independence :-" Never before this,"
says the historian, " did the Roman people upbraid any conquered nation
with their own defeat." This happened about 120 years before our era.
Some time afterwards, Pompey constructed on the summit of the Pyre-
nees, near their eastern extremity, a permanent building, as a memorial
of his successes, slight enough indeed, over partial but patriotic attempts
of the Spaniards to throw off the Roman yoke. This action was also
severely reprobated at Rome. The same magnanimous sentiment ac-
tuated not the free states of Greece only, but even the despotic and mi-
litary kingdom of Macedon. "States and nations," said those ancients,
"like individuals and families, will differ upon particular points, where
their interests, real or supposed, are concerned. These differences will
lead to quarrels, and even to the most hostile proceedings and open war-
fare. It is not unnatural that, in these contests in arms, the victors
should endeavour to confirm the courage and ardour of their own people,
and to depress the spirit of their adversaries, by some public testimony
of their superiority. For such a purpose, a few helmets, and breast-
plates, and shields, and swords, taken from the vanquished, and sup-
ported against a spear, or suspended on a tree, on the scene of victory,
will be fully sufficient. Let not, however, sich emblems of superiority
be of long duration. The passions of men will cool, their views of in-
terest will change, and the parties which to-day meet with deadly ran-
cour in the field, will be found in a short time united in one common
cause, and fighting, as friends and brothers, against an ally of one of the
parties on a former occasion, but now become a common foe. It is, be-
sides, to be considered, that success in war is not always attached to one
side: no nation was ever always victorious, nor always discomfited.
Let us never, therefore, by permanent records of our temporary superi-
ority, labour to cherish and foment among our neighbours that spirit of
hostility, which, at no distant day, it may be equally our desire and our
interest entirely to extinguish. Injuries men often will and do forgive;
insults, perhaps, never." Such were the wise and magnanimous senti-
ments and principles of the Greeks and Romans, the two most enlight-
ened nations of antiquity, in their best days. In the degenerate days of
Titus and Vespasian, however, when Rome reigned paramount over the
greater portion of the civilised world, the feeling of national importance
and independence, the source and support every manly, generous,
and patriotic principle, was next to extinct in the nations of Europe.
The example set in the case of Titus, was speedily followed; and not
only Rome itself, but numbers of the principal cities over the empire
were adorned with edifices, triumphal, tropheal, and commemoratory,
many of which still remain, exhibiting admirable specimens of architec-
ture and sculpture; and by the inscriptions and representations with
which they are charged, serving to illustrate and establish the dates of
many important historical facts. Wisdom, justice, and moderation, are
immutable; and as such, never (let weak, and consequently narrow-
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minded men say what they may,) can be inexpedient or out of season.
Human nature is at this day what it was twenty centuries ago. Let
then the prudence and humanity by which states were then governed,
and not the overbearing presumption and insolence on the one hand,
and the abject interested adulation on the other, by which later periods
have often been characterised, suggest the most commendable models
for modern imitation.-But to return to the arch of Titus: it may just
be added, that the unfortunate branches of the Hebrew nation estab-
lished in Rome, made an arrangement, many years ago, with the go-
vernment, agreeably to which, for the payment of a certain sum of mo-
ney, they were permitted to open a narrow passage by the side of that
arch, which, although not now connected with the inhabited part of the
town, is situated in the heart of the old city, on a very public thorough-
fare; that their minds might not be tortured unnecessarily by the display
of the emblems of the final destruction and extinction of their religion
and their state, of their name and their nation. This digression, the
reader will, it is trusted, without difficulty pardon. It arose naturally
from the subject, and may, perhaps, suggest certain considerations not
unprofitable at the present conjuncture.
With respect to the kind and degree of ornament to be introduced
into a column and its appendages, it is a maxim founded in our natural
sentiment of what is decorous and beautiful, that if we are in doubt con-
cerning the proper medium, we should always stop short of the sup-
posed point, and be careful never to go beyond it. The pupil of an an-
cient painter of Greece produced a Venus loaded with jewels. "Unable
to make the goddess beautiful," said his master, "you have thought to
atone for that defect by making her rich and fine." The dignified so-
briety and gravity becoming an edifice appropriated to religious purposes,
or to the senatorial and legislative assemblies of a great and an enlightened
people, the massive solidity and strength inherent in our idea of a for-
tress, the light, airy, exhilarating notion attached to the name of a thea-
tre, or other place of amusement; all these qualifications of the edifices
to be constructed, will, to an architect of genius, suggest the species
and the measure of the ornament suitable to each. A slender, delicate,
and highly enriched Corinthian portico to Newgate prison, could not
be more incongruous, nor indicate a greater want of taste in the builder,
than a massive, heavy, clumsy Doric (if Doric it be), range of pillars,
and their pediments corresponding, apparently forbidding, but, doubt-
less, meaning to invite the passing stranger to enter the theatre of Co-
vent Garden. When we examine the monuments remaining from an-
tiquity, we find that the cyma, the cavetto, or other ornament formed
by cutting into the substance of the work, is employed as a finishing
only, and never where strength is required: that the ovolo and talon
are employed to support the essential parts of the entablature, such as
the modillions, dentiles, and corona: that the principal use of the torus
and astragal is to secure and strengthen the extremities of the columns;
being also employed for the same purpose in pedestals, carved so as to
resemble a rope or cable, agreeably to the original signification of the
term torus; that the scotia serves merely to separate the members of
the base, as does also the fillet, not only in the base but in profiles of all
kinds. By the term profile is here meant the assemblage of parts,
mouldings, and ornaments of a cornice, &c. in which the elevation and
projection of each member are exhibited. The most perfect profiles are


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those consisting of the fewest mouldings adapted to the order of the co-
lumn, so disposed that the rightlined and the curved members succeed
one another alternately. In every profile one member should be predomi-
nant, to which all the others must appear subordinate; thus, in a cor-
nice, the corona is the chief member, the cyma or the cavetto covers and
defends it from the rain, while the modillions, dentiles, ovolo, and talon,
serve to support it. In the arrangement of the exterior of a building,
whatever does not directly tend to characterise its destination, however
beautiful in itself, is always misplaced. Greatness of character in an
edifice is principally produced by largeness and simplicity of parts: such
parts, not only by their own magnitude, but by the great masses of
light and shade they exhibit, when fully illuminated, excite the idea of
grandeur. An object may be great without being grand; but grandeur
and smallness of parts are wholly incompatible. One of the most exten-
sive edifices in Europe is the king of Spain's palace at the Escurial, not
far from Madrid. It covers a vast extent of ground, inclosing a num-
ber of courts, porticos, chapels, &c. in its bosom. Having, however,
been constructed as a monastery rather than as a palace, (for the royal
apartments are confined to a very small portion of the structure) the
building is divided into various floors, and consequently the exterior
walls are pierced with various ranges of comparatively small windows
adapted to the cells and halls of the monks. The consequence of all
this is, that the idea of grandeur and magnificence raised in the mind of
the spectator, while approaching it from a distance, and observing its
prodigious dimensions, entirely vanishes away, when, on a closer view,
the whole is discovered to be only an assemblage of small diminutive
parts and members, such as might be suitably introduced into a manu-
factory, a barrack, an hospital, or a convent. Many objections have been
made to Blenheim palace, in Oxfordshire, as clumsy, ponderous, in-
elegant, and by no means corresponding to the customary notion of a
country residence. That magnificent edifice was erected at the expence
of the nation, to commemorate the signal victory obtained in 1704, near
Blenheim, a village on the north bank of the Danube, by the allied ar-
my, under the duke of Marlborough. That distinguished and modest
commander stands, next to Julius Cæsar, unrivalled in history for
fect coolness and possession of himself in action; who, so far from ever
exposing himself to the possibility of being surprised, whatever might have
been the talents of his opponent, never rested until he was so close upon
the enemy, as, in many cases, to disconcert their measures, and prevent
their forming any project against himself, for the greater part of a cam-
paign. Like Cæsar also, in person a hero, he was scrupulously tender
of the lives of his men, and to spare them, would often forego the oppor-
tunity of a brilliant, but sanguinary and useless victory, for the more
slow, but more secure, and infinitely more difficult advantages to be
obtained by skilful occupation of ground. On a due consideration of
the destination of Blenheim, it will be manifest that the architect, Sir
John Vanburgh, intended, by throwing the structure into a variety of
large projecting and retiring masses of building, to produce broad and
powerful effects of light and shade; and by that contrivance to fill the
spectator with an idea of the vast magnitude of the parts, and of the whole,
far beyond what their real magnitude, considerable as it is, could be ex-
pected to excite.
per-
Caryatides. Besides regular columns and pilasters we sometimes
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meet, in ancient and in modern architecture, entablatures supported by
human figures. These are termed Caryatides from the following cir-
cumstance: Five hundred years before our era, Xerxes, the powerful
monarch of Persia, led a prodigious army and fleet against the free and
independent republics of Greece. Successful at first, more by treachery
than valour, he was at last discomfited at every point, and compelled to
return with disgrace and ruin to his own country. Carya, a town of
Peloponesus, had basely formed a league with the invader; and upon
his flight it was besieged by the other states, levelled to the ground, the
male inhabitants put to the sword, and the unhappy, perhaps innocent
females reduced to slavery of the severest kind. To perpetuate to fu-
ture ages the infamy and the punishment of the people of Carya, in
Athens and in many other parts of Greece, buildings were erected, in
which were introduced, in the place of columns and pilasters, figures of
Caryan women, supporting the load of a cornice and entablature. In
general these figures are attached like pilasters to the wall; but in
Athens they are also found detached, and performing the duty of co-
lumns. Male figures are also employed in the same way in some an-
cient buildings in Greece and in Rome; in Greece they are evidently
intended to represent Persian prisoners taken from Xerxes. From this
account it is evident that human figures, in the place of columns or
pilasters, ought, if at all, to be introduced on very particular occasions
indeed. They nevertheless are often seen in the palaces of princes,
and even in private dwellings. Our churches themselves, in which au
adventitious distinctions among mankind ought, if any where, to disap-
pear, are not free from this absurdity. These poor females, humiliated,
borne down with a heavy load, are meant, we are to understand, for the
muses and the graces, the virtues and the angels themselves. Could
the vices which corrupt, and the furies which torment the human race
be thus chained down, and so rendered in some sort subservient to our
use, such an application of Persians and Caryatides might easily be re-
conciled to reason. A party of angelic figures have lately taken post on
the top of the new steeple of the new church in the new road in Mary-
le-bourne. To vulgar eyes they seem to be placed there for no other
purpose than to support the crown of the edifice. As, however, their
countenances are severally directed, to every point of the compass, they
may perform the duty of sentinels to guard the church from all external
assault: internal danger is beyond their ken. Not only entire human
figures, but simple busts are also employed occasionally, to support the
entablatures of monuments, chimney-pieces, &c. The head is placed on
a stand smaller below than above; and the whole is called a term, from
terminus, a boundary, the Roman name of the land-marks, or march-
stones, erected round fields and possessions, to point out the boundaries
between the lands of different proprietors. The protecting charge of
these land-marks, as of every thing else connected with the affairs of in-
dustry and commerce, being entrusted to Mercury, by the Romans as
well as by the Greeks, the top of the stone or post was carved in re-
semblance of his head; so that to destroy, or remove, or deface such
monuments, was wisely regarded, not only as a gross injustice to men,
but as a voluntary and impious offence against the powers above.
1
It now remains to give a few observations on the construction of
bridges, one of the most important and difficult applications of architec
tural skill
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BRIDGES. By a bridge we mean a structure of stone, brick, timber,
or iron, erected over a river, a canal, a valley, or other depression in the
ground; and supported on piers and arches, or on posts; for opening a
communication for passengers cattle and carriages, across from the one
side to the other. The perfection of a bridge consists in its having a
good foundation that it may be durable, an easy ascent and descent that
it may be convenient, and a just proportion in its several parts that it
may be beautiful. Bridges should always be placed at right angles to
the course of the river, &c. and the piers should never be thicker than
is just necessary to support the structure against the force of the cur-
rent.


،
The simplest theory of the arch, supporting itself in equilibrium (that
is, in such a state that the tendency of every part to fall down or give
way is perfectly equal), is that of Dr. Hooke, the greatest of all philo-
sophical mechanics, who flourished in the latter part of the seventeenth
century. The arch, when it has only its own weight to bear, may be
considered as the reverse of a chain suspended freely at each end; for
the chain hangs in such a form that the weight of each link is held in
equilibrium, by the result of the two forces acting at its extremities;
and these forces or tensions are produced, the one by the weight of the
portion of the chain below any particular link, the other by the same
weight increased by that of the link, both of them acting originally in
a vertical direction. Now supposing the chain inverted so as to consti-
tute an arch of the same form and weight, the relative situations of all
the lines, indicating the directions of the forces, will remain the same,
the forces acting only in contrary directions; so that they are compound-
ed in a similar manner, and balance each other on the same conditions,
but with this difference, that the equilibrium of the chain is stable, and
that of the arch is tottering. When the links are supposed to be infi-
nitely small, and the curvature of the chain is greatest in the middle,
the chain forms what is called the catenarian curve, from catena a chain.
In common cases this form of an arch differs but little from a circular
arch of about 120°, or one-third of a whole circle, arising from the
abutments with an inclination of 30° to the perpendicular: the arch
however becomes more curved at some distance below the summit, and
then again less curved.
The supposition however of an arch resisting a weight acting only in
a vertical direction is by no means perfectly applicable to cases usually
occurring in practice. The pressure of loose stones and earth, moisten-
ed as they generally must be by rain, is exerted very nearly in the
same manner as the pressure of fluids, which act equally in all direc-
tions: and even if the stones and earth were united into a solid mass,
they would constitute a sort of wedge, and produce a pressure of a si-
milar nature.
A bridge must also be so calculated as to support itself, without being
in danger of falling by the defect of the lateral adhesion of its parts. In
order that it may, in this respect, be of equal strength throughout, the
depth at each point must be proportional to the weight of the parts be-
yond it. This property belongs to the logarithmic curve alone, the
ength being made to correspond with the logarithm of the depth. But
n the construction of bridges it is necessary to inquire what is the best
orm for supporting any weight which may occasionally be placed on
he bridge, in particular on its weakest part, which is usually the mid-
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ARCHITECTURE.
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dle of the arch, Supposing the depth at the summit of the arch and
at the abutments to be given, it may be considerably reduced in the
intermediate parts, without impairing the strength; and whether the
road along the bridge be horizontal or a little inclined, it is agreed that
an elliptic arch, not differing much from a circular, is the best cal-
culated for complying as much as possible with all necessary condi-
tions.
The tier of bricks cut obliquely, which is usually placed over a door
or a window, is a real arch, but so flat as to allow the outline to appear
horizontal. Little dependence however can be placed on so flat an arch,
since it produces a lateral thrust that might easily overpower the resist-
ance of a side wall. For the horizontal force required to support
each end of an arch is always equal to the weight of a quantity of the
materials supported by its summit, supposed to be continued of their
actual depth, to the length of the radius of the circle, of which the sum-
mit of the arch is a portion. This simple calculation will enable an
architect to avoid such accidents as but too often happen to bridges, for
want of sufficient firmness in the abutments. Very eminent modern
architects have sometimes been less successful in constructing arches of
bridges and other edifices than those of former times, whom it is but
too common to despise; and for want of attention to mechanic principles
they have committed such errors in their attempts to procure an equili-
brium, as have been followed by the most mischievous consequences.
Examples of this mismanagement might be pointed out in the bridges
of our own country, and the churches of others: but if we are masters
of the true nature and action of pressure we shall be able to avoid si-
milar errors, unless some defect in the materials, the foundation, &c.
occur which could not be foreseen.

It is desirable that the piers of bridges should be so firm as to be able,
not only to support the weight of half of each adjoining arch, but also
to sustain the side-thrust of one of them, should the other give way.
The same condition is necessary for the stability of walls of any kind,
employed in supporting an arched or vaulted roof: hence the utility of
the external buttresses which strengthen and adorn Gothic structures.
There are two ways in which a pier or a wall may give way, it may
either be overset or caused to slide away horizontally. But since the
friction or adhesion which resists the side motion is usually greater than
one-third of the pressure, it seldom happens that the whole thrust of
the arch is so oblique as not to produce a sufficient vertical pressure, for
securing the stability in this respect: and it is only necessary to make
the pier heavy enough to resist the force which tends to overset it. It
is not however the weight of the pier only, but that of the half of the
arch which rests on it, that resists every effort to overset it; and in or-
der that the pier may stand, the sum of these weights, acting on the
end of a lever, equal to half the thickness of the pier, must be more
than equivalent to the horizontal thrust, acting on the whole height of
the pier. The pier may also be considered simply as forming a conti-
nuation of the arch; and the stability will be preserved as long as the
curve, indicating the direction of the pressure, remains within its sub-
The dimensions of the piers must depend on the size and form
of the arch, as also on the force of the current to be opposed. In tide
rivers such as the Thames, the current acts twice a day in contrary di-
rections, rising considerably above the surface of the river itself, and re-
stance.
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ARCHITECTURE.
301
turning to that level. The pressure on the piers is therefore very un-
equal; and from the circumstance that the stones must be thus in a con-
tinual alternation between wet and dry, the selection and placing of the
materials becomes a matter of the greatest importance. Some persons
are of opinion that blocks of stone resist the action of water and sun, of
wet and dry weather best when placed exactly in the same position as
when they lay in the quarry. Whether this circumstance, if real, was
attended to or not, in the construction of Blackfriars bridge in London;
or whether the stone was of an improper kind; it is certain that such
parts of the piers as are exposed to be covered by the tide are now in a
state of manifest decay; while the corresponding parts of Westminster
bridge are comparatively but little affected; although it was founded in
1738, and the former bridge not till 1760. The new Strand bridge is
built of granite, the least subject to decay of all stone from external
causes. The stone lately employed in constructing the grand quay
along the front of the arsenal of Woolwich is drawn from the vicinity
of Dundee in Scotland, and is found to answer much better in such a
situation where it is alternately with short intervals wet and dry, than
any formerly employed. It has been likewise used in some of the great
basons and docks in London, and in constructing the piers to support
the iron bridge over the Thames at Vauxhall.
In building a bridge the most essential part of the enterprize is to se-
cure a good foundation. The most simple method of doing this, and
carrying up the piers to the ordinary height of the water, is to turn the
river out of its course, above the position of the bridge, into a new
channel opened for it, near the place where it makes an elbow or bend;
or by raising an inclosure round the spot where the pier is to be built,
to keep out the water, by driving a double row of stakes into the bed
of the river, very near one another, with their tops above the surface
of the water. Hurdles are then put within this double row of stakes,
the side of the row which is next to the intended pier is closed up, and
the hollow between the rows filled with rushes and mud, so closely
rammed down that water will not pass through. The mud, sand,
stones, &c. within this inclosure are then dug out, until a solid founda-
tion appear: when such a foundation cannot be found, one of wooden
piles, having their lower ends well charred (See chemistry, p. 120.) to
prevent their rotting, and driven into the bottom of the river as close
together as possible, must be made. Some architects have formed a
continued foundation the whole length of the bridge, and not merely
under the piers. In doing this, first one part of the river is excluded,
and then another, until the whole foundation be laid. When a river is
but of moderate depth, having such a bed as may serve for a natural
foundation, capable of bearing, without subsidence in whole or in part,
a heavy pier, then a strong frame of oak is constructed and kept upon
the surface by boats around it. On this frame is laid a thick stratum or
layer of stone, cramped together by iron bars, and united by strong
terras mortar; the whole of which being then specifically heavier than
the water, is suffered gently to sink down to the bottom, on the spot
where the pier is to stand. If it be required to construct a bridge across a
fordable river or a canal, where the course of the water may be turn-
ed off, either by a wooden fence placed obliquely across the river, or by
a channel dug on one side; then a dam must be formed entirely across
the stream with piles, at a convenient distance above the place of the
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intended bridge. The ground is then dug out until a proper solid
foundation present itself; and all the piers may be founded and raised
up to the usual height of the river, at the same time; after which the
river is permitted to return to its original channel. When the stream
is by far too considerable to be turned aside coffer-dams are formed, of
a circular shape, to inclose the spot where each pier is to be built. The
dam is made, as before said, by driving into the bed of the river a
double row of stout piles, either charred at the lower end, when the
bed is easily penetrable, or shod for several feet with iron, where it is
hard. The piles are forced into the ground by repeated blows from the
pile-engine: the piles are covered with boarding without and within, so
as to be tolerably water-tight; and the water which does make its way
through the walls, or which springs out of the inclosed bed, is drawn
off by pumps and hand-labour, or, if the undertaking be considerable,
by means of a steam engine.
Besides bridges other bodies of masonry are also requisite, if not
completely to traverse, at least to advance a considerable way into wa-
ter: such are the moles and piers carried out from the land into the sea,
from opposite points of the shore, and mutually bending round towards
each other at their extreme points, where they leave an interval suffi-
cient for the passage of ships out or in. In our seas where we have
the advantage of the retreat of the sea twice a day at low water, such
structures can be founded and carried up in general without particular
difficulty. In the Mediterranean however, where the rise and fall of
the tide is either very unimportant or wholly insensible, as along the
coasts of Spain, France, Italy, &c. the construction of a mole becomes an
enterprize of vast labour and difficulty and expence. The work begins
at the shore, by throwing into the sea blocks of rock or stone, the larger
and ruder the more useful. These find their place in the bottom, and
by accumulating block upon.block over them at last they rise above the
surface of the water. The work being so far advanced advantage is
taken of the blocks above water to form a road, by which other blocks
are carried out and rolled into the sea, beyond those already placed ;
and these again in their turn serve, when they come to the surface, to
convey another succession of blocks, until the foundation of the mole
be carried out to the intended extent. When we take into considera-
tion the inequalities of the bottom of the sea, where not covered
with hard sand; the incessant internal motion of the waters produ-
ced by currents, to say nothing of the superficial agitation produced by
the winds; that most rocks and stones lose a great part of their weight,
when immersed in salt water, and are consequently the more easily
moved about from place to place by the motion of the waters; also the
great extent in breadth to which rude blocks of stone or rock will ne-
cessarily roll, before they find a bed, either in the bottom of the sea, or
upon one another:-when all these things are considered, the structure
of moles and piers in such seas must appear to be an enterprise of ex-
treme difficulty, and expence. In such seas however no other mode of
constructing an artificial harbour can be devised. When the foundation
is supposed to be sufficiently consolidated, and is raised above the sur-
face of the water, the mole is completed by a structure of hewn stone,
founded in the interstices of the sunk blocks, and adapted to the pur-
poses of commercial and maritime affairs. Of this construction are the
old and the new moles of Gibraltar, of Alicant, Tarragona, and Barce-
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lona, in Spain; of Sette, and Toulon in France; of Genoa, Leghorn,
Civita Vecchia, Naples, and Ancona in Italy, &c. The famous antique
mole at Pozzuoli, in the bay of Naples, is constructed with piers and
arches founded in the sea, and is from its appearance called Caligula's
bridge, having been, as is supposed, erected by that imperial monster.
On the same principles with the moles just described is constructed
what is called the break-water, in the entrance of Plymouth haven; in
the view of abating the violence of the waves and currents which have,
on many occasions, proved most prejudicial to the fleets resorting to
that otherwise admirable station for shipping of every sort. In the re-
port laid before parliament concerning this prodigious enterprise, which
is carried on at the public expence, the engineers Messrs Rennie and
Whitby, (the former the engineer for the Strand bridge in London,)
state that there are properly speaking three entrances into Plymouth
Sound or Haven, viz. one on the west side of the bay, bounded by a
long cluster of small rocks called Scot's Ground, on which the depth is
only from three to four fathoms, (from 18 to 24 feet) at low water; and
on the east by the Knap and Panther, on which is about the same depth
of water. This channel is about 500 fathoms wide, and the general
depth is from 5 fathoms to 6, at low water. The middle channel is
bounded by the Knap and Panther on the west, and by the Tinker and
Shovel on the east; about 300 fathoms wide, and the general depth
from 6 to 8 fathoms at low water. From this description it appears
that a large part of the middle of Plymouth Sound is shut up by the
Shovel, and St. Carlos rocks, that is as a channel for large ships. Of
course works erected on those rocks would be no obstruction to passage
in or out of the sound. If a pier or break-water were constructed on
the Shovel rocks and extended westward, so as to shut up in part the
channel between them and the Panther, and also to shut up or narrow
the spaces between St. Carlos rocks and Andurn point, the tide being
then confined to a narrower space, the velocity of the current would be
increased, and consequently the channels where it passed deepened. It
seemed therefore proper that a pier or break-water, should be construct-
ed in the sound, having its eastern end about 60 fathoms east from St.
Carlos rocks, and its western end about 300 fathoms west from the
Shovel, forming in the whole a length of 850 fathoms. Of this pier 500
fathoms in the middle should be straight, and 175 at each end inclined
at an angle of 120 degrees. In addition to this break-water, another
should be extended from Andurn point on the shore, towards the former,
of about 400 fathoms in length, having also a part inclined at an equal
angle. These inclined parts were to reflect the waves in such a manner
as to prevent them from passing violently through the opening between
the piers, and so shelter the Sound within, as to permit fifty sail of line
of battle ships to ride at anchor in safety, in all winds and weather; and
with ample room to work their way out to sea, by one or other of the
channels, as their position and the state of the wind might render most
convenient. These great works were to be constructed by large blocks
of stone thrown at random into the sea, in the line of the intended
break-water, to find their own bed. Stones from a ton and a half to
two tons weight would probably resist the swell of the Sound, in stormy
weather. Where the water is 5 fathoms deep, the base of the break-
water should not be less than seven times that depth, or 70 yards in
breadth, and 10 yards broad at a height of 10 feet above the level of
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low water of ordinary spring tides. The slope of this foundation on
the outer side next to the sea should be in the proportion of 3 yards
horizontal, for 1 yard perpendicular; but the slope on the inside next
the sound would require an inclination of only half that quantity, or 1½
yard horizontal, for 1 yard perpendicular. To the project here describ-
ed, and now far advanced towards completion, various objections were
made, particularly by Mr. Bentham, who had executed some works at
Sheerness, at the conflux of the Thames and the Medway, somewhat of
the same nature, but in circumstances incomparably more easy to man-
age, than in the open stormy entrance of Plymouth Sound. He ob-
served that such a work as that proposed by Messrs Rennie and Whitby,
even supposing sufficient precaution to have been taken to prevent any
injury to the harbour during its execution, and that the whole were
completed in its greatest perfection, would nevertheless, by opposing
throughout its extent a complete interruption to the water, occasion
such eddies in the wake of the work, and such an increased action on
the bottom and sides of the parts left open, as could not fail of forming
shoals, more or less injurious, according to the nature of the soil, and
other local circumstances. Mr. Bentham's plan was to sink in the sea,
but in a line of direction different from that of the other engineers, a
double row of cylindrical masses of stone work, leaving an interval be-
tween each two masses above, equal to their diameter; placing the masses
in one row opposite to, and covering the intervals between, the masses in
the other row. By this arrangement, while the two rows in conjunc-
tion formed a complete obstacle to the direct course of the waves, the
tide or current would be allowed to pass freely between the masses,
throughout the whole extent of the break-water; boats also and even
small vessels might, in moderate weather, pass through the intervals
without danger. Notwithstanding these objections and proposals, the
scheme of Messrs. Rennie and Whitby, all circumstances duly balanced,
was adopted by government, and ordered to be carried into effect. On
a plan much of the kind proposed by Mr. Bentham, was begun in
France, before the revolution, a project for forming an artificial road-
stead, or place of anchorage for ships of war, in front of Cherbourg, on
the north coast of Normandy. This place situated in the bottom of a
wide open bay, on a part of the coast projecting considerably into the
British Channel, lies only about 60 miles south from the Isle of Wight,
and therefore offers a most advantageous position for watching the mo-
tions of British fleets, moving up or down the channel, or proceeding
from or into the great place of rendezvous at Portsmouth or Spithead.
Cherbourg possesses no natural qualifications for a shipping-station, be-
ing merely a tide-harbour formed by a small river falling into the sea.
Basons had been excavated, and locks constructed in former times, by
the means of which frigates and smaller vessels could be conveniently
protected; all with uncommon ingenuity, and at a very moderate ex-
pence. It was not enough for an engineer in France to give proof of
his genius and skill in his profession, in producing the best method of
accomplishing any desired object; his great merit consisted in inventing
how to accomplish that object, in the most economical, as well as the
most ingenious manner. By giving this turn to the public mind, works
of the highest importance to the state and to individuals were carried
on, in that country, for sums which, in some other countries, would be
regarded as utterly inadequate to the purpose. All persons charged




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805
with the execution of public works, even those whom we call civil en-
gineers employed in the construction of harbours, bridges, canals,
roads, &c. were military men, regularly bred, and under due but liberal
controul, enjoying rank and emoluments sufficient for their station in
society. And an instance of a superior officer of the French corps of
Royal Engineers, suspected, accused, tried, and convicted of recommend-
ing works which he well knew to be unnecessary, not to say prejudicial,
that he might have an opportunity of enriching himself during their exe-
cution; or of conniving at, not to say inventing, enormous abuses and
extravagant expenditure, in the management of the public monies, in
order that he might be suffered, by the plunderers under him, quietly
to amass his treasures; that a field-officer of engineers should be proved
to have stooped so low as even to make false returns of the quantity of
coals and candles necessary for his official business ; -an instance of
such degrading delinquency is perhaps unknown in the history of
French military jurisprudence. How far the same remark can be ap-
plied to a certain other country, the constant rival and often the enemy
of France, the records of the courts which take cognisance of such of-
fences against duty, honour, and even common honesty, will bear am-
ple but humiliating testimony. As Cherbourg possessed no outer,
harbour or road, such as Portsmouth possesses at Spithead, it be
came necessary to inclose a portion of the bay to answer that pur-
pose. Piers or break-waters of continued construction were thought of:
but at last it was resolved to sink a long range of wooden truncated
cones into the sea, at certain distances asunder, which being afterwards
filled with massy blocks of stone, would form a succession of solid im-
movable masses, sufficient to break the violence of the external waves,
and render the space within incomparably more quiet and secure than
it was in its natural state. The cones were strongly compacted of oak,
narrower above than below, and resembling a deep tub standing on its
base, without a bottom. By most ingenious contrivances the cones were
floated out to their destined situation, by means of empty casks made
'air tight, which were afterwards detached, and the frame allowed to
sink to the bottom. The sides were of sufficient height to be always
above water, and when filled with stone withstood the action of the
tides and waves. This great enterprise, the only thing of the kind in
the world, was naturally interrupted by the disorders of the revolution
in France, but was afterwards resumed, with great activity; so that in
future wars with France, (and wars, notwithstanding the present vio-
lent fit of mutual affection by which the governments are said to be ac-
tuated, will without doubt arise,) Cherbourg may become a most
troublesome neighbour to Britain.
Wooden bridges. Besides stone, timber is on many occasions employed
to open a communication across a river; and in some cases it has great-
ly the advantage, as when the current is particularly rapid; for there
the posts or piles supporting the road, presenting, either individually or
collectively, but a small obstacle to the stream, often effectually resist
its violence, when a stone pier, if it could easily be constructed in such-
a position, would not long keep its ground. Hence it is, that not only
in our own country, but more particularly on the continent, stone bridges
over great rivers are comparatively rare. Thus, on the Rhone, for in-
stance, which, rising in the highest Alps of Switzerland, makes its way
to the sea through the southern parts of France, bridges of stone have
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ARCHITECTURE.
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often been constructed, and as often carried away by the stream, so
that at this day, perhaps, not more than two remain. The Rhone is,
however, the most rapid river of its size in Europe. On the Rhine,
which, rising not far from the source of the Rhorie, takes an oppositė
course through Germany and Holland into the Germani ocean, and is so
much less rapid as its course is longer, stone bridges are quite un-
known. But this is owing not only to the great body of water it carries
along, but also to the policy of the different states along its banks, each
unwilling that the opposite state should, by a standing bridge of ma-
sonry, possess means of making hostile attempts across the rivers. At
Strasburgh, for instance, a large and prosperous city of Alsace in
France, seated on the west bank of the Rhine, commanding by its for-
tifications a much frequented passage over the river into Germany, the
bridge was, and, perhaps is, formed by ranges of piles driven into the
river, from space to space, to form the piers, supporting rafters and
planks for the road, kept in their place by wooden bolts or treenails; so
that with a few strokes of a hammer or hatchet, the planks could be
cast loose and removed, and all passage along the bridge effectually cut
off. The German end of the bridge was also guarded by works, to pre-
vent the French from penetrating by that communication. This is the
bridge of Kehl, celebrated in ever history of hostilities between France
and Germany.

Various are the methods employed in the construction of wooden
bridges, governed principally by the extent of water they are to cross.
Even in the narrowest, it is improper to trust to the resistance of beams
reaching from bank to bank; for they ought to be trussed, that is, to
be supported by pieces of timber reaching. from each bank, near the
water, obliquely towards the middle of the bridge. This contrivance
will add greatly to its strength, and prevent its bending under passing
loads. One of the most important particulars to be considered in wood-
en bridges, is the seasoning of the timber. It is well known, that the
decay of fir timber is generally owing to the moist sappy nature of its
exterior surface. This moisture must be completely removed before
any paint or priming be applied, in the view of securing it from the
weather. If left in its natural state, this sap would, by the action of the
wind and heat, be gradually carried off, and the fir beam become inter-
nally dry and solid; but if the surface be covered with paint, oil, pitch,
or other substance of this kind, the sap is confined, and will soon cor-
rupt the timber, which will give way before its time, and without any
external symptom of decay. In order to dissipate the moisture or sap
of the surface, it is sometimes the practice to scorch the timbers over a
fire, turning it round regularly. The heat will attract the moisture to
the surface, and evaporate it; and the timber will acquire a hard crust,
of great service in resisting the weather. When this is done, the parts
that are to be under water should be carefully covered with pitch and
tar, sprinkled with sand and powdered shells. Those which are more
in sight, should, while the wood is still hot from the fire, be rubbed
over with linseed oil mixed with a little tar, which will then strike deep
into the wood, and soon become so hard as to be fit to be painted. Fir
timber thus prepared is found to be nearly equal to oak in durability.
At Schaffhausen, in the north part of Switzerland, was once to be seen
a wooden bridge over the Rhine, there very rapid, so that no stone bridge
could resist it, admirable in its construction, and as being the produc-
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ARCHITECTURE.
807
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MAS
tion of a plain country carpenter. The builder was directed to avail
himself of a part of one of the piers of the stone bridge still remaining
in its place, to support the intended structure. With this order he ap-
parently complied; but so contrived matters that, in the opinion of the
best judges, his bridge actually consisted but of one immense arch of near
400 feet, (the breadth of the river) having a part stooping down, as it
were, to rest upon the pier in the water, but not, as far as could be dis-
covered, actually resting on it. With very long fir beams, prepared for
the purpose, extended at an angle of moderate elevation above the hori
zon, from both sides of the river, and in conjunction with intermediate
timbers, meeting over the water, two arches were formed, being seg-
ments of large circles, and resembling the circular frame of the centring
of a stone bridge. These arches were placed parallel to one another, at a
distance sufficient for the breadth of the road, which was formed upon
timbers suspended from the arches on each side, so as to be quite horizon-
tal from end to end; and instead of going over the supporting arches, was
in fact let down in between them. The whole was roofed over, and in-
closed at the sides, with windows at convenient distances, to defend the
timber from the weather. This most ingenious and most useful piece
of carpentry, which had gained the applause of all men of genius and
skill, completely answered its destination from 1740, when it was con-
structed, to 1799, when it was wantonly and wickedly destroyed by
French invaders. The horrible excesses and barbarities in which the
French armies proudly indulged in Switzerland, during the late war,
are in a manner unknown beyond the bounds of that country:
ages, however, will not suffice to efface the remembrance of them
from the memory of the Swiss. Could any thing have aggravated the
the atrocities perpetrated by the French commanders, it was, that they
were perpetrated for the pretended purpose of introducing virtue and
freedom, and happiness among a people already eminent among the na-
tions of the continent for happiness, and freedom, and virtue. Well was
it observed in parliament, by one of the most valuable men this coun-
try ever produced, Charles James Fox, that, in their zeal for the propa
gation of liberty, virtue, and happiness over the world, the French had
so liberally given away these invaluable possessions, as not to have re-
served one atom of either for themselves.

Iron bridges. Bridges of iron are the production of British ingenui-
ty exclusively. Iron being the great staple metal of the country, it
has of late been employed in many works where great strength is
required, in proportion to the weight of the materials. Melted or
cast iron possesses several advantages over stone or wood; and these
in their turn possess advantages over cast iron. To stone, iron is
superior in tenacity and elasticity, and thence in strength, in facility of
formation in any desired shape, and in extent of the masses in which it
may be formed; qualities all conducing to its superior lightness and
cheapness. To wood, iron is superior in the same particulars, together
with durability; but in this last respect, stone has greatly the advantage
over iron, equally exposed to the weather, or other natural agents. The
greater durability of stone arises from its being less liable to decompo-
sition from the atmosphere, and from its being less elastic, and conse
quently less subject to friction among its component particles, in yield-
ing to the load and motion of carriages passing over it. Several ways
may, however, be adopted, to remedy, in a great degree, these defects
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of iron. Paint will preserve it from oxydation, or rusting, for many
years, and the application may, when necessary, be repeated without
much expense. Cast iron carriages of garrison guns have, by various
external applications, been perfectly preserved for upwards of a century.
The vibratory motion of an iron bridge may also be considerably dimi-
nished, by the manner of placing and connecting the bars of which it
consists; so that each bar shall act as nearly as possible, at right angles,
against another, and be at the same time so short, as not to be in danger
of being bent or crushed by the pressure against its length. The great-
est objection in this respect to cast iron is this, that on account of the
imperceptible differences in the purity and other qualities of the metal,
it is impossible to cast two bars or blocks, even in the same mould, which
shall shrink perfectly and equally in cooling, and consequently be of pre-
cisely the same dimensions when employed in work. When such pieces
come to be joined together, therefore, some empty space must necessarily
exist among them, which, in a large work, where many pieces are em-
ployed, must produce a very sensible play in the joinings, and conse-
quently great vibration, or reciprocal motion, in the whole structure.
This inaccuracy of the joinings may, it is true, be in some measure cor-
rected, by inserting pieces of sheet-lead in the joinings; but this metal
possesses by far too little cohesion of parts, and too little elasticity to be
of use for any length of time. In order to prevent the evils arising from
these defects of cast iron, it has been proposed to fill up the vacant spaces,
left between the iron framing, with some compact cheap materials, such
as brick, united with the composition called Roman or Parker's cement,
or pozzolana, or terras, which would readily and intimately combine
with the iron; thus defending it from the action of the atmosphere.
The interstices between the bars being thus also filled up by a conso-
lidated substance, the play, friction, and vibratory motion of the bridge
would be greatly diminished. Lightness being, however, a most desir-
able property, it has also been proposed to form hollow bricks solely for
this purpose, which being carefully and thoroughly baked, or even semi-
vitrified on the surface, would be proof against the effects of the atmo
sphere. In many parts of this island bricks are still seen, in remains of
Roman buildings, fifteen or sixteen hundred years old, in perfect preser-
vation, while the stones with which the bricks are built up in alternate
layers, are often greatly decayed, unless when enveloped in the ad-
mirably constituted mortar of those days. Iron may be used for bridges
either on the principle of equilibration, as stone is employed, or on that
of connection, by framing, as wood is sometimes employed in bridges,
but generally in roofing houses. For bridges of considerable dimen-
sions, the former is, by many judges, esteemed the best mode; but for
small bridges the latter mode will probably be found the cheapest. As
iron bars, rods, or blocks, may be firmly connected together by bolts, or
other means, an iron arch may be constructed much flatter, that is, in
the segment of a much greater circle, than if it were of stone; an ad-
vantage of very great importance in certain positions where arches of
great span are required. The first iron bridge of any note constructed
in this country, was that of Colebrookdale, in Shropshire. It consists
of five ribs, each of three concentric arches, bound together by pieces in
the direction of radii of the circle. The interior arc forms a semicircle;
but the others reach only to the sills under the road-way. These arcs pass
through an upright frame of iron at each end, serving as a guide; and


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809
the small space in the haunches between the frames and the outer arc is
filled up with a large iron ring. On the ribs are laid cast iron plates to
support the road. The span or opening of the arch is 100 feet 6 inches,
and the height from the base line, to the centre is 40 feet. The road
along the bridge is 24 feet broad, formed on a bed of clay and iron slag,
(the refuse from the furnace where iron ore is smelted) a foot in depth.
Another bridge of the same material was afterwards erected over the
mouth of the river Were, forming the harbour of Sunderland, a great coal
port in the county of Durham. The peculiar construction of this bridge.
consisted in applying iron, or other metallic substance or compound, to
form arches on the same principle with stone arches, by a subdivision
into blocks easily portable, answering to the key-stones of a common arch,
which, being made to bear on one another, will have all the firmness of
a stone arch. At the same time by the great open spaces left between
the blocks and their respective lateral distances, the arch becomes ma-
terially lighter than if it were of solid stone, and by the tenacity of the
metal the parts are so intimately connected, that the delicate but indis-
pensable calculation of the size and weight of the stones composing the
arch, becomes of but little importance. This bridge is in span 236 feet,
and as the stones from which the arch springs on each side project 2
feet, the whole opening is 240 feet. The arch is a segment of a circle
of 222 feet radius, and the height from the chord to the top of the arch
is 34 feet: but the whole height of the middle of the arch above the
surface of the river at low water is about 100 feet, so that ships can pass
under it. A series of 105 blocks forms one rib, and six of such ribs com-
pose the width of the bridge. The vacant spaces between the arch and
the road are filled up by cast iron circles, which touch the outer circum-
ference of the arch, and also support the road, gradually diminishing
from the abutments towards the centre of the bridge. Diagonal iron
bars are laid on the tops of the ribs, reaching to the abutments, to keep
the ribs from twisting. The superstructure is a strong frame of timber,
planked over to support the carriage road, composed of marle, limestone,
and gravel, with a cement of tar and chalk laid on the planks, in order
to preserve them. The whole width of the bridge is 32 feet. The
abutments are masses almost solid of masonry, 24 feet in thickness, 42
in breadth at the bottom, and 37 at the top. The weight of the iron in
the whole work is 260 tons, of which 214 are cast, and 46 wrought
iron. The expense of the whole, twenty years ago, was L.27,000.
Bridges composed of cast iron arches are now constructing across the
Thames in London; one at the upper end of the town, opposite to
Vauxhall, consisting of nine arches, resting on piers of Dundee stone;
another a short way above London bridge, to consist of only three arches
supported on stone piers, one of very great extent in the middle, with a
smaller arch on each side. A third iron bridge is in contemplation, to
be thrown over the river a good way below London bridge, to be of
such an elevation in the middle that vessels of all sorts, resorting to the
port of London, may pass under it, by only lowering the upper part of
their masts and rigging.
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CHAP. V.
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Or all the arts generally included under the appellation of Imitative,
that of painting undoubtedly deserves the first rank; not merely for the
beauty and diversity of the tints it affords, nor that artful disposition of
light and shade which often deceives the eye, but for a higher consider-
ation, namely, that of pourtraying nature in the most animated, lively,
and interesting manner. It may be defined, the art of representing, by
means of lines shadows and colours, every visible object in nature; and,
expressing, by the lineaments of the countenance, and attitude of the
body, the various emotions of the mind. On a smooth surface may be
expressed objects, not only in such a state of projection, (and if the laws
of perspective be observed) so effectually as to deceive the eye of the
unwary beholder. They may be represented also in the most enchant-
ing dress, and in a manner capable of affording delight to the senses. It
is an essential characteristic of this art, that it addresses itself to the
mind; and inspires us with pity for a suffering victim, with dread of
an impending danger, with courage to imitate an heroic example; and
with every other passion that has a seat in the human breast.
From this definition of the art it will naturally be conceived that its
successful execution is attended with no small difficulty; it is the re-
ward only of labour and assiduity: and, among its numerous followers,
how few arrive at superior excellence! None can truly appreciate the
value of the art, till they be fully acquainted with the difficulty attend-
ing its execution; nor the reward due to those finished productions, till
by their own practical knowledge they are convinced of the frequent
failures of many excellent artists.

The professors of this art are principally divided into two classes,
namely those who speak to the eye, and those who apply to the mind
of the observer. The former comprehends a very large group, and
nearly the whole of the profession in every country of any single age in
Europe. Among them we may include the generality of portrait pain-
ters, painters of landscapes, and all those who endeavour to convey con-
ceptions to the spectator which are merely agreeable, but which do not
interest the passions: many of those, undoubtedly, possess considerable
merit, and may be ranked first in the style of decoration and embellish-
ment. But the latter class, who apply to the mind, and who, by their
artful delineation and colouring, convey those noble and profound sen-
timents possessed by themselves to the spectator, and who are more cap-
able of fixing the attention than dazzling the eye, are of the highest or-
der of artists.
That artist whose highest aim is to please, or astonish, the spectator,
by the variety and opposition of tints, and illusion of colours, must rest
satisfied with that secondary kind of fame, above which his merit will
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{
never exalt him. No higher praise is due to that assiduous genius, who
industriously groups together a great assemblage of objects in one piece,
in order to give animation to his work, and fix the attention of the ob-
server; whereas the general effects of such productions are confusion,
from the multiplicity of characters, and consequently disgust. For in
painting, as in poetry, it is only by adding sublimity to the sublime
objects of nature, that the artist can truly merit, or ever justly obtain,
those immortal wreaths which the nations of the world have unanimously
decreed to Homer, Virgil, Milton, Raphael, Michael Angelo, and the
statuary who modelled the ancient Apollo. So also, the poet who
clothes trivial, or common ideas in verse, is at best but a maker of
rhymes; while he, who delivers agreeable sentiments, and pleasing
thoughts, in round flowing numbers, is generally distinguished by the
appellation of a pleasing poet: but he who adorns great events, and
noble and sublime sentiments, with all the imagery of numbers, is a
great poet, and a successful painter of nature. He, and similar geniuses
only, whether they express their sentiments in verse, or in colours, on
brass, or on marble; whether painters, poets, or statuaries; deserve all
the respect due to superior minds. They are of the number of these
men whom nature, sparing of her best gifts, grants but occasionally to
their fellow-creatures, to improve and elevate, with more refined senti-
ments, the general race.
1
Painting, like all the other liberal arts, is reducible, in a great mea-
sure, to certain generally received rules and precepts. And though
these precepts, and perhaps all others that could be given, be alone
(that is, without some portion of genius) insufficient to produce a good
artist; yet they will almost at all times, prevent a man from being a
bad one. They are the reflections of the greatest masters, and conse-
quently demand the greatest attention. They point out those rocks
which the student should avoid; and are, therefore, indispensable to
his success. They facilitate his labours, and direct him in the shortest
and surest road to perfection. They refine his taste, teach him to dis-
cover the truly beautiful in nature or art, and strengthen and confirm
his judgment. It is art only, founded on just and proper rules, that is
capable of divesting nature of her wild and savage appearance, and be-
stowing on her that grace, elegance, dignity, and politeness, which ren-
der her the object of our admiration.
}
The principal object of all the polite arts is beauty, and their theory
consists of genius and taste.-Beauty is one of those terms of which we
more readily conceive the meaning, without any definition, than by the
most elaborate explanation. The more philosophers attempt to elucidate
the sense of the term, the more they envelope it in darkness, and that
in proportion to the different ideas men form of this quality, influenced
by the prejudices of custom, education, &c. It may, however, in ge-
neral, be affirmed, that beauty is the union of the various perfections of
which any object is susceptible, and which it actually possesses; and
that the perfections which produce beauty, consist principally in the
agreeable and delightful proportions which subsist between the several
parts of the same object; between each part and the whole together;
and between the several parts, and the end or design of the object to
which they belong. This general definition of beauty will always be
found to hold good, in every object in which it can be found, notwith-.
standing several inferior requisites concur to its production. Genius,
J
}
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by some confounded with invention, is that faculty of the mind by
which alone beauty can be produced. Taste, or disposition, is no more
than a natural sensation of the mind, refined by art. It serves to direct
genius in discerning what is beautiful, and in producing beauty of every
kind. Thus it appears, that the general theory of the polite arts is no-
thing more than the power of discovering what is truly beautiful. The
man in possession of this theory is susceptible of all the enchanting
power of the polite arts, whose force consisting in expression, applies
to the mind through the organs of hearing, as well as those of sight.
He is equally charmed with the melody of numbers, the harmony of
sound, the productions of the pen, the pencil, the chissel, or the graver.
new.
The first general rule necessary to every follower of the polite arts is
to consult his own genius; to divest himself of all self-love and partiality
for his own merit, and carefully to examine whether he possess those
properties indispensable to his success; the principal of which is, a live-
ly and happy imagination; or, in other words, that inventive faculty of
the mind which gives him a facility in always discovering something
This assertion may sometimes damp the hopes of the young stu-
dent, seeing so much has been done in every part of art by his prede-
çessors. There have been many authors, in each of the polite arts, who
may seem to have exhausted all the stores of imagination, and have left
no materials for novelty or invention; yet there is, perhaps, as much
opportunity for the exercise of imagination now, as in the first dawnings
of science. And though the fine arts, in their imitations of nature, can
borrow images, figures, and comparisons, from those things only that
exist and are known, nature is ever changing, and presents to an atten-
tive observer an infinite variety of scenes. New situations of characters
may present themselves to the artist's mind: new events take place,
both in civil and domestic history; former occurrences may also be
rehandled with more success: figures may be grouped in an original and
more pleasing manner: the different passions may be more strongly ex-
pressed, and the graces more pleasingly described, by one artist than by
another. This power of invention consists in the ingenious use of com-
bination; by which any of the various objects of nature are brought to-
gether, disposed, and contrasted in such a manner as to form a whole,
which is altogether new, happy, and agreeable; which surprises as well
as pleases; in which we find a harmony, a perfection, a thought, an
expression, quite unexpected, that we could not foresee, nor hope to find,
in the manner the artist has so happily placed it.
In the examination of his powers the student should, however, be
careful against passing too hasty a verdict on his own demerits: genius
is, however, no more than an apt judgment combined with a facility of
arranging disposing and uniting suitable objects, in a manner novel
pleasing and conforming to the principles of taste. This faculty is of
ten the possession of the student, though he himself be ignorant of his
powers. And still more frequently does it lie dormant in his breast,
till the latent quality is brought forth by reviewing and endeavouring to
imitate the excellence of others.
Secondly; Every artist should incessantly endeavour to improve his
taste; or to acquire that sensible refined and clear discernment, which
will enable him to distinguish the real beauties in each object, the orna-
ments that are agreeable to it, the proportions and relations that subsist
among the several parts, and every other requisite that concurs to the
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production of a finished piece. This practice will regulate and as-
sist his natural talents. But, to attain his excellence, he must be ac
quainted with the opinions and reflections of the greatest masters, ofr
every material part. He must constantly and assiduously study the
great models of beauty, immediately connected with his pursuits; and
finally, make his own observations on the properties of all those objects
which relate to his art.
The third general rule is, to imitate nature. Every object in the uni-
verse has its peculiar nature, which the artist should always imitate in
a proper manner. The most profuse ornaments and brilliant strokes,
without a due attention to this great model, will never render his work
perfect. This rule, though so obvious and necessary, has been too much
neglected even by those who are justly considered as the founders of
their respective arts. The sublime Homer has sinned against this pre-
cept, by representing his deities (who are supposed to be of a more re-
fined and superior nature than mankind) vicious and depraved, vulgar
and ridiculous, and that to a degree which would be unpardonable in a
frail human being. This is a gross violation of this fundamental rule;
others there are, easily committed, and less readily detected. It was not
natural to make a hero, at the most critical moment of a decisive battle,
deliver a long tedious harangue, which could not be heard by the thou-
sandth part of a numerous army. These two instances of the violation
of this rule, by the father and prince of poets, are noticed to show the
student the danger of neglecting this direction. Numberless are the of-
fences of this nature committed by artists, many of them eminent ones;
they are strewed over some of the greatest beauties of art. Neither is
this to be wondered at; for this imitation of nature, at first view so sím-
ple and easy, is of all things the most difficult in practice: it requires a
more than ordinary penetration, and a power of expression rarely to be
met with.
The fourth general rule is perspicuity. Nothing is more destructive
to beauty and elegance, in all the fine arts, than an obscure ambiguous
expression, encumbered with elaborate descriptions, and perplexed with
too much contrast: while, on the other hand, plainness and perspicuity
impart beauty to composition, of every kind, in each of the arts. Beauty
must also be evident and striking to the most ignorant, as well as to the
most learned; otherwise it ceases to be beauty: that beauty which re-
quires an explanation, is, at best, but a spurious kind, and neither de-
serves the artist's attention, nor will it merit general approbation. A
happy union of perspicuity, with a just imitation of nature, seldom fails
of attracting admiration: and though other requisites may be wanting,
those alone are sufficient at least to preserve a production of art from
oblivion.
.


art.
**
Elevation of sentiment forms the fifth general rule in the pursuit of
This enables us to express each object in the greatest perfection of
which it is susceptible; and thereby we imitate nature in her most ex-
alted beauty. The artist must always raise his mind above his subject,
to excite pleasure in others: he should choose the most favourable light
wherein to place it; embellishing it with the greatest, most noble, and
beautiful ornaments that His imagination can suggest, without departing
from the imitation of his great model, NATURE.

Sublimity may be considered as the next and last general rule of art.
It arise from the junction of the greatest perspicuty with the most ex-
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alted sentiment. The most common subjects are as susceptible of being
rendered sublime, according to their nature, as the most elevated ones.
A poem, prose composition, or painting, are equally capable of sublimi-
ty. Truth also forms a principal part of the sublime. Every follower
of the liberal arts should constantly aim at the attainment of this ex-
alted excellence. Every thing that is low, unbecoming, or disagreeable,
is naturally repugnant to this refined principle, which is founded only
in what is strictly true, elevated, and perspicuous.

Of all the researches of man into the records of antiquity, that
which concerns the origin of art has attracted the greatest attention.
The more pleasure we receive from any refined invention, the more
are we solicitous to discover to whom we are indebted for our en-
tertainment. The ancients with a laudable gratitude, deified those be-
nefactors to the human race, who, by their discoveries of useful or polite
arts, had contributed to our convenience amusement or delight. The
moderns, equally sensible of the same benefits, more rationally investigate
the causes which led to those discoveries, the assistance those early artists
received from nature, and the diffiulties they met with in their arduous
endeavours; and thereby are enabled to draw a just comparison between
the original inventor, and the most finished improver of an art, assigning
'to each his due share of merit.
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The origin of most of the useful arts is undoubtedly nearly coeval with
that of the human race. The erection of habitations, the preparation of
food and clothing, even in their original simplicity, require some mechani-
cal abilities, and experimental knowledge; and from their operations, and
the utensils indispensibly requisite in their preparation, an infinite num-
ber of arts took their rise. Among those termed liberal and polite, many
are of such high antiquity as to elude the inquiries of the most diligent
antiquarians. Several have, as it were, crept into existence, without
any known inventor, and made a gradual and imperceptible advance to-
wards perfection, before they attracted the notice of the industrious his-
torian. Painting, (or, in its most early stage, simply drawing,) falls
under the latter class. The first idea of the art must, no doubt, have
been formed by man, at a very early period: the shadow of objects,
whether plants, trees, or animals, afforded him the means of conceiv-
ing, and dictated to him the possibility of representing bodies of a
similar nature, upon a plain surface. Many of the most savage nations
possess the first rudiments of the art prior to those which are more
useful and necessary to existence. They stain their naked bodies with
indelible colours, in the forms of animals, stars, &c. This seems to have
been the first occasion man had for this art. He soon after made it sub-
servient to civil purposes. It offered a more simple and intelligible me-
thod of recording historical events and warlike exploits, than that
through the circuitous medium of alphabets of arbitrary characters, in-
vented long aftewards. The hieroglyphics of ancient Egypt, and in
latter days the picturesque writing of the Mexicans, answer this pur-
I
pose.

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The master-pieces of the art, in the earlier stages of its history, were
not superior to the essays of children: it was not till after many years
that they thought of rendering their imitation more complete, by the
addition of different colours. This improvement was no more than the
laying on of the simple colours, without any shade, in the same manner
as maps are stained at the present day. Many nations, as the Egyptians,
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Chinese, and several countries in India, rested satisfied with this state of
the art, thinking they had brought it to perfection, and consequently
never attempted any further improvement. More ingenious and refined
countries, however, attended to the appearances of nature, and invented
light and shade.
Egypt was the first country in which, we are informed, the imitative
arts met with any encouragement. Plato, who lived four hundred years
before the christian era, informs us that painting had been practised in
Egypt for ten thousand years; that some of the productions of that high
antiquity were then in existence: and that they exactly resembled those
which the Egyptians executed in his time. By ten thouand years, our
author, no doubt, intended a long indeterminate period. Without di-
gressing into the different interpretations which have been given to this
term, it is sufficient to show us the great antiquity of the art in Egypt,
even in the days of Plato, as far as the impostures of the Egyptian priests
deserve notice.
From what remains we possess of Egyptian painting, (the chests of
mummies) we may at once perceive the rude state of the art, beyond
which it never arrived in that couutry. Their only model was these
mummies, from which also they derived their skill in anatomy; conse-
quently their representation of the human form is ridiculous in the ex-
treme. The general figure is stiff, the legs drawn together, and the
arms pasted close to the sides. The face is still more distorted, the out-
line of which is nearly a complete circle, the chin short and rounded,
the cheeks excessively so: The corners of the mouth and eyes turned
upwards, and the ears placed much higher than the nose. Notwith-
standing the proportions of the Egyptian artists have been extolled by
some, who imagine the ancients can do nothing amiss it must be con
fessed, that they observe no proportions but the length. The breadths
of their figures, as well as that of the muscles, are very erroneous. With
regard to those monstrous objects we find in their works, namely, the
bodies of animals with the heads of men, and the bodies of men with
heads of animals, they were objects of divine worship, the figures of
which were to correspond with the fables of their religion. It appears
that they used but four colours, namely, blue, red, yellow, and green,
which were laid on without any mixture, and without any shadings.
The red and blue prevail most. They seem to have been formed of the
coarsest materials, and with very little trouble. The outline of the fi-
gure was traced with black strokes; and the lights formed by leaving
the parts covered with white lead, as is done by the white paper in
some of our drawings. The ground on which they painted, was, in ge-
neral, their earthen vessels, and drinking cups: they also ornamented
their barges, and covered with figures the chests of mummies. It was
but seldom they painted on cloth.
The ancient Persians were so ignorant of the arts, as to set a very high
value upon the childish productions of the Egyptians, even after the
Egyptians had become their captives. It has, however, been asserted,
that the ancient Persians, as well as the Arabians, had some knowledge
of Mosaic work. But as the principal merit of this work consists in
copying the paintings of a great master, in a manner that cannot be de-
stroyed, it is hardly to be thought that the means for the perpetuation
of the art had attracted greater notice, and risen to higher excellence,
than the art itself.
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The modern Persians paint on cloth, as do also their rivals in this
particular, the Indians. But the chief merit of the works of both these
people consists in the strength and brightness of their colours. Their
figures are purely capricious: they represent plants and flowers which
have no existence in nature: and, like the ancient Egyptians, they con-
fine the art mostly to the fabulous deities of their religion; namely, ani-
mals of their own creation, and monstrous idols with a multitude of arms
and heads. It must be admitted that their artists discover a great de-
gree of patience, united with a singular delicacy of the pencil. Some
of the idols also, in Thibet, are executed in a certain stile of relief; but
these praises are all that can be bestowed upon the rationale of their
practice. Their figures are all destitute of beauty, and in common with
many of the eastern nations, are quite deficient in style.
The Chinese seem to partake of the general poverty of the eastern
countries, in their attempts in the fine arts, as is evident from the speci
mens on their porcelane ware; and travellers assure us, that their best
works on the canvas, and on paper, are in no wise superior. They have
not the least conception of perspective. Their landscapes appear des
titute of any plan: in their clouds there is not the least variety of ap-
pearance. They discover no knowledge of forms in their human figures,
no idea of proportion, and no expression of the most conspicuous mus-
cles. A total ignorance of anatomy pervades all their works: and, like
the other eastern nations, a few simple strokes serve them to express all
their variety of figures. In a word, their principal object seems to con-
sist in making their figures as unlike nature as possible. They are seri-
ous caricatures of the human figure. The beauty and durability of their
colours, for which their works are often admired, are more the merit of
their climate than of the artist.

The inhabitants of Etruria, now called Tuscony, were the first who
improved the arts by the study of nature. In the days of Pliny the
Etrurian painters were held in high esteem. Some paintings of these
people, found in the tombs of the Tarquins, still remain. They consist
of long painted frizes and pilasters, adorned with huge figures, which
occupy the whole space from the base to the cornice. They are exe-
cuted on a ground of thick mortar, and many of them are in high pre-
servation.

ner.
Campania, at a very early period, received the rudiments of the fine
arts from some colonies of Greeks, established at Naples and Nola. We
have still remaining two medals, one containing the head of a young
Hercules, and the other that of a Jupiter, executed in a masterly man-
The Campanians frequently painted on vases; the learned anti-
quarian, Winckelman, observes, "There have been discovered a great
number of Campanian vases covered with paintings. The design of the
greatest part of these vases is such that the figures might occupy a dis-
tinguished place in a work of Raphael. Those vases, when we consider
that this kind of work admits of no correction, and that the stroke which
forms the outline must remain as it is originally traced, are wonderful
proofs of the perfection of the art among the ancients."
The first painter of any eminence in Greece, of whom historians have
made mention, was Polygnotus of Thasos. He lived about 420 years be-
fore the christian era. Pliny informs us that he was the first who introduced
drapery in his female figures. He also used different colours to the va-
rious paris of the dress; and was the first who ventured to draw the
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mouths of his figures open, in such a manner as to shew their teeth. But
it is certain that painting in dry colours was practised as early as the siege
of Troy, or at least when Homer wrote the account of it; for in the
Iliad Helen is represented as working on tapestry the figures of the nu-
merous combats of which she had been the occasion. The buckler of
Achilles also evidences their skill in that kind of sculpture called the
basso-relievo. The art, however, may still be considered to have con-
tinued in its infant state till the succeeding age, which produced Zeuxis
and Parrhasius, who were the first who added grace to the other excel-
lencies. In the contest between these rival artists, Zeuxis resigned the
palm of victory to Parrhasius, because, in a cluster of grapes he had
painted, he deceived the birds who pecked at them; whereas Parrhasius,
in a curtain which he had executed, and which seemed to conceal a pic-
ture, had deceived his rival Zeuxis, who attempted to draw it aside.
The principal works of Zeuxis were his Penelope, in which, according
to Pliny, he appears to express the manners of that princess; a Jupiter,
surrounded by the gods; a Hercules, strangling the serpents in the pre-
sence of Amphitryon and Alcmene; an Helen and a Marsyas bound.
From this list, and the fame these works acquired, it is evident the
higher principles of the art were at that time begun to be studied. But
Apelles, Protogenes, and Euphranor, carried it to the greatest perfec-
tion.
The Romans cultivated the fine arts, and raised statues to their kings,
at the time when the arts were in their infancy in Greece. In the year
of Rome 259 or 494 years before the christian era, Appius Claudius con-
secrated a number of shields in the temple of Bellona, which contained
in basso-relievo, the portraits of his family. The exection of this work
evidences that they understood painting, at least in one colour. But it
is generally believed they employed the artists of Etruria and other na-
tions. The first of their own country who excelled in the art was one
of the Fabii, surnamed Pictor, the Painter, from his adopting the art of
painting for his profession: he painted a temple in the year of Rome
450: and his works remained till the temple was destroyed by fire.
Near a century and a half elapsed before the art found another cultiva-
tor in Rome, when Pacauvius, nephew of Ennius, painted the temple of
Hercules in the Forum Boarium. But a true respect for the arts, and
the desire of improving them, did not appear in Rome till the time of
the emperors. The national spirit was then become somewhat changed,
and the views of the people more disinterested. The first painting on
cloth, among the Romans, was a colossal picture of 120 feet in height,
painted by the command of the emperor Nero, concerning the merits of
which authors are by no means agreed.
With the decline of the Roman empire, and the consequent fall of
every art and science, the fine arts partook of the general torpidity.
And painting, in particular, met with no real improvement in Europe
till the beginning of the fourteenth century of the christian era. The
first attempts in the modern history of the art were made in Italy; but
there the artist was employed in representing the mysteries of the
passion, and subjects of a similar nature, on the walls of churches and
chapels. Their works were directed to a vast number of figures rather
than to the beauty and perfection of each; and in our time the art has
scarcely shaken off this absurd fault contracted at that early period. The
modern artist (unlike the ancient Grecian) is not generally at liberty to
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devote his talents to men of knowledge and discernment only, he is
constrained to please those who are rich, and very often those who are
ignorant. Instead of aiming at perfection in his art, his character, if
not his existence, is connected with the caprice of his employer, or of
an absurd prevailing taste.
The first considerable improvement made in the modern history of
painting was that effected by an attention to the rules of perspective,
which had too long been slighted: and Dominico Ghirlandajo, a
Florentine, about the same time, greatly enriched composition by his
then superior style of beauty in his figures: but his successors far ex-
celled him in that respect.
The subsequent history of this art consists in an enumeration of the
principal merits of some of the most eminent masters who have con-
tributed their share of knowledge to the general fund. It is not pos-
sible, within confined limits, to give the particulars of the modern
history of an art which possesses so many excellencies, and towards
which the labours of so many have been directed: a relation of the prin-
cipal qualities must therefore here be sufficient.
Towards the end of the fourteenth century appeared greater lumi-
naries in painting than the art has ever since witnessed; and (consi-
dering its low state at that period,) geniusses who made greater im-
provements than could reasonably be expected; namely, Leonardo da
Vinci, Michael Angelo, Giorgione, Titian, Bartholemeo de St. Marc,
and Raphael. Leonardo da Vinci invented a great many details in the
art, too numerous to find a place here. Michael Angelo, by his great
skill in anatomy, and attentive study of the ancients, arrived to a
greater excellency and elegance, in drawing the outlines of his figures,
than any of his predecessors; and left examples to excite the admira-
tion of his followers. Giorgione greatly enriched the general practice
of the art by his easy and graceful manner, and by the brilliancy of
his colours. Titian may be said to have perfected the truth of nature,
and the tone of painting, by his strict adherence to the hues and general
appearance of natural objects. Bartholemeo de St. Marc discovered the
chiaro oscuro. He particularly studied drapery, and possessed the
singular power of shewing the naked figure under the cloathing.
Raphael, endowed with a superior genius, united in himself the va-
rious excellencies of both his predecessors and contemporaries: but his
chief merit, and that in which he is still unrivalled, was a most happy
power of invention and composition. To these eminent artists, shortly
after succeeded Corregio, who, like the Apelles of Greece, carried the
art to the greatest degree of perfection; and by that grace and beauty
he conferred on his works, rendered his paintings the object of uni-
versal admiration. The illiterate stood astonished at his productions,
and the churlish critic allowed them to exceed his dry rules.
From a strict attention to the works of Corregio, were produced the
Carracci, at Bologna: the pupils of these artists formed themselves into
a school, among whom Guido rendered himself particularly eminent
for his graceful rich and easy style. Pietri di Cortona applied him-
self to composition, and distinguished it from invention. He, however,
applied himself too asiduously to the contrasting of his groups; and in-
troduced that absurd practice of loading his pieces with a great number
of figures..
The seventeenth century gave birth to a Carlo Maratti, who was the

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first who ventured to depart from a servile imitation of natural objects;
but, like Cortona, he has offended taste by the great number of figures
he introduced into his pieces.
.
From this short account it appears that the above-named great im-
provers of the art, following the manner of the ancients, and taking na-
ture for their guide, carried every part of their profession to the highest
degree of excellence. But their followers greatly degenerated from their
laudable practice, and thus deranged the art, instead of further improv-
ing it, by availing themselves of the many excellent examples they pos-
sessed. It must be confessed, the Carracci, Paul Veronese and his con-
temporaries, Vandyke, and in general the Italian, Flemish, and French
masters, supported it even after the seventeenth century with great
brilliancy: but when the number of artists was increased, the practice
of servile copying became general; and the confined ambition of aiming
at one particular excellence, to the neglect of all the rest.
Some con-
sidered the chief merit of the art to consist in colouring, and thus pro-
duced pieces of the greatest exaggeration; while others affecting sim-
plicity, became cold and insipid. Men of real abilities, in endeavouring
to avoid the other popular errors, departed from the road of truth and
nature. They affected a pompous style, and endeavoured to attain
what was then styled an expert management of the pencil, which may
be seen in the fantastical attitudes, poignant effects, and other ingenious
but vicious contrivances of certain French masters, since the days of Le
Brun.

Among the numerous causes which have conspired towards the de-
cline of painting, may be observed the following in particular:-It has
been customary of late for the patrons and propagators of the art to be
more assiduous in increasing the number of artists, than in singling out
those who are by nature best adapted to the work. Schools for the
qualification of a painter, very different from those formed by able mas-
ters of the art, have been greatly multiplied, where the elements are
given in a dry uniform system of rules, by which the mind is shackled
with many needless precepts, and the hand crampt by a slavish atten-
tion to them. By this method painters of inferior merit are produced,
and that in such numbers as even to threaten the utter downfal of the
art. The great reputation of the Italian painters has also contributed to
the decline of painting. The rich and ignorant of all nations, desirous
of being thought to possess taste, have earnestly sought for Italian pieces
which they thought could not be too dearly purchased. Numbers,
therefore, applied themselves to the manner of the Italian school, con-
sidering it as the best model for imitation, and the only medium for the
attainment of profit and fame; and this still farther increased the num-
ber of secondary professors, without adding a single improvement to
the subject. An arbitrary despotism, which has also reigned in the aca-
demic societies, has contributed not a little towards this evil. They
have generally been governed by men who would direct the student's
attention to one single object only. Every excellence of the art was to
be neglected for the pursuit of one peculiar beauty. As an illustration
of this may be mentioned the absolute and unexceptionable manner in
which the governors of those societies proposed to their disciples the
unremitted study of design, in exclusion of every other grace, while sta-
tuary was held in chief estimation. The artist, whose abilities and in-
clination led him to colouring was, consequently, obliged to abandon
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a subject, for the pursuit of which he could expect no reward, and ap-
ply himself to that for which nature and his own previous application
had not qualified him: while on the other hand, he, devoted to the
choice of exactness of forms, who was so unfortunate as to be a pupil of
that preceptor who preferred colouring, found himself in a still greater
dilemma than the former, considered his own incompetence in that par-
ticular branch as the want of genius, and was thus, perhaps, for ever
lost to the art.
The Practice of the Schools.
All the painters of Europe, since the revival of the art, are divided
into different classes, called Schools, each of which have learnt the prin-
ciples of the art from a certain master, or else followed his manner; and
have, consequently, each their peculiar characteristics. They compose
the following: viz.-1. The Florentine School.-2. The Roman
School.-3. The Venetian School.-4. The Lombard School.-5.
The French School.-6. The German School.-7. The Flemish
School.-8. The Dutch School.-And 9. The English School.
The Florentine School has an undoubted title to our preference, as
being the first in Italy that cultivated the arts. It was founded by
Cimabue, the descendant of a noble family of Florence. He was born
in the the year 1240. He was the first who translated what little re-
mained of the art, from one or two Greek artists, into his own country.
And though his works were (as might naturally be expected) in an or-
dinary style, they received the applause and approbation of his fellow-
citizens. His success soon excited emulation; and the art had so many
followers, that in the year 1350, they formed themselves into a society,
under the protection of St. Luke. Early in the fifteenth century, Mas-
solina arose.
He was a considerable addition to this school. He taught
them how to impart grandeur and sublimity to their figures, to drape
them gracefully, and to give them more life and expression than they
had hitherto done. Massacio, his pupil, succeeded him he was the
first who, to the other qualifications this school possessed, added force
animation and relievo to his figures. But the glory of this class, and
the boast of all succeeding artists, were Michael Angelo, and Leonardo
da Vinci, contemporary painters. Michael Angelo was undoubtedly
superior to Leonardo in grandeur and sublimity; in that boldness of
conception which conceives, and successfully executes, the most dif-
ficult subjects; and in a perfect knowledge and practice of design:
but Leonardo was more successful in expressing the softer passions, rais-
ing agreeable sensations, and in a word, in all the amiable parts of the
art: in these expressions he was surpassed by Raphael only. His
works also were not altogether void of greatness: he made a very
happy choice of his objects for imitation: his design was chaste, and
often elegant; and he never went beyond nature.
But that great luminary of the art, Michael Angelo, sought rather
the great and terrible than the pleasing and graceful.
His perfect
skill in anatomy enabled him, more than any other artist, to express
exactly the joinings of the bones of the human body, and the office
and insertion of each muscle. An ingenious connoisseur [Mengs]
informs us, that" in his figures the articulations of the muscles are so
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easy and fine, that they appear to be made for the attitude in which
he represents them. But the fleshy parts are too much rounded, and
the muscles are, in general, too large, and of too equal strength. You
never perceive, in his figures, a muscle at rést; and though he knew
admirably well how to place them, their action was very frequently in-
consistent with their situation." This critique, though somewhat se-
vere, is in general just, for whoever examines his pieces will observe
too apparent a display of the muscles, particularly in his children wo-
men and young men, where they should be considerably more softened
than in the vigour of manhood. From one of his own records we
learn, that he first modelled, in earth or wax, all the figures he intend-
ed to paint. This was the general practice in his time, and is un-
doubtedly very commendable, as the artist has an opportunity of view-
ing them in relievo. Sir Joshua Reynolds observes of this great man,
"If any man had a right to look down upon the lower accomplishments
as beneath his notice, it was certainly Michael Angelo; nor can it be
thought strange that such a mind should have slighted or have been
withheld from paying due attention to all those graces and embellish-
ments of art, which had diffused such lustre over the works of other
painters."


From this account of the principal founders of this school, it is not
difficult to discover wherein the principal merit of this class of artists
consists. Their first and principal characteristic is greatness: their
figures are animated, and seemingly in motion; a certain gloomy se-
verity, and an expression of strength, by which grace is in a great
measure excluded, pervade all their works; they possess a certain gi-
gantic character of design, an appearance of majesty, bordering upon
the divine, which seem to elevate human nature above mortality; and
also, like their great master, they seem to consider the art of pleasing
as undeserving their attention.
The Roman school may be considered as a production from the
ruins of the art in Greece. It undoubtedly received the first rudi-
ments from the works, or the artists, of that ancient enlightened na-
tion. From the Greek statues they derived their knowledge of de-
sign, the beauty of exquisite forms, greatness of style, and justness
of expression. They also improved upon the drapery of the Grecian
artists, by making it more full and flowing than can be done in
sculpture. This school was devoted to the principal parts of the art,
namely, the effects of genius and vast conception; paying no more
attention to colouring than was necessary to distinguish a painting,
varied with colours, from the chiaro oscuro.
The founder of this school was the great Raffaelle, or Raphael Sanzio.
He was born at Urbino, in the year 1488. He was pupil to Pietro
Perugino, whose manner he first copied, but which he soon after laid
aside for the imitation of nature only. He travelled twice to Florence
to study the great artists who flourished in that city. It has been ob-
served, that it was fortunate for him that he was born in the infancy of
the art, and that he had formed his own manner, by attending to na-
ture, before he had access to the works of any great master.
He began
by studying, with great exactness, the simple truth in his figures: he
was at that time ignorant that any choice was necessary; but when he
saw the works of Leonardo da Vinci, Massacio, and Michael Angelo,
his genius took a new turn. He perceived, for the first time, that,
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in order to excel in the art, something more was necessary than a
simple imitation of truth. Sir Joshua Reynolds observes, that had it
not been for Michael Angelo we should never have had Raphael.
The works of those Florentine masters were, however, not sufficient
to direct him fully in his choice. He resolved to travel to Rome,
where he was in hopes to meet with those perfect models he so much
wanted. On his arrival in that city he was not disappointed in the
high expectation he had formed: he imitated those incomparable models,
and in so doing he most effectually succeeded, and found he only fol-
lowed the natural impulse of his own genius.
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As he was always habituated to the imitation of nature, he found no
difficulty in following the manner of the ancient Greeks, who taught
him only the method of copying her with precision. He quickly dis-
covered that those great artists did not enter into minute details; that
they selected what was great and beautiful only; that they strictly ad-
hered to proportions; that they paid particular attention to the joining
of the bones, and giving a free articulation to the various parts of their
figures. On imitating these excellencies, every one who has seen his
works can judge how far he succeeded. He is justly considered as the
great master of design, though it must at the same time be acknowledged,
that in this part he was not so perfect, nor so finished, as the Grecians.
This arose from his first imitating the basso relievos at Rome, which
gave a certain hardness to his works: for we see more of the Roman
than the Grecian in his design; the bones and articulations are strongly
marked, and the fleshy parts less laboured; his proportions, however,
are all very accurate. He excelled in representing grave and moral
characters, as philosophers, apostles, &c. but he did not so well succeed
(at least not equally with the Greeks) in ideal figures, which ought to
carry with them an air of divinity. It is true, he seldom had occasion
to represent such figures; the spirit and manners of his age forbade it;
and the subjects he treated of did not require it. He thought it more
requisite to attend to expression. In an art which represents the actions
of men, the passions of the soul ought to be fully pourtrayed, as being
the chief causes of those actions. His chief attention, therefore, in
composing a piece, was to consider carefully the expressions of the pas-
sions which animated the different characters: and next, to mould all
the figures, all the accessories, and all the parts of the composition, to
the general expression of the whole.
In the chiaro oscuro he was comparatively weak; and what he pos-
sessed peculiar in the distribution of his light and shade he owed to the
Florentine painters. It must not be inferred, however, even with re-
gard to the chiaro oscuro, that he imitated nature without taste: he de-
lighted in what are called great masses of light; and disposed the great
lights in the most conspicuous places of his figures, whether naked or
in drapery. Though this method is not very favourable to illusion, it
gives his pieces distinctness, and makes his figures conspicuous at a
distance, which is a very essential part of the art. His chief excellencies
were composition, and the ensemble of his figures. He considered the
art as designed to speak to the soul of the observer; and his philoso-
phical mind refused to delineate objects that had nó expression. Of
the two principal kinds of composition, namely, the expressive, and the
theatrical or picturesque, Raphael chose the former. Mengs observes,
"He never indulged himself in common ideas, and was never allured

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to give any thing in his accessory figures which might turn the atten-
tion from the principal object of the piece."
Sir Joshua Reynolds, in contrasting the merits of Raphael and
Michael Angelo, observes, " If we put these great artists in a light of
comparison with each other, Raphael had more taste and fancy, Michael
Angelo more genius and imagination. The one excelled in beauty, the
other in energy. Michael Angelo has more of the poetical in opera-
tion;
his ideas are vast and sublime; his people are a superior order
of beings; there is nothing about them, nothing in the air of their
actions, or their attitudes, or the style and cast of their limbs or fea-
tures, that puts one in mind of their belonging to our species. Raphael's
imagination is not so elevated, his figures are not so much disjointed
from our own diminutive race of beings, though his ideas are chaste,
noble, and of great conformity to their subjects. Michael Angelo's
works have a strong, peculiar, and marked character; they seem to
proceed from his own mind entirely; and that mind so rich and abun-
dant, that he never needed, or seemed to disdain to look abroad for
foreign help. Raphael's materials are generally borrowed, though the
noble structure is his own. The excellency of this extraordinary man
lay in the propriety, beauty, and majesty of his characters; his judi-
cious contrivance of composition, correctness of drawing, purity of
taste, and the skilful accommodation of other men's conceptions to his
own purpose."
The Venetian school is of an inferior class, and distinguished only
for a certain splendour of style, but at the same time destitute of the
truly great style. These artists, denied the privilege those of the Ro-
man school possessed, namely, that of studying the precious remains
of antiquity, and thereby acquiring just ideas of the beauty of form
and expression, attended to colour, a pompous display of figures, a
profusion and variety of drapery, and a certain tumultuous bustle,
which they falsely considered to be animation. They were chiefly
delighted with the beauties of the mixture and variety of natural co-
lours, in which they succeeded. They not only characterized the ob-
jects by comparison, in making the colours proper for one of more value
by the colour more proper for another; but they also, by the agree-
ment and opposition of coloured objects, and by the contrast of light
and shade, produced a vigorous effect, which at once demands and
fixes the attention. The founders of this school are Giorgione and Ti-
tian. The former, dying in the 32d year of his age, was soon for-
gotten in the superior works of his contemporary and rival Titian, who
improved upon his idea of colouring, and soon exceeded that servile
manner of copying nature, into which he had been initiated. Few
need be told that the excellency of Titian consisted in colouring. And,
like the other artists of the same school, he paid little or no attention
to historical truth, even in those pieces where it is expected.
It must, however, be acknowledged, that he is not destitute of great
and noble conceptions. In his male figures he often discovers a con-
siderable degree of grandeur: like Michael Angelo, he has sometimes
overcharged his design, but it is chiefly in the soft and fleshy parts:
and seldom does he err on the side of vigour and muscular strength.

*

As his principal object was simple imitation, in a display of the co-
lours of nature, he neglected both the chiaro oscuro and justness of de-
sign. It is to the success of his imitation of colours that his defect in
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the chiaro oscuro is owing: it is, therefore, not for these perfections that
we are to seek in his works. His excellencies consist in the happy
disposition of colours, both local and proper, and which he carries to
the highest pitch of perfection, beyond any of his predecessors or fol-
lowers. His practice was to paint in oil, and to finish his work from
the objects in nature; which, joined to his superior talents in this
branch of the art, gave a greater degree of truth to his colours than is
to be found in the productions of the artists of the Roman and Flo-
rentine schools, who painted most commonly in water colours, or in
fresco, and finished their works from their first sketches. His practice
also, as a painter of portraits and landscapes, tended, in a great measure,
to qualify him in colouring: by the former he was accustomed to the
colours of nature and draperies individually, and the latter taught him
the general rules of nature in the gross.
"As Titian perceived," says Mengs, "that the objects which are
beautiful in nature have often a bad effect in painting, he found it ne-
cessary to make a choice in the objects of imitation; and he observed
that these were objects of which the local colours were extremely beau-
tiful; which, nevertheless, were, in a great measure, destroyed by the
reflexion of light, by the porosity of the body, and by different luminous
tints, &c. He perceived also, that in every object there was an infinite
number of half tints, which conduced to the knowledge of harmony. In
short, he observed in the objects of nature a particular agreement of trans-
parency, of opacity, of rudeness, and of polish, and that all objects dif-
fered in the degrees of their tints and their shades. It was in this di-
versity he sought the perfection of his art; and in the execution he mo-
derated the effect of natural colours. For example, in a carnation,
which had many demi-tints, he confined himself to one; and he em-
ployed even less than a demi-tint, where there were few in the natural
object. By these means he obtained a colouring exquisitely fine; and in
this part he was a great master, and deserves to be carefully studied."


On the closest examination of the works of Titian it is impossible to
say with what colours he produced his tints, the colours are so mingled
together; which distinguishes his works from those of Rubens, who
placed his colours one at the side of another. This practice of Titian
enabled him so exactly to imitate the colours of nature; and gives a
marked distinction to his works, whereby they are readily known
by every connoisseur. Titian's landscapes present well-chosen situa-
tions; his trees are exquisitely varied in their forms, and their foliage
well conceived. He had also the faculty of rendering his landscapes
striking, by the introduction of some remarkable appearance.
Tintoret Paul Veronese and others of this school have uniformly
distinguished themselves by their skill in the mechanism of painting
only. They seem to have possessed no higher ambition than to succeed
in the inferior parts of the art; and assiduously endeavoured to display
those inferior qualities which the grand style teaches to conceive Paul
Veronese so far sacrificed all the rules of the art, in his picture of Per-
seus and Andromeda, as to represent the principal figure in shade, mere-
ly to shew the effect of light and shadow. Every rule is rejected to that
intent, and the capricious composition of that picture suited the style
which he professed.
The mechanical excellence attempted by the Venetian school has
been called the Language of Painting, in which these masters must be
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allowed to excel: but here, as in most other cases, they have displayed
more copiousness than choice, and more luxuriancy than judgment. If
we consider the uninteresting subjects of their invention, or, at least, the
uninteresting manner in which they are treated; if we attend to their
capricious compositions, their violent and affected contrasts, whether of
figures, or of light and shade; the richness of their drapery, and at the
same time the mean effect which the improper introduction of coarse
stuffs gives to their pictures; if to these we add their total inattention to
expression; and then reflect on the conceptions and the learning of
Michael Angelo, or the simplicity of Raphael, we can no longer dwell
on the comparison. Even in colouring, wherein their chief merit con-
sists, if we compare the quietnes and chastity of the Bolognese pencil to
the bustle and tumult that fills evey part of a Venetian picture, without
the least attempt to interest the passions, their boasted art will appear a
mere struggle, without effect.
The Venetians are no less unfortunate in the invention of their pieces.
Their subjects are generally such as admit a great number of figures,
namely, feasts, marriages, processions, public martyrdoms, or miracles.
They vainly conceive that a great variety of personages gave the painter
an opportunity of shewing his dexterity of managing and disposing the
masses of light and groups of figures, and of introducing a variety of
eastern dresses and characters in their rich draperies. Even in the ef-
fect of their colouring, as before observed, they are very often inferior
to the other Italian schools, as far as relates to the truly great style. It
has been justly observed, "That their colouring is not only too brilliant,
but too harmonious to produce that solidity, steadiness, and simplicity of
effect, which heroic subjects require, and which simple or grave colours
only can give to a work." Michael Angelo having seen a picture of
Titian, told Vasari who accompanied him, "that he liked much his
colouring and manner;" but added, "that it was a pity the Venetian
painters did not learn to draw correctly in their early youth, and adopt
a better manner of study." If this censure applied to a picture of Ti-
tian, with how much more weight would it fall on the works of Paul
Of Tintoret in par-
Veronese, Tintoret, and others of the same class.
ticular Vasari remarks, "of all the extraordinary geniuses that had
ever practised the art of painting, for wild, capricious, extravagant, and
fantastical inventions; for furious impetuosity and boldness in the exe-
cution of his work, there is none like Tintoret; his strange whimsies
are even beyond extravagance: and his works seem to be produced ra-
ther by chance than in consequence of any previous design, as if he
wanted to convince the world that the art was a trifle, and of the most
easy attainment.
.
""
The Lombard school was founded by Antonio Allegri, commonly
called Corregio, who was also the greatest ornament of this class of ar-
tists. The productions of this school are characterised by grace, a plea-
sant taste for design, a mellowness of pencil, and a beautiful mixture
and harmony of colouring. But at the same time it must be observed,
that the designs of the Lombard school are seldom correct; though
from the gracefulness of their figures, the richness of their colours, and
just gradations of shade, they generally produce an agreeable effect.
Corregio, in his imitations of nature, seemed to have principally in his
view, grace, grandeur, and harmony. To produce these he sedulously,
strove, in his outlines, to avoid all short turnings and unnecessary angles;
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and when the latter occurred, he endeavoured to make the lines which
formed them arched and undulated. He not only rejected all small fi-
gures, as inimical to grace, but made his other figures as large as possible,
and at the same time elegant, which, with his utter rejection of all acute
angles and strait lines, gave his pieces that inimitable degree of grace
for which they are still so much admired.
Z
As he painted in oil, he possessed an opportunity of giving a tone to
his pictures, and thereby creating in them grandeur of appearance. By
attention to natural objects he perceived that shades should be repre-
sented by transparent colours, without which obscurity in painting can
never be fully produced: for the rays of light being absorbed in the co-
lours give less reflection. He also increased his obscure shades, by a
method of glazing which he adopted, and skilfully managed,. His the-
ory of colours and light he founded on his observance of an immutable
law in nature. He laid his colours very thick on the brightest parts of
his picture, in order to make them capable of receiving, by a proper
touch of the pencil, the greatest degree of light; and he endeavoured to
produce that effect of nature, whereby the light reflected from coloured
bodies always corresponds with the colour of the body from which it is
reflected.
1
He early perceived that harmony and grace were inseparable. To
produce the former he constantly avoided strong oppositions, and vio-
lent contrasts. His pieces possess that easy gradation, from one ex-
treme to another, which is the principal characteristic of harmony. Be-
tween his lights and shades he always introduced a space, which served
at once to unite them, and to form an easy passage for the eye from
the one to the other. He also knew better than any other artist how
to relieve the eye after a violent exertion: he, therefore, after a bold
and prevailing colour, always placed a demi-tint. In a word, he
had a most delicate taste in colours, a perfect knowledge of the chiaro
oscuro, and excelled in that essential part of uniting two lights or two
shades. Many of his objects appear perfectly detached from the ground
of the piece; and, for inimitable grace and perfect harmony, he is dis-
tinguished from all others.
•
•
The student must, nevertheless, beware of this great man's defects,
and learn to distinguish between his real merit and his imperfections;
for, like all the most eminent in the fine arts, he was by no means in-
fallible in his outlines; notwithstanding his ease of design and taste in
that part, he was far from being always pure and correct. His shades
also deserve greater commendations bestowed upon them than the light
parts of his pictures, which are too clear and somewhat heavy. And
the fleshy parts of his subjects are not sufficiently transparent. These,
however, are but trifling imperfections; and more than sufficiently com-
pensated by the grace, grandeur, and harmony of his pieces,
Besides the foregoing class there is another society, known by the
name of The Second Lombard School; sometimes called, The School of
Bologna, It was founded by the three Carracci, namely, Lewis, Au-
gustin, and Annibal.
The two latter were the pupils of Lewis, who,
in his manner, endeavoured to imitate Corregio. Sir Joshua Reynolds
considers him as the best model for what is called style in painting:
"Lodovico Carracci (I mean in his best works)" says he, " appears
to me to approach the nearest to perfection; his unaffected breadth of
light and shadow, the simplicity of colouring, which, holding, its proper
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rank, does not draw aside the least part of the attention from the sub-
ject; and the solemn effect of that twilight, which seems diffused over
his pictures, appear to me to correspond with grave and dignified sub-
jects better than the more artificial brilliancy of sunshine, which en-
lightens the pictures of Titian." Lewis, it is true, had less. fire, but
more gracefulness and grandeur than the other. Augustin was a man
of an enlightened mind, and, consequently, refined taste. He cultivated
his understanding by his attention to the Belles Lettres, and devoted
part of his time to poetry and music; and at the same time to dancing,
riding, and other manly exercises. He possessed a great and vigorous
spirit, which he always displayed in his pictures; and discovers in them
a certain pleasantness of composition. Annibal, in his manner, appears
to have fluctuated between an imitation of Corregio and Titian; his
principal character is boldness, a profound and just design, a fortunate
expression, and sublimity of execution. In beauty and design he is al-
lowed, by some, to be a perfect model for imitation: but this praise is
somewhat too unlimited, and has been fatal to many artists, who, in
copying his manner, have often imitated his imperfections. It is true,
he was very successful in his figures of ancient statues, though, as must
naturally be perceived, he fell short of his originals, to which his imita-
tors should resort.
The French school, from the various manners of its artists, has no pe-
culiar character; some of its principal members have been formed on
the Florentine and Lombard manner, others on the Roman, others on
the Venetian, and a few have distinguished themselves by a manner
wbich may be called their own; consequently this school unites, in a
moderate degree, various different parts of the art; but does not excel
in any one of them.
Poussin, though anterior to the French school, was one of the great-
est painters of that country. His style and character are simplicity,
cheerfulness, purity, and correctness. His works have more the air of
antique painting than those of any other artist. His best performances
are remarkable for a dryness of manner, which (though it is not to be
imitated) perfectly corresponds with that ancient simplicity for which
his style is distinguished. But in the latter part of his life he adopted
a more soft and rich manner, and made the union between the figures
and the ground much more apparent. His favourite subjects were an-
cient fables, for which his knowledge of mythology and ancient history
perfectly qualified him. It was his fortune, however, and the fate of the
French school, that he was more admired than imitated, and had not
the least influence in forming the manners of the artists of that country.
This honour was reserved for Simon Vouet, the enemy and persecutor
of Poussin. Vouet, though a man of distinguished abilities, was very
incompetent to establish any manner of painting: and had this school,
then been founded, persevering upon his principles, its existence would
have been of very short duration. He had a kind of grandeur, joined
to such a facility, that it was said of him, he need only take the pencil
in his hand to finish, with one stroke, the subject he had conceived: but
his design was false with regard to colour, and his figures were wholly
destitute of expression. He, however, had the merit of destroying the
insipid manner which pervaded that nation, and of pointing out the
road to a better taste, which was pursued and brought to perfection by
Le Brun.
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*
This artist was the pupil of Vouet, whom, as well as his contem-
porary pupils, he astonished by his rapid progress. So early as at the age
of twenty-six he finished his piece called The Horses of Diomede, which
obtained a place in the Palais Royal, beside those of the most eminent
painters. He was recommended to Poussin; but the young artist was
more disposed to follow that modern part of the art, called The Great
Machine, than the remains of Greek antiquity. Poussin was, neverthe-
less, of great service to Le Brun. He pointed out to him the necessity
of obtaining some knowledge of the ancients; and directed him in his
study of their monuments, customs, dress, architecture, rites, specta-
cles, &c.
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2
Few artists have united so great a number of excellencies, many of
them essential qualities, as Le Brun. He added a great conception to a
most fertile imagination, to which his execution was mostly adequate :
but he chiefly excelled in exact likenesses, and a rigorous observance of
the costume. It is admitted, that he has many superiors, but their pre-
cedence consists in possessing some peculiar quality, in a more eminent
degree than a man of Le Brun's extensive acquaintance with the various
parts of the art could possibly obtain. He was an excellent drawer, and
in his design he imitated Annibal Carracci. In his draperies he follow-
ed the manner of the Roman school. He did not identify the particu-
lar sorts of clothing, like the Venetians; his draperies were general; they
were clothes and nothing more, which happily agreed with the heroic
style, From his treatise on the character of the passions we may per-
ceive that he had assiduously studied the expression of the affections of
the mind, in which (notwithstanding the deficiencies he has been charg
ed with in this subject) he has far excelled all others; and established
some general truths and leading principles, by which many, or most, of
the principal artists, since his days, have considerably profited; though,
as is too often the case, their envy at his success, in this then untrodden
path, will not permit them to allow him his due share of praise. His
chief attention was directed to great compositions, and no man was more
happily adapted to that mode of painting, nor possessed the power of
bestowing more life animation and variety on his pictures than Le
Brun. He had a most fertile imagination; and as he delighted in alle-
gory, he had the greatest scope for invention; and the great resources of
his mind appear very apparent in the introduction of symbols for his al-
legorical figures, not resting satisfied with those employed by the an-
cients. In colouring he surpassed the artists of the Venetian school,
aiming at the higher excellencies, and the more solid tone of colour dis-
played by the schools of Rome and Lombardy, whose manner he also
imitated, in his bold easy and agreeable management of the pencil.
Such are the perfections of this great artist of the French school: but
⚫ numerous excellencies are seldom without their proportionate number of
defects. His many followers, by an indiscriminate imitation of his va-
rious qualities, have considerably increased his failings, as well as cre-
ated more, all which have been magnified by the cold eye of criticism.
It is objected to his merits, that in design he was less eminent than Ra-
phael, less pure than Dominichitio, and less lively than Annibal Car-
His expressions of the passions have been censured as too con-
fined, and not displaying the prodigious variety of gradations, by which
the various interior affections are indicated in the countenance. To this
it may be answered; this subject is too infinitely varied in its appear-
racci.

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ance, and too much extended in its objects, ever to admit of a delinea-
tion by a human pencil. Le Brun has effected greater things in this
branch than any other artist; and those who are the most severe in their
animadversions have contributed the least to supply his deficiencies. If,
in his symbolical figures, he dealt somewhat in the fanciful, we must
consider it only as the exuberance of a luxuriant imagination, and indis-
solubly connected with the more rational part of his invention.
Contemporary with Le Brun was Eustache Le Sueur, the rival of Le Brun;
he added some degree of celebrity to the French School. He approached
nearer to Raphael than any other artist, not only in the art of drapery,
in placing his folds in the most easy and graceful manner, but also in
expressing the affections of the mind, in varying the air of the head ac-
cording to the condition age- and character of his personages, and in
making the different parts of every figure contribute to the general ef-
fect. His design also, like that of Raphael, was formed on the model of
the ancients, but was, in general, more slender than the designs of Ra-
phael. Contrary to the general practice of the French artists, he did
not endeavour to astonish the spectator by shining contrasts, beautiful
groups of figures, or the deceitful pomp of theatrical scenes. The tones
of his colours are delicate, and his tints harmonious; and though not so
attracting as those of the Venetians and Florentines, are yet engaging.
They delight the observer, without diverting his attention from the
more material parts.

·
The French school have reason to deplore the early loss of this artist,
who might otherwise have obtained influence sufficient to have founded
a new manner among that sect: the noble beauty of his heads, the sim-
ple majesty of his draperies, the correctness and airiness of his design,
the propriety and justness of his expression and attitudes, and the sim-
plicity of his general disposition, would, no doubt, have soon become the
object of imitation; and Paris might have attempted to rival Rome in
the productions to which such a manner must have necessarily given
birth. The justness of these remarks appears in some of the best pieces
of Le Sueur, namely, the twenty-two pictures he painted for the Car-
thusian monastery at Paris, his preaching of St. Paul, and the picture
which he painted at St. Gervais; the latter has, by many able critics,
been allowed to be equal to the best productions of the Roman school.
The German school is nothing more than a succession of single artists,
who derived their manner from different sources of originality and imi-
tation. The most early German painters were wholly unacquainted
with the works of the ancients, and had scarcely access to those of their
contemporaries in Italy: they, therefore, copied nature alone, somewhat
divested of that stiffness observed in the Gothic manner. But the Ger-
man artists of succeeding times were educated, some in Flanders and
others in Italy: their manner has consequently nothing peculiar by
which their works may be known. It is to the more ancient of this sect
we must advert for a decided character. The manner of these, as be-
fore observed, displays more of the Gothic style than appears in the
works of any other school. Albert Durer and John Holbein were the
two principal of that nation. The former was the first who corrected
the vitiated taste of his countrymen; he was a good engraver as well as
an excellent painter; and finished his numerous works with great ex-
actness. He possessed a fertile invention, a lively genius, an inexhausti-
ble fund of thought, and a brilliancy of colouring. He is, nevertheless,
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charged with stiffness in his outline, want of taste and grandeur in his
expression, a neglect of gradation in his colours, and an ignorance of
the costume of aerial perspective, though it must be acknowledged that
he had closely applied himself to lineal perspective architecture and for-
tification. Holbein, contemporary with Durer, painted both in oil and
water colours. He applied himself chiefly to portraits and historical
pieces, in both of which he acquired fame. All his works are highly
finished, and his colours are fresh and brilliant; but his draperies fall
far short of those of Albert Durer.
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The Flemish School possesses a conspicuous place in the history of
this art, by the discovery, or at least the first practice, of painting in oil,
by John Van Eyck, and his brother Hubert. This school is remark-
able for its great brilliancy of colours, and a most enchanting display of
the chiaro oscuro. In its design also we observe truth and justice,
though the forms be not the most beautiful: it possesses a grandeur of
composition, a certain air of nobleness in the figures, with a strong and
natural expression. We observe a kind of beauty in the productions of
this class peculiar to themselves, and which appears to be neither copied
from the ancients, nor from the Roman nor Lombard schools. But this
school, like that of the Venetians, upon which model it was formed,
possesses too much locality. Rubens their head took his figures mostly
from the people before him: and, as Paul Veronese introduced Venetian
gentlemen into his pictures, in the same manner did Bassano delineate
the boors of his district, and called them patriarchs and prophets. The
founder of this school was John de Bruges; but Peter Paul Rubens
must be considered as laying the foundation of the rationale of the art
in that country. This indefatigable and excellent artist has left us nu-
merous monuments of his various powers. He succeeded equally in
portrait, landscape, and historical painting: he excelled also in fruits,
animals, and flowers. His works appear less destitute of that soft in-
spiration which produces that pleasant effect felt on reviewing the works
of Raphael; but he is still successful in producing astonishment in the
observer. His figures appear to be the counterpart of his great con-
ceptions. His design is noble and easy. Notwithstanding his great
knowledge of anatomy, the impetuosity of his imagination, and his ar-
dour for execution were so great, that he preferred splendour to the
beauty of forms and symmetry; and too often sacrificed his correct taste
for design to the magical illusion of colours. In his draperies he was
rather fine than pertinent, for he justly considered that clothing and
drapery are not synonymous terms. He is the first among painters for
pomp and majesty; the first among those who speak to the eye; and
the power of the heart is, by him, often carried to the highest pitch of
enchantment.
•
Few, if any, artists invented and executed with greater facility than
Rubens: he frequently made several sketches of the same subject alto-
gether different from each other, without allowing any time to elapse
between them, which at once indicates the variety of his conceptions,
and his diligent application to the subject. It must be allowed that he
excels chiefly in colouring, in which it is also evident he is surpassed by
Titian. On a comparative view of Rubens with Titian, we may, with-
out partiality, observe that Rubens' method was to lay the colours in
their places one at the side of another, and blend them afterwards by a
slight touch of the pencil. Titian mingled his tints to produce the
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effect of natural colours, in such a manner as to render it impossible to
discover where they began or terminated: the effect is evident, the la-
bour is concealed. It is upon this account that Rubens appears more
dazzling, and Titian more harmonious. The former excites the atten-
tion, the latter fixes it. The colours of Titian resemble those of nature;
but those of Rubens the effect of art. The figures of Rubens act with
energy, and indicate expression; but they are deficient in simplicity
and dignity. His colouring is too much tinied: in a word, in all his
works, there appears a want of that distinction and elegance of mind
requisite in the higher walks of painting; nevertheless, all the qualities
of the subordinate style appear in him with their greatest lustre. In
his behalf we must admit, that the facility with which he invented, the
richness of his composition, the luxuriant brilliancy of his colouring, so
dazzle the eye, that, on a contemplation of his works, we readily excuse
all his defects. Sir Joshua Reynolds observes, "Rubens is a remark-
able instance of the same mind being seen in all the various parts of the
art. The whole is so much of a piece, that one can scarce be brought
to believe, but that if any one of them had been more correct and per-
fect, his works would not be so complete as they appear. If we should
allow a greater purity and correctness of drawing, his want of simpli-
city in composition colouring and drapery would appear more gross.'
59
The Dutch School appears deficient in several essentials of the art,
except that of colouring. Their artists depart further from the great
style than those of the Flemish school, by their slavish confinement to
local manners and personages. They have also fallen lower, in this
respect, than the Flemings, by not only disregarding beauty of heads
and forms, but in singling out, for their imitation, the most low and
ignoble objects, namely, tavern scenes, views of smiths' shops, and the
vulgar amusements of the rudest peasants; nevertheless, in these the
expression of the passions are sufficiently marked. The distinguishing
characteristics of this school are a predilection for low and mean sub-
jects; a success in the most striking parts of the chiaro oscuro, as in the
display of light confined in a narrow space, as that occasioned by
torches, a smith's forge, and moonlight scenes; a just observance of
perspective; a successful description of clouds, sea scenes, animals,
flowers, fruits, insects, &c. in miniature painting, and, in short, in every
thing which requires a faithful imitation, good colour, and nice pencil.
The founder of this school was Lucas of Leyden, who flourished about
the end of the fifteenth century; the subjects of his pencil were history,
landscape, and portrait. He painted in oil, in water colours, and on
glass. His picture of the Last Judgment is still preserved in the town-
house of Leyden; it possesses a great portion of merit, and contains a
great variety of figures. The Dutch school has produced some good
history painters, in the persons of Octavus Van Been, and Vander Hilst;
the latter the rival of Vandyke. Cornelius Polembourg may be consi-
dered as the father of miniature painting in this school; he possessed
that delicacy of touch, truth of colouring, and disposition of the chiaro
oscuro, which characterize all the miniatures of this class of artists; but
he is too often incorrect in his design. The celebrated Rembrandt
Vanryn degenerated more than any other artist of this school into that
low grovelling choice of subject mentioned above, which is the more of-
fensive in his productions, as they often require an opposite choice of
figures. It is related of him, that he studied the grotesque appearance



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of a Dutch peasant, or the servant of an inn, with as much application
as the greatest masters in Italy would have studied the Apollo of Belve-
dere, or the Venus de Medicis. In this respect he deserves to have
every indulgence shewn him: as his father was a miller, near Leyden,
he was denied the advantage of a liberal education, and his success in
the art depended entirely on the exertion of his own natural talents.
M. Descamps observes, that "Rembrandt may be compared to the
great artists for colour, and delicacy of touch, and chiaro oscuro.
pears that he would have discovered the art, though he had been the
first person that ever attempted it. He formed to himself rules and a
method of colouring, together with the mixture of colours, and the ef-
fect of the different tones. He delighted in the great oppositions of
light and shade; and he seems to have been chiefly attentive to this
branch of the art. His workshop was occasionally made dark, and he
received the light by a hole, which fell as he chose to direct it on the
place which he desired to be enlightened. On particular occasions he
passed behind his model a piece of cloth of the same colour with the
ground he wanted; and this piece of cloth receiving the same ray which
enlightened the head, marked the difference in a sensible manner, and
allowed the painter the power of augmenting it according to his prin-
ciple.

Rembrandt's manner of painting is a kind of magic. No artist knew
better the effects of different colours mingled together, nor could better
distinguish those which did not agree from those which did. He placed
every tone in its place, with so much exactness and harmony, that he
needed not to mix them, and so destroy what may be called the flower
and freshness of the colours. He made the first draught of his pictures
with great precision, and with a mixture of colours altogether particular:
he proceeded on his first sketch with a vigorous application, and some-
times loaded his lights with so great a quantity of colour, that he seem-
ed to model rather than to paint. One of his heads is said to have a
nose nearly as much projected by the quantity of colour in it as the na-
tural nose which he copied."
The distinguishing characters of Rembrandt are a surprising power
of genius, which more than counterbalances all his numerous faults, and
a just and lively expression, executed with great judgment.
The next artist of this class is John de Laer, a painter of miniature.
He merits a considerable place in the Dutch school, from his correct
manner of design, and vigorous and lively colouring. He did not de-
scend so low in the choice of his subjects as most other artists of this
class: his scenes were those of common life, and consequently displayed
more nature than sublimity: they were chiefly hunting parties, the at-
tacks of robbers, public festivals, landscapes, and sea views; and he or-
namented his pictures with old ruins, and enriched them with figures of
men and animals.
The last school to be mentioned, but which ought to possess the pri-
mary place in the estimation of the students for whom this work is in-
tended, is THE ENGLISH SCHOOL. This sect, founded in our own time,
and in our own country, under the munificence of a prince, ever intent
on promoting literature and the arts in every department; and under a
director, of great solidity of judgment and delicacy of taste, cannot fail,
under well directed precepts, to attain the highest degree of excellence.
Its professed object is, in a word, to unite in itself, according to the
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principles of true taste, the various excellencies which lie dispersed
among all the other classes of painters. But to avoid the appearance of
partiality of speaking of this school, its general character is here given
from a French artist, from whom we can be in little danger of receiving
unmerited praise:-" Beauty ought to be the characteristic of the
English school, because the artists have it often exposed to their view.
If this beauty be not precisely.similar to that among the ancients, it is
not inferior to it. The English school should also distinguish itself for
truth of expression, because the liberty enjoyed in that country gives to
every passion its natural and unbiassed operation. It will probably long
preserve its simplicity, unpolluted by the pomp of theatrical taste, and the
conceit of false graces, because the English_manners will long preserve
their simplicity. Examine the picture of a French woman, painted by
an artist of that nation, and you will generally find, in place of expres-
sion, a forced grin, in which the eyes and the forehead do not partake,
and which indicates no affection of the mind. Examine the picture of
an English woman, done by one of their painters, and you observe an
elegant and simple expression, which makes you at once acquainted
with the character of the person represented.”



•
This school was formed only in the year 1769. To bestow any en-
comiums on its founder (Sir Joshua Reynolds) would be superfluous.
His works indicate a genius which has seldom been surpassed: and his
discourses to the academicians, joined to his example as a painter,
have disseminated, and will secure his reputation as long as England.
or the world at large, shall esteem the worth of great abilities.
1
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•
Whoever examines the pictures of the English school; namely, the
Death of General Wolfe, the Departure of Regulus for Carthage, the
arrival of Agrippina, and some other subjects; cannot hesitate a moment
to pronounce that this society is acquainted with true greatness of style,
boldness of expression, and the art of managing a great number of
figures. It is the wish of every lover of the arts, and fortunate it will
no doubt be, for the fame of British painters, if the members of this class
be more rigid in exactness, with regard to their forms, than solicitous
to produce poignant and astonishing effects.
麝
​The taste of the English school appears to be formed on the great
masters of the Italian and Flemish schools. Sir Joshua was a great
admirer of Michael Angelo, and particularly recommends him to the
attention of the academicians :-" I feel (says he) a self-congratulation
in knowing myself capable of such sensations as he intended to excite.
I reflect, not without vanity, that these discourses bear testimony of my
admiration of that truly divine man; and I should desire that the last
words which I should pronounce in this academy, and from this place,
might be the name of Michael Angelo." But though he thus enthusi-
astically admired this very great man, yet he allows, what cannot indeed
be denied, that he was capricious in his inventions:-" and this (says
he) may make some circumspection necessary in studying his works;
for though they appear to become him, an imitation of them is always
dangerous, and will prove sometimes ridiculous. In that dread circle
none durst tread but he. To me, I confess, his caprice does not lower
the estimation of his genius, even though it be sometimes, I acknow-
ledge, carried to the extreme: and however those eccentric excursions
are considered, we must at the same time recollect that these faults, if
they are faults, are such as never could occur to a mean and vulgar
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mind; that they flowed from the same source which produced his
greatest beauties; and were therefore such as none but himself was
capable of committing; they were the powerful impulses of a mind un-
used to subjection of any kind, and too high to be controuled by cold
criticism."
་
The greater part of the foregoing schools are now extinct. Italy
alone had four schools, and at this time there remain but a few Italian
artists known to foreigners. The school of Rubens in Flanders is no
more. The Dutch school, if it still exist, is not known beyond the li-
mits of that country: and not more than two or three artists remain of
the German school.
The busy enquirer may discover a probable cause which gave to each
school its peculiar manner. The purity and taste of the Roman artists
are the natural consequences of the excellent education of the first mas-
ters of that school; and also of the precious remains of antiquity found
in the ruins of that magnificent city. The gaudy taste of the Venetian
school is owing to the richness and luxuriancy of those who only had it
in their power to reward the artist, and whose vicious taste must be
gratified at the expence of the real beauties of the art. The commerce
of the East, and the consequently great population of the city of Venice,
conspired to render the artist more conversant with tumult than rural
scenes. And the frequency of feasts masquerades and public assemblies
rendered these scenes objects of general attention.
A similar cause
operated in the Dutch school. The painters of that country, accustom-
ed to visit taverns and workshops, acquired their low style from the
frequency of those mean and grotesque figures they had constantly be-
fore their eyes.
•
On a comparison of the ancient with the modern practice of painting,
the curious critics have found it difficult to decide the superiority. In
sculpture the ancients undoubtedly excelled: but in painting it is more
generally asserted (though perhaps not strictly true) that the Greeks are
inferior. The chief difference of the two manners consists in the com-
plication of figures, and the pompous decoration of scenery which
pre-
vail in the works of the moderns. The productions of the ancient
painters are remarkable for unity and simplicity, which is evident is not
the effect of incapacity, but of a decided choice. Polygnotus, one of
their most ancient artists, painted the siege of Troy, and introduced also
a great number of figures in his Descent of Ulysses into Hell. But two,
three, or at the most four figures, were the greatest number admissible.
Though too great a number of figures in a piece diverts and distracts
the attention of the observer; yet, on the other hand, it must be ad-
initted, that we are accustomed to behold assemblages in nature; and it
is an undoubted fact, that in an affecting scene a great number of
figures may not only be brought together, but may considerably heighten
the distress. Upon a view of the matter, it appears, that the moderns
have chosen a more difficult part; and if they have executed it with suc-
cess, their merit is so much the greater.
But a more particular view of the subject will lead us to a consi-
deration of the eminence of the ancient painters in the particular
branches of the art. The only evidence on this head must be
derived from the morsels of antiquity which yet remain, and from
what ancient writers have said on the subject of painting, both of which
are extremely defective. It is generally allowed by every skilful per-
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son who has examined the former, that none of them appear the per-
formances of superior artists, notwithstanding the merit in the design,
and the accuracy in the drawing, which seem the characteristics of all
the ancients. The best ancient painting, the supposed marriage, in the
Aldrobandine palace, Sir Joshua Reynolds says, " is evidently far short
of that degree of excellence undoubtedly implied in the descriptions of
ancient artists, and which from them we are fairly led to expect." And
of the many treatises which we are informed were composed by the an-
cients, on the subject of painting, not one work written expressly on
the art remains. All we can collect is from a few desultory remarks,
and cursory notices, dispersed in essays on other subjects. We are,
however, by these sufficiently informed that the ancient artists paid par-
ticular attention to design, in which they were so successful as to be-
come the models of, and still remain unequalled by the moderns. This
is the less to be wondered at when we reflect that many of them united
the art of sculpture with that of painting: it was the case with Zeuxis,
Protogenes, Apelles, &c. And, from the antiquities of Herculanum, it
is evident that many of their artists, even of mediocrity, far excelled the
moderns in the truth elegance and spirit of their design.
The same cause, namely, their knowledge of sculpture, enabled them
to succeed equally in expression, which is carried to such an unrivalled
height, that in their statues we observe not only the conformity of
every feature of the face to produce this effect, but every muscle in the
body contributes towards this great perfection. Neither were they de-
fective in the expression of characters and manners. Mr. Webb ob-
serves, "the ancients thought characters and manners so essential to
painting, that they expressly term picture an art descriptive of manners.
Aristotle also, in his poetics, says of Polygnotus, "that he was a painter
of the manners;" and he mentions the deficiency of Zeuxis in this par-
ticular. Philostratus gives the following description of a picture:-
"We may instantly distinguish Ulysses, by his severity and vigilance;
Menelaus, by his mildness; and Agamemnon, by a kind of divine ma-
jesty. In the son of Tydeus is expressed an air of freedom; Ajax is
known by his sullen fierceness; and Amilochus by his alertness. To
give to these such sentiments and actions as are natural to their peculiar
characters, is the ethic of painting. The Medea of Timomachus is also
an instance of excellent expression."

We are not warranted in bestowing equal commendations on the co-
louring of the ancients; though there is no doubt but they particularly
studied this part of the art, and arrived in it to a considerable excellence:
but as the praises of ancient authors, on this head, relate chiefly to the
style as exerted upon single figures, or particular tints, it may be doubt-
ed whether they possessed the art of distributing their colours, through
the whole of the piece, so as to produce that harmony and general tone
of colouring we admire in the works of the Lombard and Flemish
schools. From the writings of Pliny, Lucian, and Plutarch, we may
collect, that the ancient painters of Greece understood the rationale of
colouring. Pliny mentions tone of colours, and the handling, or what
we now call harmony. Lucian, in his description of the male and fe-
male centaurs by Zeuxis, after describing the treatment of the subject,
proceeds to notice the technical execution of the picture; and he praises,
in particular, the truth and delicacy of the drawing, the perfect blend-
ing of the colours, the skilful shading, the scientific preservation of size
:
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336
and magnitude, and the equality and harmony of the proportions
throughout the whole piece. Plutarch also observes, that "painters
increase the effect of the light and splendid parts of a picture, by the
neighbourhood of dark tints and shades." And Maximus Tyrius says,
that, "bright and vivid colours are always pleasant to the eye; but this
pleasure is always lessened, if you omit to accompany them with some-
what dark and gloomy." These, and other testimonies, evince a know-
ledge of the use of dark and cold tints, even in a brilliant tone of co-
louring: but the best ancient painters appeared to have preferred a
chaste and sober style to the more gaudy and fluttering one of later
times.
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Very good artists and eminent critics, among the moderns, have de-
nied the ancients any knowledge of the chiaro oscuro, because it is not
met with in any of those remains which have come to our hands. The
Abbé du Bos, on the contrary asserts, that they equalled, in this part of
the art, the most celebrated among the moderns; grounding his opinion
on the assertions of Pliny and other ancient writers, concerning the de-
lightful distribution of light and shade: it appears, however, on the ex-
amination of the greater part of the passages from antiquity, that the
ancient painters understood at least what relate to the light and shade
of single figures, without including what is now called the chiaro oscuro.
The remains of ancient artists, which have come to our hands, are in-
decisive upon this subject, as they are the productions of an inferior
class, and may be considered as on the same rank with the paintings
that ornament our public gardens.
With regard to the art of grouping their figures, critics are generally
of opinion that the ancient painters are far excelled by the moderns. In
the remaining antiquities we meet with few examples of this most diffi-
cult branch: and among the many paintings enumerated by Pliny, Lu-
cian, and Philostratus, none of them is praised for this excellence. From
the paucity of the figures introduced into the generality of the ancient
pictures there is no reason to expect that they attended much to this very
material branch of the art: but there is sufficient reason to believe they
were not, in this point, entirely destitute of taste: for in a picture found
in Herculanum, which is thought to represent the education of Achilles,
the figure of an old man holding a child on his knee, together with that
of a woman behind him, form a very agreeable group. Another work,
in the same collection, painted in one colour, on marble, consists of five
figures, grouped very much after the modern idea, if it were not that
three of the heads are of the same height. This piece is, most probably,
And one
the copy of a picture finished in the purest times of Greece.
of their paintings, mentioned by Pliny, is said to have contained one
hundred figures, which unwieldy number must produce a very disa-
greeable effect, if they were not grouped with some skill. Perhaps
their inattention to this quality arose from their peculiar taste. De
siring to display, in the fullest manner, their painted figures, as they
did their statues, they detached every figure from another in the same
picture, by which means they were enabled, not only to give their ob-
jects more relief, but to render them more distinct and apparent to a dis-
tant observer.
-
of
With regard to invention, there is little doubt but they were at least
equal to the moderns, many instances might be adduced in support
their claim to this merit: but it will be sufficient to observe, that as thev
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have far surpassed the moderns in invention, in the two sister arts,
namely, poetry and sculpture, there is no reason to believe they fell
short in that of painting. As a happy invention also is rather a natural
endowment than an acquired talent; and as the ancients seem in no wise
inferior to the moderns in the gifts of genius and good sense, we cannot
hesitate a moment in assigning them the honour of possessing this branch
of the art.
:
On examining their works with a view to trace their observance of
the costume, or that attention to probability with respect to time, place,
objects, persons, and circumstances, we find the most gross violations
of probability and representations of events, impossibly coincident. Thist
has given occasion to some critics to assert, that the ancients knew no-
thing of, or at least did not attend to the costume; but this charge is
brought somewhat too hastily: for those productions are evidently the
performances of artists of no reputation; and none of them to which this
objection implies are regular representations of any person or transac-
tion; they were likewise, for the most part, manifestly intended as or-
naments to apartments, and as such were of an inferior class of painting;
the taste of the owner, likewise, and not that of the artist, was consulted.
·
From the manner in which the ancient writers expressed themselves
on this subject, not recommending the practice of it, but taking it for
granted, we may conclude that their best painters seldom violated this
rule. Perhaps the ancients attended more scrupulously to the costume
than the moderns: for the most celebrated of modern painters, from
Raphael to Sir Joshua Reynolds, have departed so widely from this rule,
in many instances, as to shock the sober reason of a person not aware
of them.
Concerning the attention of the ancient painters to the rules of
per-
spective,, they would fall under the same censure as when examined
touching their knowledge in the chiaro oscuro: that is, if we decide upon
them, in this particular, from a view of their works, we must pronounce
them more ignorant or careless of its laws than an English sign painter.
Such flagrant violations of the rules of perspective appear in the picture
of the Sacrifice, among the Herculanean antiquities; and the fourth of
the pieces taken from the paintings in the sepulchre of the Nasones, as
to indicate some little knowledge of perspective in the artist; but in the
other landscapes of the ancients, we see so little observance of its laws,
that we cannot dwell on the comparison. But a knowledge of this es-
sential rule, and, no doubt, a perfect mathematical skill in its precepts,
cannot be denied them. They were good mathematicians, they were ex-
cellent architects, and some of them are celebrated for their skill in
scene-painting. The ancients also practised the art of painting in per-
spective on walls, in the same way that it is now done by the moderns:
and Pliny says that one of the walls of the theatre of Claudius Pulcher,
representing a roof covered with tiles, was finished in so masterly a man-
ner, that the rooks, birds of no small sagacity, taking it for a real roof,
attempted to light upon it. We are likewise told, that a dog was de-
ceived to such a degree, by certain steps in a perspective of Daulos,
that expecting to find a free passage, he made up to them in full speed,
and dashed out his brains. But what is still more, Vitruvius tells us, in
express terms, by whom, and in what time, this art was invented. It
was first practised by Agatharchus, a contemporary of Eschylus, in the
theatre of Athens; and afterwards reduced to certain principles, and
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​treated as a science by Anaxagoras and Demoeritus; thus faring like
other arts, which existed in practice before they appeared in theory.
Thus it appears that the ancients were not inferior to the moderns in all
the principal parts of the art; in the drawing and colouring of single
figures, they must be allowed to be equal, if not superior, to the moderns;
their statues and paintings remaining, evince the spirit, animation, ease,
and dignity of their manner: as they possessed all the requisites of por-
trait painting, it is no wonder that they excelled in that branch. The
purity of their design, and beauty and expression of their forms, laid the
foundation of excellence in modern artists. Those parts of the art in
which they are excelled by the moderns, are the inferior qualities; the
allurement of colouring, the ingenuity of the chiaro oscuro, the splen-
dour of composition, the art of grouping figures, and the nice handling
of the pencil.
He who imagines that all the qualifications neces-
sary to form a good painter are circumscribed within the mechanical
management of colours, and a knowledge of the chiaro oscuro, does very
little justice to the art of painting, and will, in the end, find himself
greatly deceived. The success of some eminent men, who were in a
great measure, unacquainted with every other subject but that of paint-
ing, by no means warrants the hasty, crude, and unqualified attempts
of others; on the contrary, their frequent failures should save as beacons
to guard us from the like mistakes, and caution us from suing this
subject with minds unfurnished with the requisite materials. Though
the artist do not require that extensive knowledge which Cicero says the
orator should possess; yet there are many subjects, his acquaintance with
which is indispensable to insure his success. The principal of these are
anatomy, perspective, a general knowledge of sacred, civil, and fabulous
history, and an attentive observance of nature. To insist upon the ne-
cessity of this branch of the student's attainments would be superfluous :
the authorities and examples of the greatest masters and most celebrated
schools are sufficient to enforce the prosecution of this subject. He who
is unacquainted even with the form and construction of the several bones
which support and govern the human frame, and who knows not the
offices and situations of the muscles by which the bones are moved, will
never be able to describe accurately those variations they occasion in the
exterior surface of the body, a delineation of which is, however, the
noblest part of the art. It is impossible for the painter to copy an ob-
ject placed before his eyes unless he thoroughly understand it. Though
he bestow ever so much time and pains on the subject he will not suc-
ceed; but, like him who undertakes to translate a work which he does
not understand, from another language into his own, will only expose
his own ignorance. The artist who expects to excel must be able also
to describe, with justice to anatomical truth, the various parts of the hu-
man frame, under any sudden gestures, violent motions, and those mo-
mentary attitudes, in which he can procure no living model for a pat-
teru. Here he will find occasion for an intimate acquaintance with
anatomy. In still and languid positions, where the muscles are to have
no action, a living model may afford him considerable assistance, and for
a long time furnish him with a faithful pattern: but, in the former case,
postures and attitudes may be required, wherein a living model cannot
remain above a minute or two, and then grows languid and settles into
a fixed attitude. The painter must, therefore, acquire such knowledge
of anatomy as to be able, at all times, to express his subject in every
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circumstance and situation.
Though copying from living models has
been practised by the greatest masters, and still affords great assistancé
to the student, yet they very often mislead him, and tend to make him
lose sight of truth and nature, by exhibiting the very reverse of what is
required, or displaying it in a faint and imperfect manner. For in liv-
ing bodies we often observe a coldness and torpidity in those parts
which should have the greatest share of life and spirits; and where there
should be a quick motion we perceive a slow one, and vice versa. It is
not to be understood, from what is here advanced, that the student is to
enter as deeply into the subject of anatomy as the surgeon or physician.
It is enough for him to be acquainted with the skeleton; or the form
and connection of the bones; and the origin, insertion, and use of each
of the principal muscles, with their general appearance when in action,
In conjunction with the study of anatomy, and as assistant thereto, he
should, if possible, have recourse to anatomical casts. There are many
very good ones extant, the productions of men every way adequate to
the subject.

Perspective claims the student's attention equally with anatomy. The
latter enables him to express the human body, and its various parts, in
every situation and circumstance: the former teaches him to give ob-
jects their respective contours, according to their distances from the ob-
server, and their relative situations. For the contour of any object,
drawn upon a plain surface, is nothing more than such an intersection
of the visual rays, sent from the extremities of the object to the eye, as
would appear on a glass, put in the place of the canvas or paper, upon
which the object is drawn: the surface, therefore, of the picture may
justly be considered as no other than a glass through which we per.
ceive the object on the other side of it. Consequently the situation of
an object on the one side of a glass being given, the delineation of it on
the glass itself depends entirely on the situation of the eye of the obser-
ver on the other side of the glass; that is to say, on the rules of perspec
tive. How necessary the knowledge of this art is to a painter a very
little reflection will determine. It teaches in what proportion the parts
of an object lessen from the eye, according to their distances; and how
figures are to be marshalled and foreshortened upon a plain surface: in
a word, it contains the whole principles of design. Notwithstanding
the utility of this art, it has been too much neglected by many modern
painters, who have considered it as extending no farther than to the
painting of scenes, floors, &c. it has even been called a fallacious art, and
an insidious guide: but those best acquainted with it can demonstrate
the incontrovertible truth of its principles, which are founded on the most
evident laws of geometry; and the greatest painters are sensible, that
without its assistance it is impossible to describe with justice a simple
outline. But as perspective is founded upon geometry, and depends for
its demonstration on the doctrine of proportions, on the properties of si-
milar triangles, and on the intersection of plaens, the student should pos-
sess a general knowledge of geometry.
Nearly allied with perspective and geometry is the knowledge of optics,
with which the painter must be well acquainted. Having but a slight
knowledge of geometry and perspective he will find optics an easy task.
Its laws, like those of perspective, are founded on lines and angles. Any
treatise on the subject, containing the general laws of vision, reflexion,
and refraction, will be sufficient for his purpose. It will teach him to
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determine the degree in which objects are to be illuminated, or shaded;
it will enable him to cast the shades of his figures properly on the planes
on which they stand; and, in general, furnish him with the whole ra-
tionale of the chiaro oscuro. Amidst his other necessary qualifications,
the young artist must by no means neglect the study of nature. The
artist must be fully sensible, that by the term following nature, he is by
no means to understand a servile manner of copying natural objects.
Painting is not only to be considered as an imitation operating by de-
ception, but it is, strictly speaking, in many points of view, no imitation
at all of external nature; but is as far removed from the vulgar idea of
imitation as the refined civilized state in which we live is removed from
the rude unpolished manners of the Hottentots; and those who have
not cultivated their minds by an attention to the rules of taste, may be
said to continue, with regard to their intellectual powers, in a state of
nature. Such people will always prefer crude unqualified imitation to the
other higher excellencies, which are addressed to faculties they do not
possess: but those are not the persons to whom a painter is to look, and
from whom he is to expect reward. His productions, to possess im-
mortality, must deserve the attention of the enlightened part of man-
kind: I mean those only who are taught to renounce the narrow idea
of nature, and the narrow theories derived from that mistaken principle
of copying her servilely, and in the detail. In the higher parts of both
poetry and painting a servile imitation of nature is strictly to be avoided.
A higher order of beings is to be introduced into the piece, to whom
every thing else must correspond. Steen, in his picture of the Sacrifice
of Iphigenia, has rendered both himself and the subject ridiculous, by
his slavish confinement to individual nature: notwithstanding there is
great expression in his figures, and probability in the composition, yet it is
such expression, and the countenances are so familiar and vulgar, and
the whole company attired with such a finery of silks and velvet, that a
great artist was tempted to doubt whether the painter did not purpose-
ly intend to burlesque the subject. "If we suppose," says an eminent
painter,«
a view of nature, represented with all the truth of the camera
obscura, and the same scene represented by a great artist, how little
and mean will the one appear in comparison of the other, where no su-
periority is supposed from the choice of the subject. The scene shall
be the same, the difference will be only in the manner in which it is
presented to the eye. With what additional superiority then will the
same artist appear when he has the power of selecting his materials as
well as elevating his style? Like Nicholas Poussin, he transports us to
the environs of ancient Rome, with all the objects which a literary edu-
cation makes so precious and interesting to man: or, like Sebastian
Bourdon, he leads us to the dark tranquillity of Arcadian scenes and
fairy land. Like the history painter, a painter of landscapes, in this
style, and with this conduct, sends the imagination back into antiquity;
and, like the poet, he makes the elements sympathise with his subject:
whether the clouds roll in volumes, like those of Titian, or Salvator
Rosa;-or are gilded with the setting sun, like those of Claude Lor-
raine;
whether the mountains have sudden and bold projections, or are
gently sloped; whether the branches of his trees shoot out abruptly, in
right angles from their trunks, or follow each other with only a gentle
inclination. All these circumstances contribute to the general character
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"If we add to this the powerful materials of light and dark over which
the artist has complete dominion, to vary and dispose them as he please;.
to diminish or increase them as will best suit his purpose, and corre-
spond to the general idea of his work: a landscape thus conducted, un-
der the influence of a poetical mind, will have the same superiority over
the more ordinary and common views, as Milton's Allegro and Pensie-·
roso have over a cold prosaic narration or description; and such a pic-.
ture would make a more forcible impression on the mind than the real
scenes, were they presented before us." Thus it
Thus it appears that an artist.
should have a mind enlightened with a general knowledge of science;:
but this is not sufficient: he should be acquainted both with historical
facts and the principal epic histories. Those who imagine that a pain-
ter stands in need of nothing more than a few casts of the remains of
antiquity, with some other relies, are greatly deceived. Algarotti ob-
serves, that such things are, no doubt, necessary to a painter, and per-
haps for one who wants only to paint half lengths, or is willing to confine
himself to a few low subjects. But they are by no means sufficient for
him who would soar higher; for the painter who would attempt the uni-
verse, and represent it in all its parts, such as, in our imagination,
we think, not unreasonably, it might appear, such a painter alone
is a true, an universal, a perfect painter. And though none can,
expect to attain this high degree of eminence, yet all should aspire,
towards it, on the pain of ever continuing at a very mortifying dis-
tance from it. It is necessary to have this idea of a perfect painter in
our mind, as a pattern to excite emulation. Without some such incen-
tives the mind would degenerate into torpidity; the artist would doze
over his work; and go on copying without improving, and painting but
without success.
►
!
Of Painting in Oil: the necessary Materials, and Method of Using them.
OF
every part of the fine arts, painting in oil, undoubtedly, claims
the pre-eminence: it exceeds every other species of painting in its great-
er accuracy of colours, and in its wonderful force and expression. It
also surpasses miniature and crayon painting, in its extended dimensions,
whereby most objects of animated nature may be represented as large as
the life, by which means the imitation is rendered more complete, and
the powers of illusion and deception perfected, to such a degree as to
astonish the inexperienced in the art. But these are only the inferior
qualifications of an artist; the skilful painter possesses higher excellen-
cies, and aims at far nobler attainments.
The materials necessary in oil painting are, a pallet, a pallet-knife,
pencils, tools, an easel, picture cloths, a maul stick, and oil colours. The
pallet is so common as to need no description: its use is to contain the
colour, being held on the left hand while at work, by passing the thumb
through a hole near the front. To set the pallet, signifies the placing of
the colours thereon in their proper order. The middle of the pallet
serves to hold the colour while it is wrought with the pallet-knife, with
the addition of some nut oil, if necessary. The colour is then put in its
proper place on the pallet; that is, the lighter colours are placed next
the hand, the darker ones next, increasing in the depth of their colours
in proportion to their distances from the front of the pallet: a second
row of tints is then to be formed of the original colours, by mixing these
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;
togetder, in suca proportions as to produce tints to suit the subject of
the piece. A third row of tints must also be made, which should, if
possible, approach nearer the complexion of the piece than the second
row. For example, the original colours being placed on the outer part
of the pallet, take lake and Naples yellow, to which white may be added;
this composition forms the second row. If a lighter tint of the same
colours be wanting, an addition of white will produce it, to form the
third row; or a light red, or a light yellow, to the colours of the se-
cond row will also form the third row; or any other variation, as may
suit the artist's intention. The oil colours are best kept in bladders
and when wanted for use the bladder is to be pricked with a pin, and
no more colour squeezed out than is necessary for the present use, other.
wise it will spoil. The pallet-knife is a thin well-tempered blade: its
use is to mix and work up the colours on the pallet. Pencils are ge-
nerally of two sorts, viz. camel-hair pencils and fitch pencils. Fitch
pencils are used by some artists to give a smoothness to their pictures,
by working the colours into each other after they have been laid on
with the camel-hair pencil. This is called scumbling the colours. Others,
who wish to give a bold appearance to their works, paint wholly with
fitches. Tools are only a larger kind of pencils, not inserted into quills,
of the foregoing; but the hairs are bound round a stick, in the manner
as the brushes used by house-painters. They are of a stronger nature;
some good artists have used no others. There is also another sort of
pencils, having very long hairs, used chiefly by painters of shipping, to
describe the ropes, &c. The easel is formed various ways, according to
the fancy of the artist. Its use is to support the picture, or canvas,
upon which the painter is employed. The most common form for it is
three strait legs, the longest being behind. In the two front legs are a
number of holes, corresponding in height to each other, in order that,
when a peg is placed in the corresponding holes of each leg, they support
evenly whatever is laid upon them. A slight piece of board is usually
placed on these pegs to support small pictures. Picture-cloths are those
substances upon which the picture is painted. They were formerly almost
universally of canvas, but some artists, of late, prefer a sort of ticking
made for the purpose. Landscape painters generally choose cloths of a
very smooth surface.
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Á maul-stick is a slender rod of wood, with a ball of cotton or some
other soft substance tied to one end, whereby it may rest against the
picture without damaging it. Its use is to support the right hand while
at work, being held in the left hand with the cotton ball resting against
the painting. This implement is not in universal use; many artists
wholly reject it, as being pernicious to that freedom of hand necessary
to a good painter.
Oil colours are so called because mixed with oil, as water colours are
with water, no others being proper for this branch of painting. Many
substances have been discovered by the moderns which answer the in-
tention of the artist; the chief of those in general use, and from which
all the variety of tints may be produced, are the following:-Whites.-
Flake-white, and Nottingham-white. Yellows.-Yellow-ochre, Naples,
yellow, King's-yellow, &c. Reds-Carmine, Lake, Indian-red, Light-
red, Vermilion, Red-lead, &e. Greens.Terre-verte, Verdigris; but
the best greens are formed by a mixture of blue and yellow, in different
proportions. Brownsso Cologne earth, Brown-pink, Umber, and Terra

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de Sienna: the two latter are used both raw and burnt. Blues.---Prus-
sian-blue, Ultramarine, and Verditer. Blacks.-Blue-black, and Ivory-
black. Any other colour, and its various tints, may be formed from
two or more of the foregoing. Green, as before observed, is produced
by the union of blue and yellow, observing that the blue be not too
deep, if it is, it will form a very dull green. The more blue there is
in the composition, the darker will be the green; and, on the contrary,
a greater quantity of yellow makes a lighter green. Orange-colour is
formed by the mixture of a bright red and yellow. More red makes it
darker, and more yellow lighter. Flesh-colour is compounded of red,
yellow, and white, mixed in various proportions, according to the tint
required. For a more florid complexion less white should be used;
while a pallid countenance requires more white, and a swarthy com-
plexion should have a tint of yellow-ochre. Purples are formed of blue
and a bright red. If they be produced from a blue and a dark red,
some white should be added. Violet-colours may be produced from the
same colours as purple, but in violet the red must predominate more
than in the purple, whose predominant colour is blue. Ash-colour.---
By a mixture of black and white. Bay-colour.---A bright red with a
'ittle brown and black; as, for instance, vermilion with a little umber
and black. Carnation-colour.---Red and white. Crimson.---The same
as the last, but with a greater proportion of red. Flame-colour.---A
bright red and full yellow. If the red be not bright a little white must
be added. Hair-colour.---A light and dark yellow, united with brown,
black, and white. Lead-colour.---A deep blue and white. Russet-co-
lour.---Black and white. Scarlet.---A dark and light red. Pink.---A
light red with a little white and yellow. Sea Green.---Yellow, with a
small proportion of light blue. Sky-colour.---Light-blue and white;
but in general a sky requires three tints: for the lowest parts light yel-
low, and white; for the next higher part blue and white; and for the
upper part blue alone. Straw-colour.---A light and dark yellow, with
a small proportion of light red. Water-colour.---Blue and white,
heightened with white, and shaded with blue.


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The above directions, well understood, will enable the student to
form any other tint he may require. He must always remember, that
white mixed with any colour, or with any composition of colours, al-
ways makes them lighter. But if any colour or tint be too light, it can
never be rendered deeper by the addition of black: this would perfectly
spoil it. And the best way to deepen a colour or tint when too light,
is to paint it over with a darker colour of a similar nature, till it be
brought to the tone required: this is termed glazing it over and is also
used where great richness is required in any particular colour, as in
crimson, &c. in which case, when the crimson colour is laid on and
finished, the artist glazes it with a coat of lake. Sometimes the picture,
or a part thereof, is glazed twice or more, and the lights retouched: by
repeated glazings with carmine and lake a bright white has been turned
into a crimson. Glazing should always, if possible, be performed with
transparent colours. It is, however, a practice not universally adopted,
and seldom performed, by artists whose skill enables them to produce
an equal effect without it. To heighten a colour it should be mixed
with any similar colour of a lighter tone, as light red upon dark red; ›
yellow upon light red; white upon yellow, &c. which is preferable to
beigtening the colours with white only. The oils with which the co-
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lours are mixed are of more importance in the art than is generally ima
gined. From their quality and their intimate mixture with the colour,
by which they form, as it were, a part of the colour itself, they cannot
but have a very great influence on the success of the piece. Those in
most general use are linseed oil, nut oil, and poppy oil. Linseed oil ge-
nerally injures light colours; its use therefore is, or should be, confined
to the darker ones: some artists, to render it more transparent, rectify.
it, by exposing it in a bladder to the sun; but others wholly reject it.
Nut oil is in more general use; it is more transparent than linseed oil;
of a finer quality, works smoother, and is not so subject to change the
colours. Poppy oil is generally preferred to the two others, as posses-
sing all the good qualities of the nut oil, but in a higher degree: it is
also clearer than the nut oil. To pictures painted in haste; and to pre-
serve others from the injuries arising from the dampness of the weather,
drying oil is sometimes used, which is formed by boiling some sugar of
lead or litharge, in linseed oil. Drying oil should, however, be used
with caution, and that only when indispensable; as those subjects where
it has been admitted are generally found, in a short time, to have the
appearance of old, and sometimes of decayed paintings. Though it be
absolutely necessary, in many cases, to mix two or more colours toge-
ther to produce a desired tint, yet the student must be cautioned against
too wantonly indulging himself in the mixing of colours; for it is an
undoubted fact, that the more simply the colours are used the easier.
they work, their appearance is brighter, and they are far more durable
than a compound colour. For if a permanent colour be mixed with one
that is not lasting, the latter destroys the durability of the former. And
of those colours which are formed by composition, as green, orange,
purple, and the like, that which contains the fewest ingredients is the
best. Oil colours afford the artist an advantage which the painter in
water colours can never possess; namely, that of retouching any part,
or even the whole of his work; thus, black may be recoloured white,
brown, or any other colour: but this practice is by no means recom-
mended. It is never followed but when indispensable; for the under-
most colour, to produce harmony and force, should have some affinity
in its tone with the colour laid over it, which circumstance is not always
to be expected. The cloth or canvas, upon which the picture is to be
painted, is generally first primed. The priming is no more than lay-
ing on a smooth coat of colour. It is not of any great consequence what
particular tint it is formed of, provided it is rather light than dark. Por-
trait painters choose a very thin priming: and many modern artists, whose
works have met with general approbation, do not prime their cloths at all.
The colours are then to be laid on in their proper places; after which
they are sometimes softened into each other with a clean tool: this ope-
ration or scumbling, is not beneficial to every picture: where strength
is required it should not take place, neither should it be used in the
finishing touches. With regard to the progress of a picture no rule can
be given that will universally serve to direct the student, scarce any two
masters observe the same mode of procedure: the judgment is the prin
cipal guide: and, however two artists may vary from each other in the
order of performing their work, they, in the end, produce the same ef-
fect as if they had both strictly followed one determinate rule. The
only general method that can be recommended is the following :—The
outline of the figure must be faintly sketched with white chalk, and af◄
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terwards more correctly formed with the pencil, and any thin transpa-
rent colour. The larger parts are next to be laid in with their proper
colours, lights, and shades; which will, by degrees, produce an effect,
or give the appearance of a whole. This may be called the first plan
of the work, and should have more than ordinary care and pains be-
stowed upon it. At this period the colours should be carefully examin-
ed and compared with each other: their future relations and effects may
now be foreseen. The next operation consists in bringing the different
colours to their proper and respective tones. Some must be heightened,
others kept down, and others again receive tints of different hues from
what they possessed at first. The piece now begins to possess some
harmony of colouring. In this stage the work is said to have gone
through a second plan. The next and third process consists of the
finishing part: force and relief must be added where wanted; a fresh-
ness of tint given to the carnations, as they are called, or flesh-colour, to-
produce accurate keeping; and a few smart touches must be added to
conceal the effects of labour, particularly where much pains have been
taken with the subject. All large shadows should be nearly of the same
tone, according to their situations; smaller ones are somewhat fainter;
and they should all be very thin of colour: the lights of the picture
should be bold, distinct, and spirited, and should not want for colour,
which renders them more permanent. The artist should always con-
sider the distance at which his piece is to be viewed; for whatever pro-
duces no effect in the situation where the picture is to be placed is la-
bour lost. Those paintings, therefore, which are to be placed in high
situations; and also very large pieces, which must consequently be
viewed at a considerable distance, should have no very minute work,
which would not only be lost upon the observer, but, perhaps, by being
viewed at a distance, and losing its intended effect, have an awkward
and unpleasant appearance. Landscape painters generally begin their
work about the centre of the piece; they paint the sky first, and gra-
dually advance from the distant objects to the fore-ground. The back-
grounds of all objects being treated first before the object itself; where-
by a great deal of trouble is saved, which would be occasioned by paint-
ing round the objects. The following cautions and observations should
be carefully attended to by the student:-If a tint be required, while
he is at work on a picture, different from any on his pallet, it is better
to mingle the colours which compose it on the pallet with the knife than
with a pencil, as the pencil always retains more of one colour than an-
other, when it is used to incorporate them together, and thereby the
colour, with a little working, assumes a different hue. One pencil
should always be kept to one colour, otherwise the colours will never
appear fresh. Colours should never be teased, that is, mixed too much,
or when, instead of being laid on the canvas at once, they are too much
worked about with the pencil. This always injures them, particularly
the lighter ones, and makes them lose their brilliancy and just effect.
A proper allowance must always be made for that gloss and brilliancy
oil colours possess while wet. The decay of colours is, in a great mea-
sure, the consequence of too great a quantity of oil: the parts of a pic-
ture which first begin to fade are the darker colours, the glazing, and
where the colour is thin; but the lights stand much longer. It is al-
ways proper to permit a first coat of colour to be sufficiently dry, be-
fore a second is applied. To ascertain when an oil picture is dry, it
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must be breathed upon pretty strongly, and if it take the breath it 18
dry. The pallet and pencils, when laid by, should be constantly clean-
ed with spirits, or oil of turpentine.
Of Imitation. Imitation is the first step and leading principle of the
art of painting. It is a very necessary enquiry, therefore, for the young
student, whom or what he should imitate, and how far the imitation
should be pursued.
J
The grand object of the painter's imitation is that inexhaustible and
ever varying source of beauty, nature; she should ingross the greatest
share of his attention; and he must take her for his model, in her most
singular effects, in her best tempers, and in her best attire. Nature, is
not to be understood to be more perfect than art, which imitates it. It
is confessed she offers some views, of which the imitation must for ever
remain imperfect; as in the instance of a chiaro oscuro; but on the
other hand, in every thing relative to beauty of form, imitation may sur-
pass nature. Nature, in her productions, is subject to many accidents.
Art, labouring on passive and obedient materials, renders perfect the
objects of its creation; chooses every thing in nature the most excellent;
and collects the different parts, and the different beauties, of many in-
dividuals into one whole. It is seldom that we find in the same man
greatness of soul, and the due proportions of body; vigour of mind,
suppleness, firmness, and agility of limbs, joined together. Art con-
stantly represents what is rarely, or never to be met with in human na-
ture; regularity in the outlines, grandeur in the forms, grace in the at-
titudes, beauty in the members, force in the breast, agility in the limbs,
address in the arms, frankness in the forehead, spirit in the eyes, and
affability over the whole countenance. Let an artist give force and ex-
pression to all the parts of his subject; let him vary this force and ex-
pression as different circumstances make it necessary; and he will soon
perceive that art may surpass nature. But though this be granted, the
artist is not to imagine that art is actually arrived at this supreme de-
gree of perfection, and can proceed no farther. The moderns seem
never to have perceived the tract pointed out by the ancient Greeks;
for since the revival of painting, the true and agreeable, instead of the
beautiful, have been the objects of cultivation. To avail himself of all
the beauties of nature the artist must omit no opportunity of furnish-
ing himself with a variety of sketches, of natural and even artificial ob-
jects, which possess any thing beautiful or striking enough to arrest
his attention. For this purpose he should never be without his little
book and crayon in which he may slightly pourtray the effect of any
beautiful or interesting object or scene. Every fine building, every
new effect of light, every novel arrangement of a flight of clouds,
every flow of drapery, and every attitude and expression that possesses
merit, should be carefully noticed. These sketches may not only fur-
nish him with objects and scenes for his work, but he may derive a far
greater benefit from them: the habit of selecting the beautiful parts of
nature, and making them a whole, will greatly improve his taste, and
expand his mind to the purpose of his art. In addition to the imita
tion of nature he must make himself well acquainted with the dif-
ferent styles of the most eminent masters, which he should attentively
compare together, and examine. But he must be particularly careful
to avoid à servile imitation of any of them. He must learn to admire
their works, without imitating their manner. His imitation must be
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general, and not particular. Whatever may be the natural bent of his
own genius, he should follow it in preference to the manner of any
other artist. Whether he choose to paint boldly and freely like Rubens,
or to labour his works like Titian or Da Vinci, let him follow it;
otherwise as the latter artist has observed, he will not be the child,
but the grand-child of nature. The artist has also the liberty of imitat,
ing any antique, or even a modern figure, if it answer his purpose.
This has been the practice of the most eminent in the art; and their
pieces have not, upon that account, experienced the least derangement
in their value. The addition of other men's judgment, is so far from
weakening our own, that it will fashion and consolidate those ideas of
excellence which lay in their birth feeble, ill-shaped, and confused
but which are finished, and put in order, by the authority and prac
tice of those whose works may be said to have been consecrated, by
having stood the test of ages. When we speak of the habitual imita-
tion and continued study of nature, it is not to be understood that we
advise any endeavour to copy the exact peculiar colour and complexion
of another man's mind; the success of such an attempt must always
be like his who imitates exactly the air, manner, and gestures of him
whom he admires. His model may be excellent, but he himself will
be ridiculous; and this ridicule arises not from his having imitated, but
from his not having chosen the right mode of imitation. It is a necessary
warrantable pride to disdain to walk servilely behind any individual,
however elevated his rank. The true and liberal ground of imitation
is an open field, where, though he who precedes has had the advant-
age of starting before you, yet it is enough to pursue his course: you
need not tread in his footsteps; and you certainly have a right to out-
strip him, if you can. The great use of studying our predecessors is
to open the mind, to shorten our labour, and to give us the result of
the selection made by those great minds, of what is grand or beautiful
in nature; her rich stores are all spread out before us; but it is an art,
and no easy art, to know how or what to choose; and how to attain,
and secure the object of our choice. Thus the highest beauty of form
must be taken from nature; but it is an art of long duration, and great
experience, to know how to find it. He that is forming himself must
look with great caution and wariness on those peculiarities, or promi-
nent parts, which at first force themselves on view, and are the marks,
or what is commonly called the manner, by which that individual artist
is distinguished. Peculiar marks are generally, if not always, defects,
however difficult it may be wholly to escape them. Peculiarities, in
the works of art, are like those in the human figure; it is by them that
we are cognizable and distinguished one from another; but they are
always so many blemishes, which, however, both in the one case and
in the other, cease to appear deformities to those who have them con-
tinually before their eyes. In the works of art, even the most enligh-
tened mind, when warmed by beauties of the highest kind, will, by
degrees, find a repugnance within him to acknowledge any defects; nay,
his enthusiasm will carry him so far as to transform them into beauties
and objects of imitation. It must be acknowledged, that a peculiarity
of style, either from its novelty, or by seeming to proceed from a pe-
culiar turn of mind, often escapes blame; nay it is sometimes striking
and pleasing; but it is vain labour to endeavour to imitate it, because
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it ceases to have value. A manner, therefore, being a defect; and every
painter, however excellent, having a manner, it seems to follow, that all
kinds of faults, as well as beauties, may be learned under the direction
of the greatest authorities.
Of Colouring. Though colouring properly belong to the mechanism
of painting, and is undoubtedly an inferior qualification, yet, as it is
that peculiar property which immediately distinguishes it from the
other imitative arts, it is evident it deserves the student's particular at-
tention. Composition, imitation, design, expression, &c. are common
to all the arts: but colours are, in a great measure, the principles upon
which painting depends for its successful imitation. They impose upon
the eye of the observer by their resemblance to natural colours: "the
more, therefore, they imitate those colours the greater is their success.
WAT
The reasons why so few painters succeed in colouring are, the great
variety of the colours of natural objects; and the different capacities of
men to distinguish them: we seldom perceive two flowers, or even
blossoms, exactly of the same tint. And still more various are the opi-
nions of mankind with regard to the gradations and combinations of co-
lours, and that in proportion to the perfection of their visual powers and
correct habit of judging, from being long accustomed to view tints of
different hues. To excel in this branch, the student should make him-
self acquainted with that part of optics in particular, which treats of
light and colours: otherwise he will never be able to account for many
phænomena of colours which he will observe when he comes to examine
the properties and effects of different tints. In the pursuit of this sub-
ject he will find that light, simple as it may appear, is a composition of
seven different rays, namely:-red, orange, yellow, green, azure, indigo,
and violet. Experimental philosophy can ascertain the proportional
quantity of each of these coloured rays to form a light; and can also de-
monstrate the truth of the assertion by decompounding a ray of light
through a prismatic glass, whereby it, however small, is divided into
its original primitive colours. (See Optics, p. 78.) Notwithstanding
the great success of Titian, Coreggio, Giorgione, Vandyke, and a few
others, who were little instructed in the physical subtleties of colours,
no modern painter should presume to hope for an equal share of excel-
lence, until he be acquainted with those causes in the science of optics,
which produce the various effects of colours. Some minds, it is true,
will surmount all difficulties, and dive into the hidden secrets of nature,
unassisted by external aids; a natural, but rare sagacity, supplying and
superseding other assistance: but great excellencies are generally the
reward of long and indefatigable labour. Few men are by nature fa-
voured with the discernment of a Newton, the judgment of a Locke, or
the hand of a Titian. The power also of being able to assign the causes
of the effects produced by our labour, is a pleasure sufficient to instigate
any person to apply himself to this, as well as to the other branches of
useful knowledge, in any manner connected with his pursuits. As it is
impossible the painter can perfectly imitate any thing which he does
not thoroughly understand, so it is almost, if not wholly, impracticable
for him to display objects in their proper colours, till he know the causes
by which those colours are produced, and how they are more or less al-
tered by their various reflections on each other. Having attained this
most essential requisite, the young painter must next study the works
of the best colourists: there he will find his only rules to enable him to

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express the beauty of objects, as far as relates to their colours. Titian
and Coreggio seem to have been furnished by nature with the power of
distinguishing colours, and their various tints, in a manner superior to
all other artists; and thus, consequently, attended to circumstances in
their work, rejected by both their predecessors and their followers. The
former, as he did not handle his pencil, so he does not appear to have
viewed his objects in the manner of other artists. His works display
that sweetness of colouring produced by union; that beauty inseparable
from truth; and all those insensible conversions, soft transitions, and pleas-
ing modulations of tints and colours, we observe in the productions of
nature. The lustre and transparency also of the pieces of the Flemish
school, which give them a most enchanting appearance, may furnish
him with some useful hints; though it must be confessed, they are chief-
ly the effect of varnishes. They are, however, not without their use,
as they serve to shew how far colours may be improved by these additory
articles. Two cautions are absolutely necessary to the young painter,
while studying the works of those great masters. He should be careful
that the pieces he selects for his models have been well preserved.
There are none but have suffered, more or less, from the injuries of
time; though time only is capable of giving them that beautiful patina
or crust which at once renders them valuable, and stamps their antiqui-
ty; and though this produces that extraordinary degree of harmony in
the colours, and takes from them their rawness, yet, on the other hand,
it somewhat destroys their lustre, impairs their freshness, and detracts
from the life of the piece: for an old picture, though it may have been
carefully preserved, appears much as it would do immediately after paint-
ing behind a dull glass. He must also make due allowances for the ra-
vages of time and not make his piece exactly of the tints of an old ori-
ginal, but finish his colouring from truth and nature. This was the
practice of all the great colourists: some of whom, however, resigned
the operation of harmonising and heightening their tints to time alone,
while others produced this effect with their own hands.
:
The principles of colouring, may, in general, be considered as includ-
ed under the four following heads: 1. Veracity. 2. Force. 3. Grada-
tion or Keeping. 4. Harmony or Union.
Veracity, or truth of colouring, is so obvious to every understanding,
that nothing need be said to enforce an observance of its laws.
The
painter need not be told that objects must have their natural colours;
that grass must be green, snow white, &c. Inattention to this rule
scarcely deserves the name of false colouring, it is downright absurdity:
but there are many instances where the young painter may depart from
veracity, without himself perceiving his mistake. In many natural ob-
jects, of the same species, and of the same colour, we observe a quite
different tint in different individuals; this obtains more universally in
the vegetable kingdom than in any other part of nature: different sorts
of the same fruit have different hues, even among those whose general
colour is green: the different foliages of trees vary no less in their tints;
and among the various greens of the humble and useful plants of a kit-
chen garden, we can scarcely discover two exactly of the same tint.
Drapery is also greatly diversified, and its display demands a strict ad-
herence to truth: the various qualities of the articles of which our cloth-
ing is formed, though of the same colour as nearly as the manufacturer
can make them, strike the most vulgar eye, and that at a considerable

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distance, with very different effects: a piece of cotton, a piece of broad-
cloth, a piece of silk, and another of satin, may all be dyed with the same
ingredients; but how different will be their hues! and, perhaps, the
art of man could not render them perfectly alike in this particular. The
different qualities also of the same cloth, as being finér or coarser, have
a surprising effect in its tints. All these circumstances, and many more,
which the student will meet with in his observation of natural and arti-
ficial objects, must deserve his utmost care and attention, or his work
will be destitute of truth, which will destroy all its other beauties, how-
4
ever numerous.
Force is that artful combination and management of the subject, by
which the figures are placed in such a manner as to produce the greates
and the desired effect. The principal objects in a piece are to be
brought forward, placed in a conspicuous situation, displayed to advan-
tage by vigorous colours, and properly contrasted. Force owes much
of its effect to a judicious management of light and shadow, termed by
artists, chiaro oscuro, or light and dark; without which neither relief nor
force can be given to any subject. The painter who has attained the
happy method of introducing the most agreeable and just lights and sha-
dows, forming masses of considerable extent and length, and not break-
ing the subject into trivial divisions and subdivisions, is said to have a just
knowledge of the chiaro oscuro, or to produce a great effect. The chiaro
oscuro is, therefore, the art of distributing the lights and shades of all
objects whatever ; not merely as they would fall in any natural objects, but
they are to be placed in such a manner as to give the greatest life, force,
and strength to the piece, when viewed altogether, and considered as a
whole. It is only by a judicious opposition and heightening of lights
and shades, by accurate and careful degradation of tints, glazings, re-
flexions, and smart touches of the pencil, that the painter can give that
relief to his subjects, which will convey the ideas of roundness and pro-
jection; or produce the appearance of recession, interval, and distance.
To excel in the chiaro oscuro the painter should know both how to
collect and manage his lights, and also to make them support each other.
If a piece have ever so many lights and shades, and they be broken and
subdivided into small parts, without being judiciously opposed to each
other, they will no more relieve the objects they accompany than do the
chequers of a draft-board; but if the relative parts are harmonised and
assembled, shade to shade, and light to light, they form a powerful com-
bination, on which the eye, as well as the mind, dwells with pleasure.
A staring white relieved by an intense black, or a black accompanied
with white, may produce a certain harsh force, and a species of effect,
but can never impart that satisfaction to the observer, which arises from
a view of harmonised lights and shades. This can be effected only by
the introduction of gradatory tints, which fill up the intervals between
the extremes, and temper and accommodate the lights and shadows to
each other; whereby they are rendered more pleasing; and the disa-
greeable effect of sudden and violent contrast destroyed.
In a word,
collection, union, and combination, form the first principles of the chiaro
oscuro. The chiaro oscuro also demands support. As every subject re-
quires a different mode of treatment, any particular rules for the dispo-
sition of lights would be nugatory. It may, in general, be observed,
that one light in particular should preside, and claim a superiority over
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shades: there should be at least three lights: the secondary lights should,
for the sake of harmony and union, be nearly equal in brightness,
though not in magnitude, with the principal: and though it be gene-
rally directed, that the principal light be placed in the middle of the
piece, the student must beware of understanding the term in a strict
mathematical sense; for if the centre of this light fall exactly in the cen-
tre of the piece it will produce a stiff and ungraceful effect. The strength
of the principal light should fall near rather than in the middle of the
picture: it should catch and be diversified chiefly round its principal
union and its brightness should be embellished by placing near it the
attendant and circumjacent shadows. In order to judge whether or not
a piece be well executed, with regard to the chiaro oscuro, it should be
examined at such a distance that the subject cannot be distinguished,
when it should form an agreeable mixture or correspondence of lights
and shadows: on a nearer approach it should, by its force and power-
ful relief, attract the eye of the spectator, and fix his attention so as to
induce him to investigate and examine its composition and management.
If it have this effect, it may reasonably be concluded it possesses all, or
most, of the requisites of the chiaro oscuro.
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"The means," says Sir Joshua Reynolds, " by which the painter
works, and on which the effect of his picture depends, are light and
shade, warm and cold colours: that there is an art in the management
and disposition of those means will be easily granted, and it is equally
certain that this art is to be acquired by a careful examination of the
works of those who have excelled in it. I shall here set down the re-
sult of the observations which I have made on the works of those artists
who appear to have best understood the management of light and shade,
and who may be considered as examples for imitation in this branch of
the art. Titian, Paul Veronese, and Tintoret, were among the first
painters who reduced to a system what was before practised without any
fixed principle, and consequently neglected occasionally. From the
Venetian painters Rubens extracted his scheme of composition, which
was soon understood and adopted by his countrymen, and extended even
to the minor painters of familiar life in the Dutch school. When I was
at Venice the method I took to avail myself of their principles was:-
When I observed an extraordinary effect of light and shade in any pic-
ture, I took a leaf of my pocket-book, and darkened every part of it in
the same gradation of light and shade as the picture, leaving the white
paper untouched, to represent the light, and this, without any attention
to the subject, or to the drawing of the figures. A few trials of this
kind will be sufficient to give the method of their conduct in the ma-
nagement of their lights. After a few trials I found the paper blotted
nearly alike; their general practice appeared to be, to allow not above a
quarter of the picture for the light, including in this portion both the
principal and secondary lights: another quarter to be as dark as
possible; and the remaining half kept in mezzotint, or half shadow.
Rubens appears to have admitted rather more light than a quarter; and
Rembrandt much less, scarce an eighth; by this conduct Rembrandt's
light is extremely brilliant, but it costs too much; the rest of the pic-
ture is sacrificed to this one subject. That light will certainly appear
the brightest which is surrounded with the greatest quantity of shade,
supposing equal skill in the artist. By these means you may likewise
remark the various forms and shapes of these lights, as well as the ob


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jects on which they are flung, whether on a figure, or the sky, on a
white napkin, on animals, or utensils, often introduced for this purpose
only: it may be observed likewise, what portion is strongly relieved,
and how much is united with its ground, for it is necessary that some
part (though a small one is sufficient) should be sharp and cutting
against its ground, whether it be light on a dark, or dark on a light
ground, in order to give firmness and distinction to the work; if, on
the other hand, it is relieved on every side, it will appear as if inlaid on
its ground. Such a blotted paper, held at a distance from the eye, will
strike the spectator as something excellent for the disposition of light
and shadow, though he does not distinguish whether it is a history, a
portrait, a landscape, dead game, or any thing else, for the same prin-
ciples extend to every branch of the art." The highest finishing is la-
bour in vain, unless at the same time there be preserved a breadth of
light and shadow: it is a quality, therefore, that is more frequently re-
commended to students, and insisted upon, than any other whatever :
and, perhaps, for this reason, because it is most apt to be neglected, the
attention of the artist being so often entirely absorbed in the detail.
Gradation of colours, or keeping, as it is called by artists, is that
principle which directs the strongest and most powerful colours to be
placed where the principal effect should fall, and withheld from all ac-
cessory and inferior parts, which should, consequently, have weaker
tints, and thereby be kept down and softened. This rule forms a part
of aerial perspective; and is regulated by the same laws as are observed
in the chiaro oscuro.
"
✓
The next rule in colouring is to preserve union, and consequently pro-
duce harmony. This is effected only by a judicious selection, systema-
tical arrangement, and scientific natural situation of colours; which, like
the other branches of the art, are not to be attained but by an attentive
observation of both nature and art, united with a persevering industry.
The general principles of colouring are nearly the same in whatever sub-
ject the painter attempts. For example: if the effect of a piece be required
to fall in the centre of the picture, (as is generally the case) this part must
be the seat of the hero or principal object; here must also be the strongest
light and shadows; the strongest colours; the greatest force; the great-
est veracity; and, in a word, it is the seat of whatever tends to make the
picture conspicuous. It may be considered as the focus of a lens, where
all the rays unite with their greatest force; and from which, as they di-
verge towards the extremities of the picture, they gradually weaken, till
they become lost, or nearly so, in the ground: the lights, colours, force,
and every other effective principle, gradually declining, according to their
distances from the centre, and their approximation to the boundaries of
the picture. It is not, however, to be understood, that this declension of
light, colours, &c. so uniformly prevails as to admit of no exception ; on
the contrary, the principal light should always be made to catch on
some adjacent objects, on which it suddenly revives and shines, but yet
in strict subordination to the light of the principal object: the same is to
be observed of the principal colour, which, on many surrounding ob-
jects, often shines with a refulgence nearly equal to that of the principal
subject of the picture. To produce effect in colouring, the learner must
be acquainted with the nature of colours, with regard to sympathy and
antipathy; warm or mellow and cold colours. By the judicious ma-
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pathetic colours are those allied in their tones, as brown and dark red;
yellow, orange, flesh colour, &c. Sympathetic colours always produce
union or harmony, but destroy variety. Antipathetic, or opposite co-
lours, are those which are contrary in their tones, as blue and red; yel-
low and brown; these colours contribute to force and variety, but ex-
clude union or harmony.. Warm colours are all those which bear a cer-
tain modified resemblance to the effect of sunshine: which being of a
bright glowing yellow, indicates all colours, nearly allied to it in tone,
to be warm also; on the contrary, blue is accounted the coldest of all
colours, and is, for that reason, the most difficult to introduce and ma-
nage successfully: consequently, green, and all other colours approach-
ing to blue, are of a cold nature. Blue, however, though so difficult a
colour to use with success, is very useful to the painter: as it produces,
with others, more force, variety, and contrast, than any other tint.
There are four principal modes of producing harmony of colours, each
of which has its partizans, and its peculiar excellencies and defects. The
first partakes of the Roman manner: the colours are laid on in a full
and strong body, as may be seen in all the best works of that school:
a very good specimen of this kind is Raphael's famous piece the Trans-
figuration. The second method of harmonising the colours may be call-
ed the Bolognian style; it is produced by what ancient painters called,
corruption of the colours; that is, by mixing and breaking them, till there
was a general union in the whole, and nothing left in the piece which
could give the least idea of the original colours on the pallet from which
those were formed. The next manner is called the Venetian, being first
practised in that school: but it is seen to more perfection, and learnt
with far greater advantage, in the works of Rubens. Here the bright-
est colours possible are admitted, as also the two extremes of warm and
cold colours: these are reconciled by being dispersed over every part of
the picture, till the whole appears at a distance, with regard to colour,
like a bunch of flowers. It is evident that, if any preference be given
to either of these methods, this decidedly claims it; as it is the manner
adopted by that great colourist Titian. Simply considered, with re-
gard to its colours, it produces a splendour of effect which eclipses what-
ever is brought into competition with it; and has always ranked high-
est in the estimation of all able critics. The last method is that adopted
by Guido, and followed with great success by many artists of the Dutch
school, particularly the younger Vandevelde, and the younger Teniers.
This manner is distinguished by a silvery grey, or pearly tint, which is
predominant over the whole piece. The pictures of this style are always
valued by the critics in proportion as they possess this silvery tint The
cleanness, neatness, and delicacy of this mode of colouring, perfectly
correspond with the subjects of Guido, who generally chose, and more
particularly succeeded, in those subjects which abounded with female
figures, angels, and children: and to these pearly tints the exquisite
beauty of his pieces is much indebted.



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To produce force, solidity, and strength, some part of the picture
should be as light, and some part as dark, as possible. These two ex-
tremes are then to be harmonised and reconciled to each other, by a pro-
per introduction of gradatory tints and demi-tints. Rubens has left us
two examples of this rule, in two pieces; one in the cabinet of the Duke
of Rutland, and the other in the chapel of Rubens at Antwerp, which
serves as his monument. In both pictures is a female figure, dressed
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in black satin, with shadows as dark as pure black can make them, but
opposed to the extreme of brightness. Both pieces are eminent for
their force and brilliancy of effect, and furnish a striking illustration
of this rule. Though colouring, considered, as it really is, a mechanical
part of the art, may seem not to deserve so great a share of the painter's
attention; yet, when we reflect what effects colours are able to produce
on the minds of both the uninformed observer and the critic, the young
painter will be convinced that its study is, in a manner, indispensable.
When he reflects that they give the picture its general air at first view,
and arrest the spectator's attention as he passes along the gallery, or
escape his notice from their insipidity, he will no longer hesitate to be-
stow that study upon them requisite for the completion of his art. He
must avoid all trifling or artful play of little lights; as also an introduc-
tion of a variety of superfluous tints: a quietness and simplicity must
reign over the whole work, which can only be effected by a breadth of
uniform and simple colour. It is true, grandeur of effect may be pro-
duced by two different and nearly opposite methods: one is, by reduc-
ing the colours to little more than chiaro oscuro, as was the practice of
the Bolognian school; the other is, by making the colours very distinct
and forcible, like those of Rome and Florence; but still the presiding
principle, in both these modes, and the cause of their success, is sim-
plicity. Nothing is more simple than monotony; and the distinct blue,
red, and the other colours in the draperies of the Roman and Floren-
tine schools, though destitute of that harmony produced by a variety
of broken and transparent colours, yet possess that effect of grandeur
required; and strike the mind more forcibly than if they were harmo-
nized by a greater number of tints; as martial music rouses the nobler
passions by the sudden and strongly marked transitions from one note
to another, while the softer passions are called forth by the melody of
notes more united in their sound.



The great effect we observe in the works of the Venetian painters is
produced by a circumstance which has been overlooked by most of the
painters of the Roman and Florentine schools, as well as by many
other artists: namely, that of making the principal masses of light of a
warm mellow colour, yellow, red, or a yellowish white; not permitting
the blue, grey, or green colour to appear in these masses, but to use a
very small proportion of them only, to set off and support the warm co-
lours. If this practice be not followed, the best colours, even in the
hands of a Titian or a Rubens, will never produce harmony or splen-
dour.
We have several instances of artists, eminent for academical merit,
who have failed through inattention to this precept. Carlo Maratti
and Le Brun were both deficient in their management of their colours.
This is the chief cause of that heaviness of effect in their works. In the
Tent of Darius by Le Brun, the principal light in the picture falls on
Statira, who is very judiciously dressed in a pale blue drapery; and
though this coldness be heightened with gold, yet it by no means en-
livens the piece, which still possesses a heavy air; and does not answer
the expectation raised by viewing the work. Neither did Poussin study
a harmony of colouring, and grandeur of effect; for he often made a
spot of blue drapery to receive the light, when the general hue of the
picture was inclinable to brown or yellow.
Many of the Dutch and Flemish painters used white for the principal
PAINTING.
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light of the picture; but it is more conformable to nature, and has a far
better effect, to make the principal light of a warm colour, like white
illuminated by the rays of the setting sun. This was the practice of
Titian. The beauty of this manner never appears more striking, than
when, in a collection of pictures, we see one of Titian's portraits hang-
ing by the side of a Flemish picture, (even though it should be the pro-
duction of Vandyke) which always becomes cold and grey in the com
parison. This method is a just imitation of nature, where the illumi❤
nated parts of objects are of a warmer tint than those in the shade. It
is, therefore, only presenting to the eye the same effect it has been
accustomed to feel, and which, in that case, (as in every other) never
fails of producing that beauty which gives pleasure to every be
holder.
?
One precept, in particular, with regard to his lights, the painter must
not overlook, and which has been before mentioned, under the other
branches of the art; namely, that he do not copy nature too servilely.
It is often necessary, that either his principal lights or shades should
be lighter or darker than they appear in natural objects. Truth must
sometiines be sacrificed to art, to produce force, harmony, and effect.
An artist must ever hold a balance in his hand, to determine the value
of different qualities, that when some error must be committed, he may
chuse the least. A part must often be sacrificed for the good of the
whole. Rubens has left us a remarkable instance of this conduct in a
picture of a moon-light scene. He has not only diffused more light
over the picture than prevails in nature, but has given it those warm
and. glowing colours, which distinguish all his other pieces. It is so
unlike what other painters have given us of moon-light, that, were it
not for the stars he has added, it might be easily mistaken for the light
of a fainter setting sun. Had he made it more natural, he must havė
destroyed the harmony proceeding from contrast and variety of colours:
and he judiciously supposed that the eye should be satisfied, above
every other consideration. The moon also does not possess so great
superiority of light over the objects it illuminates as it does in nature.
This is another mark of the pure taste of Rubens: had he preserved
the same gradation of light between the moon and the objects, as ob-
tains in nature, the picture must have consisted of one small spot of
light only, and, at a little distance from the piece, nothing but this spot
would have been seen. For the same reason, namely, to produce force
and effect, the greater part of the colours of a picture must sometimes
be kept down, in order to heighten others, by contrast, to a greater
degree than colours could otherwise bear. This is the case in repre-
senting armour, and other shining substances; where we have no other
pigment but pure white, to imitate the greatest light of shining ob-
jects: this would never preserve a due superiority over the flesh-co-
lour, were this colour not kept down to a very low tint. But this ef
fect of art (like all others) may be carried too far, as was done by
Rembrandt, in a picture of Achilles, where, in order to preserve a due
gradation, between the lustre of the armour and the face of the warrior,
the colours of the whole picture are lowered to that degree, and the
picture rendered so black, that it cannot be seen without a peculiar
light, and even then with difficulty.



"The art of colouring" says a French writer on painting," is much
more difficult than is usually supposed: during three hundred years
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PAINTING.

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since painting has been revived, hardly more than eight or ten masters
have been excellent colourists. Perhaps also the infinite variety in
cluded in the necessary objects and models of study, precludes the esta-
blishment of rules and directions on this art.
"Shall we enquire if Titian had better eyes than others? or had he
formed to himself superior rules? If by rules he attained his merit, may
not those who tread in his steps derive great advantages from the study
of his works, from attentive and judicious observations upon them?
But for this effect is requisite an attentive disposition of mind, and an
aptitude to penetrate the true causes of those effects we admire. How
many painters have copied Titian many years, seemingly with their ut-
most abilities, who yet have never understood the skill and delicacy of
the colouring in this great master! The painter, born for the art, flies
with his own wings, and liberates himself from bad habits; but it must
be acknowledged that a great master is no less rare than a great hero,
his natural genius having to surmount all obstacles.


"The truth of colouring consists not in giving to objects precisely
the true and exact colour they possess in nature; but to contrive so that
they shall seem to have it; because artificial colours not possessing the
strength and truth of those in nature, the painter's must be rendered
equal, by comparison between themselves; whether by weakening some,
or by strengthening others. The artist who wishes to imitate the co-
lours of nature, should vary his colouring according to the subject, to
the time of the day, the moment of the action, and scene of the picture;
for the whole tone of the piece ought to agree with the action. If the
subject be joyful, let the colouring be gay; but melancholy and sombre,
if the subject be terrible, or afflictive. Although it may be admitted,
generally, that a painter is master of his effects; and, like a musi
cian, who plays a solo, may give what pitch he pleases to his instrument;
yet it is equally true, that painters (especially landscape painters)
ought to adhere to certain rules, independent of their caprice. The
times of the day, morning, and evening; clear weather, or rainy; fog
or sunshine; do not present the same tone of colours, in the same ob-
'jects, but vary their brilliancy and splendour. The more serene is the
weather, the clearer and brighter are the colours; rainy and hazy weather
deprives them of their force. When evening approaches, all nature
seems to feel very sensibly the absence of the sun, and, as if it re-
gretted the separation, its colours become feeble and languid; they
van'sh with him, revive at his return, and augment as he approaches
the zenith.

•
There is another auxiliary, from which the young painter may de-
rive considerable aid in his knowledge of the chiaro oscuro, in his dis-
play of it to advantage, in faithfully representing the colours of his ob-
jects, and the actions of those in motion; namely the camera obscura,
or darkened chamber. A very superficial knowledge of dioptrics will
enable the student to discover the principles and effects of this simple
but useful machine; of which a general notion is given in Optics,
page 89.
OF DRAPERY. Many great artists, whose works have met with ge-
neral approbation, have never condescended to distinguish the different
kinds of drapery. With them the clothing is neither woollen, nor linen,
nor silk, satin, nor velvet; it is clothing and nothing more. It is
the inferior style of painting only that marks the variety of stuffs. The
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art of disposing of the folds of drapery, so that they shall have an easy
communication, and gracefully follow each other, with such natural
negligence, as to look like the effect of chance, and at the same time
shew the figure under them to the utmost advantage, requires the
nicest judgment; and makes a very considerable part of the painter's
study.
A
It was the opinion of Carlo Maratti, that the disposition of drapery
was a more difficult part of the art than that of drawing a human
figure; as the rules for delineating it could not be so well ascertained,
as those for drawing a correct form: consequently a student, he said,
might be more easily taught, the latter than the former. It would be
presumptuous to contradict so great an artist in his opinion of that par-
ticular branch of his practice in which he claimed his chief excellence.
Yet it must be confessed, by his artificial management of the subject,
(which is too apparent) he is inferior to Raphael even in this particular.
Nevertheless, a judicious display of drapery is an excellence somewhat
rare; and, perhaps, for this reason that, in common with many other
parts of the art, it is not to be attained by a mechanical and slavish at-
tention to rules, but by a correct taste and just knowledge of truth
and nature.
As the just delineation of the folds in drapery depends on a suc-
cessful display of the chiaro oscuro, the student must, by all means,
render himself perfect in giving relief to his figures; for every fold,
to make it appear natural, must be properly relieved with shade.
Drapery is not so much intended to conceal the figure, as to discover
the form of the members it covers: and as the inequalities of a sur-
face are discoverable by the inequalities of the water that runs over it,
so the posture and shape of the members must be discernable by the
folds of the garment that covers them. This remark serves to shew us
the absurdity of those painters who have loaded their figures with a
great mass of drapery, abounding with a multitude of superfluous folds
and needless windings, so that the whole appears a mere bundle of
clothing, from under which the body has fled. It should also indicate
though not too minutely, the quality and nature of the stuff of which
it is formed. The great success of some artists in draping their figures
was, in a great measure, the consequence of their practice, quite dif-
ferent from that at present followed. They first drew the naked figure,
and clothed it afterwards: those who proceeded on a similiar prin-
ciple, succeeded also equally well in displaying the several joints,
members, and muscles of the human body: these first drew the ske-
letons of their figures, and afterwards added the muscles, and clothed
them with flesh. It is not meant to recommend the revival of this
practice to modern students, it would engross too much time; and is
so unlike the present mode of painting, that the young artist must
pursue the solitary path alone; and could, perhaps, meet with no as-
sistance, or even advice, in the course of his progress, should he ever
find himself involved in a difficulty. Nevertheless for the young artist
who is not startled at obstacles, a few examples of this nature would
not be time lost; provided he have acquired some facility in draw-
ing, or at least in sketching outlines. The practice would, at least,
give him more permanent ideas of the rationale of drapery and design,
as well as of the expression of the muscles and joints of the human
figure, than perhaps twice as much time spent in mere copying. But
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PAINTING.
one caution is absolutely necessary: those admired relics of antiquity,
the Greek statues, are by no means proper models for the student's imi-
tation in this part of his studies. It is certain the ancient sculptors
clothed their statues with truth and grace, as appears from many of
them still extant: but it must be remarked, that they seem always to
have supposed their originals clothed with wet garments, and those of
a very fine and delicate texture, which, consequently, clinging to the
parts of the body, shewed, in a great measure, the natural shape of the
members. A loose garment, abounding with folds, can never be justly
represented in stone. The various windings and folds would appear
mere rocks of stone; and, instead of imparting grace or beauty to the
figures, would perfectly destroy both. In this respect, therefore, paint-
ing and sculpture are very different: in the former, the folds, however
flowing or numerous, can always be pourtrayed, and the true form of
the figure seen under them. Should the painter habituate himself to
drape his figures from the ancient statues, he will contract a dry and
hard style; and fall into an error which has been committed by some
great masters, who, from accustoming themselves always to drape with
very light stuffs, which sit close to the body, have afterwards treated the
coarsest articles of drapery in the same manner, so as even to exhibit
the muscles which lie underneath them.
The best and only models for acquiring just ideas of drapery, are na-
ture herself, and, as preparatory thereto, the paintings of those modern
masters, who have pourtrayed her with the greatest truth in this branch.
The principal of these are Raphael, Paul Veronese, Andrea del Sarto,
Rubens, Guido Reni, and Albert Durer. These artists excelled parti-
cularly in giving a graceful flow to their draperies, displaying the form
of the wearers body, and distinguishing the particular kinds of clothing.
The flow of their drapery is soft and gentle; the gatherings and plaits
are so contrived, as not only not to hide the body, but to add to it grace
and dignity. The quality of their clothing, whether linen, silk, woollen,
or any other article, is as readily distinguished by the form and flow of
the folds, the light and shade of the clothing, and its lustre, as the age
and sex of the figures are known by their countenances.
It may appear superfluous to inform the student that the drapery
should correspond to the age, character, and nation of the wearer.
Common sense alone would convince him of the absurdity of attiring an
ancient Grecian or Roman, in the habiliments of a modern English gen-
tleman; or of omitting to furnish a magistrate with his robes; or of
describing the natives of the South Sea islands with the redundant
dresses of Europeans. These are the extremes of improbability: other
deviations from, truth are more easily committed, and less liable to
detection. It is not recommended to the student to permit the cos-
tume of his drapery to occupy all his attention; it is sufficient if it
come within the general laws of probability: for example, in pourtray-
ing a senator of Rome, all that is. requisite is, that he be draped in
the robes of that order of men, as generally worn at the time when
the republic was in its most flourishing state, without adverting, in
this respect, to the precise age in which the senator lived, and con-
sequently to the trifling variations which ever-changing fashion is con-
tinually imposing. The general play of the drapery, and form of the
folds, should plainly indicate whether the figure be at rest or in action;
and if in action, whether that action be beginning or ending; whether
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slow, or quick, or violent: if we observe the flow of drapery in natural
objects, we shall soon acquire just ideas of the matter. As we move
in a resisting medium, namely the air, which ever way we move, the
drapery will flow the other way, more or less, and that in proportion as
our motion is quicker or slower; as the wind, more or less, counteracts
our progress; and as our drapery is, more or less, light and flowing.
In ascending an eminence the drapery is uniformly pressed downwards
by the weight of the superior air; but, on the contrary, in descending,
it is supported and extended by a similar resistance.
A penurious scantiness, and superfluous redundancy of drapery, are,
equally injurious to the great style. The figures of some great masters
appear as if the artist, through mere poverty, had grudged them cloth-
ing; while others, as Albano said of Guido, perhaps too severely, are
rather tailors than painters. The foregoing rules will be more clearly
illustrated by the example of one of the greatest masters of drapery,
who, undoubtedly, excelled all others in that ideal beauty to which this
part of the art is so much indebted. Raphael imitated at first his mas
ter Perugino's manner of drapery; and he brought this manner to per-
fection by studying the works of Masaccio, and of Bartholomeo ; but he
departed entirely from the taste of the school in which he was educated,
when he had seen the works of the ancients. It was the basso relievo
of antiquity which pointed out to him the true flowing of drapery, and
he was not backward to introduce it. He discovered, by attending to
the principles of the ancients, that the nudo or naked is the principal
part; that drapery is to be regarded altogether as an accessory, and that
it is intended to cover, not to conceal; that it is employed from necessity,
not caprice; that of consequence the clothes should not be so narrow
as to constrain the members, nor so ample as to embarrass them; but
that the artist should adapt them to the size and attitude of the figures
intended to wear them. He understood that the great folds should be
placed on the broad places of the body; and where the nature of the
drapery required small folds, that it was necessary to give them a pro-
jection, which indicates a subordination to the principal parts.
OF DISPOSITION. When the painter he chosen the subject of his
intended work, his peculiar skill appears by the, manner in which he
narrates, if we may so speak, the circumstances of the story. The poet
and the historian have, in some respects, great advantages over the
painter, in being able to prepare the mind of their reader, by a gradual
and natural display of such events and accidents as lead him to a full
comprehension of the subject handled. The painter, on the other hand,
is restricted to one particular action of his story, to absolute unity of
time and place. It is therefore, incumbent on him to fix on that parti-
cular point of his subject which affords the most natural opportunity,
not only of expressing his main scope itself, but of conveying to the
spectator an idea of the circumstances which preceded and followed it.
Invention must, therefore, be a most important point in the science of
painting: and without an excellence in this part of the art, no man can
ever rise to the reputation of a great painter. By invention it is not
meant to express the discovery and representation, on canvas, of the
truth of all circumstances as they actually took place in the scene pre-
sented to the eye, but only all such as are probable. By this probabi-
lity may be introduced whatever is intimately connected with the sub-
ject, and likewise whatever, by its sublimity or beauty, may be most
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PAINTING.
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capable of exciting the desired feelings in the mind of the spectator, and
force him, in some degree, to forget that it is only a representation, and
not the reality of the subject. As in imitating nature, we are by no
means to take any individual object, as it really exists in nature around
us, for our model; but to select, from the whole species of objects, all
such particulars as possess the greatest excellence: so in the arrangement
of a piece of painting, we are to choose and draw together whatever cir-
cumstances or allusions may seem to have the most powerful tendency
to convey to the observer those sensations and ideas which we desire to
excite. It is the business, nay, the duty, of the naturalist and histo-
rian, to represent objects and facts correctly and precisely as they exist.
or occur, with all their blemishes or imperfections: but the painter, who
ought to be an ideal historian, resembles the poet, who does not copy
but imitates the objects with which he is conversant: that is, he works
by his imagination, and represents objects and events with all the per-
fection of which the species is susceptible. This proceeding is deeply
rooted in our nature. By habit we come to associate certain ideas to-
gether, which have not always a necessary connection with each other.
The painter must, therefore, be most careful to present no object nor
feature to the spectator, which, by these associations, can recal to his
mind sensations either contrary, or merely foreign to the great scope of
his piece, at the same time that he introduces all such circumstances as
are calculated to produce the effects he has in view. Here La belle Na-
ture, as the French call it ; nature methodised and made perfect must be
his guide. Hence, circumstances of the subject exalted to the highest
degree of beauty and sublimity of which they are susceptible, although
they never really happened, are fully entitled to appear in the works of
the painter of genius and taste. It is in this part of their several arts
that the poet (or maker, as he was formerly very properly termed, and
as the word signifies in the Greek) and the painter resemble each other:
and they are both enabled to throw into their productions more of the
spirit of philosophic instruction and entertainment than the historian.
In the composition of their works the ancient poets and painters had
many advantages over the moderns, from their mythological system,
which warranted the introduction of supernatural beings, not only alle-
gorically, but as real actors in the scenes described and represented: a
practice which gave a wonderful animation to their productions, and a
facility in conveying to the minds of their admirers the precise concep-
tion it was their wish to excite. So far were their gods from being im-
mortal, and placed at an infinite distance from their worshippers; so far
was their religion from recommending humility and self-denial; that,
on the contrary, it appeared calculated merely to flatter the senses, to
inflame the passions, and to poison the imagination. Besides, their
deities were in a manner visible, and to be met with at every step. The
sea was crowded with Tritons and Nereids, the rivers with Naiads, the
the mountains with Dryads, and the woods and fields with Nymphs and
Fauns. The most powerful empires, the most noble families, the most
celebrated heroes, all derived their origin from one or other of their di-
vinities: nay, the gods themselves took a visible interest, and frequently
mingled in the concerns of men. By the use of this machinery the
ancients had a command of the imagination, which no modern artists
can hope to attain. There have not been wanting, however, many mas-
ters of invention even among the moderns. Michael Angelo, as did his
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predecessors in the art, Phidias and Apelles, enriched his productions by
hints and ideas collected from the greatest poets, and threw into his works
an animation, an expression, a language, if we may so speak, which has
never been equalled. Raphael, by a similar process, directed by his own
exquisite judgment and taste, has exalted nature as it were above her-
self, by giving her an aspect more beautiful, more animating, more sub-
lime, than she is really accustomed to wear. Dominichino and Annibal
Carracci come very dear to Raphael, in many of their pieces, in point of
invention; and Poussin, in some of his works, as for instance, in his
pictures of Esther before Ahasuerus, and the Death of Germanicus, has
shown himself to be very great in the same qualification. But however
ingeniously a piece may be imagined, that is, with what skill soever the
painter may have arranged in his imagination the attitudes and coun-
tenances of the characters in his piece; if these figures are not arranged
and situated in the picture, in such a manner as to contribute in the
highest degree to the unfolding of his design, and to the production of
delight in the spectator, he has done but half his duty.
The disposition of the several parts of a picture ought to be such as
to express, in the most lively and obvious way, what the invention of
the artist has provided. The chief difficulty in disposition is to produce
the most artful and ingenious arrangement, at the same time that art
shall be utterly imperceptible, and that the whole shall seem to be mere-
ly the result of accident. A painter, therefore, must beware of imitat-
ing the dry formal manner practised by the earliest modern artists, on
the revival of painting; for they generally arranged their figures like so
many couples in a procession: neither must he follow the example of
still more modern artists, particularly of the French school, who, unable
to express in the genuine language of unsophisticated nature, the pas-
sions and feelings of their figures, have represented them in a state of
the utmost disorder and fluttering agitation; as if they were brought to-
gether for no other purpose but to quarrel and fight. It was one of the
admirable qualities of Raphael, that he not only was able to'shake off
the yoke of education and prejudice, early contracted, and in some mea-
sure consecrated by his respect for his old master, Pietro Perugino, but
also possessed so much true taste and knowledge of human nature, as to
stop at the due medium between formal frigidity and extravagant atti-
tude and caricatural expression. The disposition of his figures seems al-
ways, to the observer of taste, to be precisely what it ought to be, and
correctly suited to the subject of the painting.
As in a dramatic or epic poem, or in a romance, there must be some
hero or heroine, who sustains the principal part in the conduct of the
piece, and to whom all the other parts, however subordinate, bear a
due relation; so in painting there must be one principal figure which
must arrest the eye and observation of the spectator, and to whom all
the other figures must appear to be more or less subservient.
This effect may be produced in a variety of ways; as by placing the
figure in the front, or some other conspicuous part of the picture: by
exhibiting it, in a manner, by itself; by making the chief body of light
to fall upon it; by giving it the most splendid and brilliant drapery; or,
indeed, by two, more, or all of these methods together. Painters should
follow the example of the best dramatic writers, who have generally
composed their fable of the smallest possible number of persons; for
nothing is so injurious to picturesque effect in painting, nor to dramatic
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consistency on the stage, as the presence of figures or persons not ne-
cessarily connected with the matter represented, and whose appearance
there is not obviously and necessarily required. Besides that a crowded
picture is apt to give equal trouble to the spectator as a crowded road
to the traveller; both are embarrassed and perplexed, and their atten-
tion is distracted from the main object of their pursuit. Some subjects,
however, from their nature require a greater number, nay, even a mul-
titude of characters; but still, in these, the figures are to be assembled
in groups or masses, in different gradations, all indicating their subor-
dinate relation to one principal group or mass, which ought to occupy,
in the composition, a place corresponding to that of the principal figure
or personage in a piece where but few figures are introduced. In break-
ing a composition into groups, the object is, that the eye, in passing
from one object to another, may, with the greatest ease, comprehend the
whole, by having a distinct classification and conception of the com-
ponent parts. These groups must be put together with such skill as to
coalesce in clusters, and these clusters again to unite in one whole, that
there may be no contrariety in the grand scope of the piece; and that
éven when seen from a distance, the observer may be able to discover
the subject represented. Nothing contributes more to this distinction
of groups than a due attention to the nature and effects of the several
colours employed; so as not to bring together such as excite pain, by
their marked opposition one to another, or distract our attention by an
affected diversity. When chiaro oscuro is judiciously introduced, it is
of great service, in distributing the groups and masses of a large paint-
ing into their proper situations; and by the strong falls of shade, gives
a grand effect to the whole composition. This method has been very
successfully followed by Rembrandt, in a picture of the Virgin at the
foot of the cross; in which the light darts in full splendour on her,
through a break in the clouds, while all the other figures are more or
less in the shade. Tintoret also was highly valued for his skill in en-
livening his figures, by the effects of strong light and shade: and Poly-
dore da Carvaggio was famous for his management of the chiaro oscuro
in his bas-reliefs.
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By means of the expression of the different degrees of light and co-
tour of bodies, arising from their own shape, and their position with re-
spect to other bodies and to the eye, and by what is called aerial per-
spective, or the art of giving a due diminution or gradation to the
strength of light, shade, and colour of objects, according to their differ-
ent distances, the quantity of light falling upon them, and the medium
through which they are seen: and by carefully studying nature, and
the works of her best imitators, the artist will be enabled, not only to
separate his groups, but to make them appear at different distances, so
as to leave proper intervals and passages between them.
On the subject of disposition, it may be in general remarked, that
action is the principal requisite in a subject for history painting; and
that there are many subjects, which, though very interesting to the
reader, would make no figure in representation. Such are those sub-
jects which consist in a long series of action, the parts of which have
very
close dependency each on the other; or where any remarkable point or
turn of verbal expression makes a part of the excellence of the story; or
again, where it has its effect from allusion to circumstances not actually
present. An instance of this kind of subject is given by Sir Joshua

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Reynolds, as having been recommended to a painter by a very distinguish-
ed person, but who, as it appears, was but little conversant with painting.
It was what is related, in Dalrymple's Memoirs of Great Britain, to have
passed between James II. and the old Earl of Bedford, in the council
held just before the revolution. This is, doubtless, a very striking piece
of history; but so far from being a proper subject for a picture, that it
possesses not one necessary qualification. It marks no general or in-
telligible action or passion: it has a retrospect to other circumstances in
history of a very complicated nature: and it is necessarily deficient in
that variety of heads, forms, ages, sexes, draperies, &c. which some-
times, by good management, supply, by picturesque effect, the want of
real interest in a history. The invention of a painter consists, not in
inventing the subject, but in a capacity for forming the subject in his
imagination, in a way best suited to his art, although it be wholly bor-
rowed from poets, historians, or popular tradition. For this purpose he
has full as much, perhaps more, to do than if the story itself were in-
vented: for he is bound to follow the ideas he has received, and to
translate them, as it were, into the language of another art. In this
translation lies the painter's invention. He must, in a manner, new-cast
the whole, and model it in his own imagination. Having received an
idea of the pathetic and grand, in expression, he is next to consider how
to make it correspond with what is touching and awful to the eye. This
is a business by itself; and here begins the proper invention of the pain-
ter, which includes not only the composition, or putting the whole to-
gether, and the disposition of each individual part, but also the manage-
ment of the back-ground, the effect of light and shade, and the attitude
of every figure or animal introduced, or making a part of the whole.
Composition is, therefore, the chief part of the painter's invention, and
by far the greatest difficulty he has to encounter. Every man who can
paint at all, can execute individual parts: but to keep those parts in
due subordination, as relative to the whole, requires a comprehensive
view of the art, that more strongly implies the possession of genius than,
perhaps, any other quality whatever.
4
OF ILLUSION AND DECEPTION. It is a maxim universally received
among painters, and held up for the guidance of young artists, that they
are to imitate nature, and that objects are to be represented so naturally
as to seem real. If we enquire to what extent painting may carry this
illusion, it will be found that it deceives the eye so much, that the spec-
tator is sometimes obliged to apply his hand, as in moulding, and bas-
relief, in order to come at the truth. This deception may be properly
employed in representations of fruits, flowers, and other parts of what
is called still life; when so placed, that they can only be seen from par-
ticular points of view, and at certain distances. But no picture, con-
taining a number of figures, and properly situated, was ever mistaken
for real life. It is true that the portrait of a person, done by Coypel,
and placed in a certain direction behind a table, is said to have so
completely deceived a number of people, that they saluted it, taking it
to be the person whom it represented; but, independently of the skill
in the execution of the piece, it is clear that the chief part of the illusion
arose from the circumstances of surprise and inattention in the specta.
tors; effects which might, in such a case, have been produced by very
inferior artists. ~~ This species of illusion, however, would be vain, and
ouglit never to be attempted in comvositions consisting of many figures,
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supposed to be situated at different, and even considerable distances,
from each other. There are many obstacles opposed to the perfection
of this branch of painting, of which some, and those the most powerful,
arise from our manner of thinking and judging on other occasions.
These, together with the perception we have of the effects of light, on
surfaces and colours of various sorts, never fail to convince us, that the
scenes before us are merely representations, and not realities. Distance,
figure, and magnitude, are not originally objects of our knowledge by the
sight: for we only judge of these qualities of objects by experience and
associations early formed in the mind; and are satisfied with the skill of
the painter, when he lays his colours on the plain surface of the canvas,
in such a manner, that the rays of light are reflected from it, as they
would be, from the varied surface of the body imitated, to a spectator
placed in a proper situation. Illusion in painting must always be im-
perfect, from the impossibility of rendering with truth, the shades
which distinguish the most distant parts of the picture. These can only
be imitated by obscure colours, on a plain surface, and all susceptible of
reflecting light, according to their real distance from the eye: but our
eye gives us the true plane of this surface, in opposition to the idea of
distance which the artist wishes to excite: and this opposition naturally
destroys the illusion; the defect of which must depend on the imperfec-
tion of the shades. This defect can never be wholly removed, but it
may be in some measure remedied, although no painter even yet suc-
ceeded in giving a perfect representation of a shadow. What we call in
nature a shadow, is no real being, but merely the privation of light,
which, more or less, destroys colours, as it is more or less com-
plete. The painter, however, has no way to represent this want of
light but by employing colours, which, however dark and absor-
bent, do always reflect the light in a certain degree. To carry the
imitation of shadow to the highest degree of perfection, it would be ne-
cessary to employ colours capable of darkening all others, as occasion
should require; at the same time, that these colours themselves should
furnish no marks of their own existence, by reflecting the different lights
falling on the picture. This kind of negative colour, as it might be
called, would perhaps be useful in practice; but such a colour is unat-
tainable, because there is no body or colour in nature, which, in this si-
tuation, would not reflect one or other of the rays of light that fell on it.
The want of illusion, therefore, must be owing to the imperfection of
shading: and consequently cannot exist completely in painting. There
is, however, another species of illusion, improperly so called, which is
one of the chief parts of the art. This consists in giving to the whole.
piece, and to each individual part, by means of correctness of forms, and
combinations of colours, and their general effects, such a resemblance to
the truth, that the representation shall excite in the observer all the plea-.
sure to be derived from an inspection of the original. In this consists
the genuine truth of imitation, and this may be executed by pictures, on
a small scale, as well as in those of a size equal to that of the objects re-
presented, and containing any number of figures, at any probable dis-
tance, the one from the other. It may still, however, be questioned,
whether this near imitation of reality be the greatest perfection of which
painting is susceptible. It is admitted, that the greatest perfection is
that which not only delights, at the first general, view, but which
will bear the test of the nearest and most critical examination. If, how-
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ever, illusion, such as it has been described, were the chief merit of
painting, then it would follow, that a person little versed in the art
would derive as much pleasure from its productions as he who had
the greatest skill. The greatest masters seem evidently to have placed
but little reliance on this species of illusion, for producing the desired
effects on the spectator. Even the works of Raphael are not, in this re-
spect, superior to those of an ordinary nand: but, the grandeur of his
ideas in composition, the choice of his forms, the beauty of his heads,
not resembling any known truth; his ingenious and noble manner in
drapery, not imitated from any known stuff, nor the dress of any nation
in short, all these, and other excellencies, are far superior to the simple
imitation of the truth of nature, and fully warrant us to say, that illu-
sion is by no means the source of the greatest delight in the productions
of art. Those who have excelled in colouring, have approached nearer
to` perfection, in illusion, than others who have failed in that part of
painting: and, perhaps, to this circumstance do they owe a great share
of the admiration bestowed on their works. It is true, that the exqui-
site shades and freshness of colouring, remarked in the productions of
Corregio and Titian, exceeding the ordinary beauties of nature, and only
to be found in her most perfect examples, may not be considered as de-
stroying illusion: but, on the other hand, it is certain that feeble, and
less exquisite tints and shades, would carry the illusion to a higher
pitch. Besides, that broad, easy, excellent manner of painting, that har-
mony of parts and of colouring, of which they have given such exam-
ples, proceeded from qualities far more exquisite than those which
would have been requisite for the simple imitation of nature. All this
seems to show, that the nearest resemblance to the truth of individual
nature is not the sole object of painting; but that the art acquires a su-
perior elevation, by superadding beauty and elegance to the most cor-
rect representation of objects; and it is in this acquirement that the first
merit of the greatest masters is to be attributed. In examining the lead-
ing excellencies of painting, we observe that many of the most essential
are of a very different nature from those whose great object is deception.
For instance, in a picture, we admire the extent of genius, the graceful-
ness and propriety of attitudes, the formation and arrangement of groups,
so that the best general effects may be produced, either by means of light
and shade, or in the correct suitableness of each component part, to the
situation and intention of the whole: the beauties of composition, there-
fore, are of a nature very different from those which go to produce illu◄
sion. Sir Joshua Reynolds has well drawn the line of distinction be-
tween the illusive and the beautiful in painting, in his third Academical
Discourse, in which he has the following passages:-" The principle
laid down, that the perfection of the painter's art does not consist in
mere imitation, is far from being new or singular. It is indeed sup-
ported by the general opinion of the enlightened part of mankind. The
poets, orators, and rhetoricians of antiquity, are continually enforcing
this position; that all the arts receive their perfection from ideal beauty,
superior to what is to be formed in individual nature. They are ever
referring to the practice of the painters and sculptors of their times, par-
ticularly of Phidias, the favourite artist of antiquity, to illustrate their
assertions. As if they could not sufficiently express their admiration
of his genius, by what they knew, they have recourse to poetical enthu-
siasm; they call it inspiration; a gift from heaven. The artist is sup-
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posed to have ascended the celestial regions, to furnish his mind with
this perfect idea of beauty. "He (says Proclus) who takes for his model
such forms as nature produces, and confines himself to an exact imita-
tion of them, will never attain to what is perfectly beautiful. For the
works of nature are full of disproportion, and fall very short of the true
standard of beauty. So that Phidias, when he formed his Jupiter, did
not copy any object ever presented to his sight; but contemplated only
that image, which he had conceived in his mind, from Homer's descrip-
tion." Cicero, speaking of the same Phidias, says,-" Neither did this
artist, when he carved the image of Jupiter or Minerva, set before him
any one human figure, as a pattern which he was to copy: but having
a more perfect idea of beauty fixed in his mind, this he steadily contem-
plated; and to the imitation of this all his skill and labour were directed."
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The portrait painter, whose chief merit seems to consist in a minute
correct representation of the individual he is employed to paint, ought,
in the same manner, to give a nobler turn to his work, by introducing a
fancy, a variety, and a dignity, borrowed from the higher branches of
the art; and portraits ought to remind the spectator of the invention of
history, and of the amenity of landscape. In painting portraits the ar-
tist ought not to appear to be raised upon the platform, but to have de-
scended to it from a higher sphere. Portrait painters, when they at-
tempt history, are very apt to be led by the habit of a close illusive imi-
tation of persons, to run too much into minute detail. Their historical
heads and figures too frequently resemble particular portraits; as was
once the custom amongst old artists, on the revival of painting, and be-
fore generalization of figures and objects was either understood or
practised. A history painter is to represent men in general; a por-
trait painter some particular man, and consequently a defective mo-
del. A great style in painting is sure to suffer, more or less, by any
meaner mixture: but it often happens that the inferior may be im-
proved by borrowing from the superior. Thus, if a portrait painter
is desirous to raise and improve his subject, he has no other means
than by approaching it to a general idea. He must leave out all the
minute peculiarities of the countenance, and instead of a modern tem-
porary dress, suited to the fashion of the day, bestow on the figure one
more permanent, and to which no idea of meanness has been connected
in the minds of his spectators. On the other hand, if a correct re-
semblance of the person be considered as the only object of his pur-
suit, the painter runs the risk of losing more than he can gain, by in-
troducing general ideas drawn from the great body of nature around
him. Hence it is so difficult to give an air of superior dignity or
elegance to a countenance, without departing materially from the ex-
act likeness generally required by those who sit to the painter.
1
OF COSTUME. Costume is an Italian term adopted among artists, to
express, the conformity of the representation of any fact to the fact it-
self as handed down to us, or as it may be, on good reason and au-
thority, supposed to have really happened. This conformity must be
very comprehensive, including whatever relates to the manners of the
times, to the characters or the persons concerned; to their dress and
arms, to the customs of the place, the buildings, and style of architec-
ture; to the animals, to the taste of the people, their wealth, occupa-
tions, amusements, &c. in fine, to whatever circumstances are peculiar
to and characteristic of the fact to be represented. This enumeration

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of particulars shews that the study of the costume is no slight under-
taking. The artist must carefully consult the historic relations and
original movements of the period on which he is employed; observing
at the same time not to shock the eye of the spectator, by displaying
such circumstances as would be in too violent opposition to the corre-
sponding incidents and practices of his own day. He must speak, as it
were, nothing but the truth; at the same time that he is not expected
to unfold the whole truth. Again, it often nappens, that a piece com-
posed of picturesque figures, derives considerable advantage from cer-
tain liberties used by the painter, calculated both to facilitate his own
labour, and to gratify the spectator: for the professed judges of the
performance are not habitually occupied with all the details of ancient
or even modern history; or profoundly versed in all the circumstances
by which a considerable departure from the correctness of costume is
rendered conspicuous: nor are they so ignorant as not to perceive, or so
careless as not to pay regard to those circumstances, without a due atten-
tion to which this branch of the art would become altogether arbitrary.
Between these extremes the painter, must guide his course, neither on
the one hand sternly rejecting appropriate and admissible beauties, nor,
on the other sacrificing all regard to probability. When no authentic
historical details are to be procured, the artist, is more at liberty to give
scope to his invention: but he must be cautious how he introduces such
objects as are familiar to the spectator; because all illusion would then
be destroyed, and the piece would have more the air of a modern thea-
trical representation of the subject than of a historical narration. It has
been much debated, whether the costume ought to be strictly adhered
to in portrait painting. One party have alleged, that however much a
particular mode (of dress, for example) may be authorised by the exist-
ing fashion of the times, yet, that it never fails, in the course of a few
years, to become ridiculous, even in the eyes of those who at the time
most admired it; and will, in all probability, appear still more extrava-
gant and senseless to posterity. Their antagonists, on the other hand,
have stated, that this correct fidelity, in point of dress, contributes
powerfully to produce the genuine resemblance in the portrait; that it
thus becomes a historical monument for the information of future times;
that there is no fixed or universal and permanent costume, excepting in
certain dresses of office and ceremony; and that those who are in situa-
tions requiring such dresses, ought naturally to be so represented.
With respect to the propriety, or becomingness, of one mode of dress,
taken as a part of the general idea comprehended under costume, it can
only be said, that it has its due medium point, which nothing but good
sense and taste can discover and ascertain. Neither can we reasonably
determine to which of the different customs of various ages and countries
we ought to give a preference, since they seem to be all nearly equally
agreeable to or removed from nature. The European, when he has cut
off his beard, and put false hair on his head, or bound up his own na-
tural hair in regular hard knots, as unlike nature as he can possibly
make; and often having rendered these immoveable, by the help of the
fat of hogs, and covered the whole with flour, laid on by a machine with
the utmost regularity; when thus attired, he sallies forth and meets a
Cherokee Indian, who has bestowed as much time at his toilet, and laid
on, with equal care and attention, his yellow and red ochre, on parti-
eular parts of his forehead or cheeks, as he judges to be the most be-
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coming: whoever of these two persons despises the other for his atten-
tion to the fashion of his country; whoever first feels himself inclined
to laugh, he is the barbarian. As Greece and Rome are the sources
from whence have been derived all kinds of excellence, to that venera-
tion to which these sources are entitled, for the knowledge and plea-
sure they afford us, we readily add our approbation of every practice
and
every ornament which belonged to them, even to the fashion of
their dress. For it is a common observation, that not satisfied with
these practices and ornaments in their own proper place, we make no
difficulty of dressing modern heroes or senators in the fashion of the
Roman armour or peaceful robe. Nay, we carry this so far as scarcely
to endure a statue in any other drapery. Witness the grotesque ridi-
culous figure of a former Duke of Cumberland, with cocked hat and
jack-boots, in Cavendish square, and the simple modest statue of Charles
James Fox, just erected in Bloomsbury square. The figures of the
great men of antiquity have come down to us only in sculpture and
in this branch we possess almost all the specimens of ancient art. We
have so far associated personal dignity to those who are thus represent-
ed; and the truth of art to their manner of representation, that it is
not in our power any longer to separate them. The case, however, is
different in painting, because no excellent portraits having reached us
from antiquity, similar associations have not been formed in our minds.
Hence it comes, that we could no more bear the painting of a modern
general, in the Roman military habit, than a statue clothed in the pre-
sent regimental uniform. But since we have no ancient portraits, still,
to shew how ready we are to follow prejudices of the same kind, we
resort to the best authority among modern artists for a similar purpose.
The great variety of admirable portraits with which Vandyck has en-
riched this nation, are not only valued for their real excellence as paint-
ings, but our approbation is extended to the dresses of his figures, al-
though their only merit is, that they were fashionable in the artist's
own time.
"He," says Sir Joshua Reynolds, "who, in his practice
of portrait painting, wishes to dignify his subject, which we will sup-
pose to be a lady, will not paint her in the modern dress, the fami-
liarity of which alone is sufficient to destroy all dignity. He takes care
that his work shall correspond to those ideas and that imagination
which he knows will regulate the judgment of others; and therefore
dresses his figure something with the general air of the antique, for the
sake of dignity; and preserves something of the modern, for the sake
of likeness. By this conduct his works correspond with those prejudices
which we have in favour of what we continually see; and the relish of
the antique simplicity corresponds with what we may call the more
learned and scientific prejudice." In studying the costume in the works
of even the best masters, the student is apt to be misled; for errors and
inaccuracies, in this part of his art, abound in the productions of the
most celebrated painters, both ancient and modern. The following ex-
amples will be sufficient to put him on his guard against implicitly copy-
ing, or admiring, whatever comes recommended to him, as the genuine
works of artists, of the most deserved reputation. When Raphael, in
his Cartoons, introduces Monks and Swiss guards: when he puts into
boat more figures that it is evident the boat could actually contain:
when in the chastisement of Heliodorus, who attempted to destroy the
temple of Jerusalem, Pope Julius the Second is represented as being
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present: when in the donation of Constantine, in the Vatican, a naked
boy is placed conspicuous in the fore-ground, astride upon a dog, in the
immediate presence of the Pope and the Emperor: when Venetian se-
nators are introduced while Pope Alexander excommunicates Bar-
barossa: when Aristotle, Plato, Dante, and Petrarch are brought to-
gether in the painting called the School of Athens, to omit the lesser
improprieties of shoeless apostles, &c. every person must confess, that
these, and similar offences against the truth of the costume, if they do
not proceed from ignorance, or a defect of understanding in the artist,
are instances of inexcusable carelessness. It is true, that many of these
incongruities are supposed to have been introduced at the desire, or to
gratify the humour of those for whom the paintings were executed : but
other instances of offence against costume are not wanting, not to be so
easily defended. Thus, when the dreams of Joseph and of his fellow
prisoner in Egypt, are figured in circles in the air over their heads;
when similar contrivances have been resorted to, by Albano, Parmeg-
giano, and others, is it not evident that no possibility can make these
fictions have an air of truth; and that real and feigned existences are
unnaturally introduced in one historical painting? As the errors of the
most eminent men are always the most dangerous, particularly to begin-
ners, the following strictures on much-admired productions of the late
excellent President of the Royal Academy, by the pen of a very ingeni-
ous writer, cannot fail to be of service to the young artist:-" Mrs.
Siddons is represented by Sir Joshua in the character (it is said) of the
Tragic Muse: she is placed in an old fashioned arm-chair: this arm-chair
is supported by clouds, suspended in the air. On each side of her head
is a figure, not unapt to suggest the idea of the attendant imps of an
enchantress. Of these figures one is supposed to represent Comedy, and
the other Tragedy. Mrs. Siddons herself is decently attired in the
fashionable habiliments of twenty or thirty years ago. If this be a pic-
ture of the Tragic Muse, she ought not to appear in a modern dress,
nor ought she to be seated in an old arm-chair. If it be a portraiture
of Mrs. Siddons she has no business in the clouds, nor has she any thing
to do with aerial attendants. If this be Mrs. Siddons in the character
of the Tragic Muse, the first set of objections will apply; for she is
placed in a situation where Mrs. Siddons could never be.” Again, in
the picture of the death of Dido, her sister is introduced, lamenting over
the corpse of the unfortunate queen. This is possible; but the artist has
also introduced Atropos cutting Dido's hair with her scissars; a being
equally real and apparent in the painting with Dido or her sister. This
appears to be an offence against mythological probability: but it is not
the only offence against the truth of costume, with which the picture
may be charged."
There is still one other breach of the costume, however common
among painters, more offensive and inexcusable than any thing hitherto
noticed; that is, the perpetual and unnecessary display of the naked
figure. This is not the place to enquire whether more skill be display-
ed in painting the human body clothed or unclothed: but if the
persons
introduced in any picture are exhibited more naked than can be justi-
fied, by the probability of the times, persons, places, or other circum-
stances, this manner of treating the subject is a breach of the costume,
proportionate to the deviation. This fault, however, is so common, and
authorised by the example of so many of the most eminent artists, that it

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is hardly noticed, when compared with the more violent offences against
science itself, as well as against morality, which have been the oppro-
brium of the art of painting, in every stage of its progress. The same
gross offence against propriety and decorum is too common in pieces of
modern statuary, as may be seen in certain monuments lately erected,
at the public expence, even in our churches.
Landscape Painting.
Landscape painting comprehends all objects presented to our view,
in a prospect of the country; and is commonly divided into the heroic or
historical, and the rural or pastoral styles: all others partake more or
less of these. By the heroic style is understood those scenes which ex-
hibit whatever is great, sublime, or extraordinary in nature or in art.
The situations must be on a grand scale; the buildings introduced should
be temples, pyramids, funeral monuments, altars consecrated to fabulous
divinities, palaces or pleasure-houses of regular and splendid architec-
ture, &c. so that, if nature is represented not as we actually see her
every day, she at least appears. as we think she ought to be. This style
is an agreeable species of illusion, a sort of enchantment, when handled
by an artist of genius and understanding. The danger of treating
landscapes of this sort is that, where true genius and understanding are
not possessed in a high degree, the artist is liable to fall into unnatural
bombast, while he imagines he is arriving at the sublime. In this
branch N. Poussin has been particularly successful. The rural style,
on the other hand, represents countries, rather as they appear from the
hand of nature than when improved by men. There she is seen simple,
without ornament, and without artifice; being, as Milton says; when
unadorned adorned the most. In this style the varieties of situation are
infinite: sometimes extensive and open, at others confined and embar-
rassed. In one scene the shepherd appears with his flock; in another
the solitary hermit, or the prowling beast of prey. Few painters have
appeared in the world possessed of sufficient talents to embrace many of
the chief branches of painting. In general the mind is so occupied by
its attention to some particular parts of the art, that others, of perhaps
equal importance, are neglected; and it generally happens, that those
whose genius leads them to attempt the heroic style, think they have
done enough when they present to the eye such dignified objects as
have a tendency to raise the imagination; but disregard the inferior
parts, as colouring, for instance, as beneath their notice. Those again
who devote themselves to the pastoral style, give particular attention to
colouring; as the part by which the greatest effects may be produced,
in the way they chiefly aim at. Perhaps it would be better to combine
these two styles, more frequently than is generally done; a practice of
which they are both very susceptible, and which could not fail to render
a work more interesting and pleasing to the greatest number of spec-



tators.
A landscape comprehends a vast variety of parts, such as situations or
openings, accidents of weather, air, clouds, offskips and mountains, ver-
dure, rocks, fields, terraces, buildings, water, fore-grounds, plants, trees,
figures, &c.
Situations or openings, mean the view or prospect of a country, and
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require great skill in putting together, so that although only a portion of
them be seen, yet the imagination is left abundant scope to extend the
scene in all directions, without restraint, according to the specimen fur-
nished by the painter; whether it be open or close, mountainous or level,
cultivated and inhabited, or wild and desart. If the artist, however,
has chosen to represent a flat regular country, he must, by the distribu-
tion of his objects, and a judicious arrangement of his shadows, give to
the view that variety and interesting appearance which nature had re-
fused it. Extraordinary situations never fail to please, even when the
colouring has been but indifferently executed, so as to appear unfinish-
ed: but common objects or scenes, demand all the magic of a Claude to
render them interesting. In whatever manner, however, this part be
performed, nothing contributes to heighten the effect so much as the
introduction of some accident, ingeniously contrived, and suited with
probability to the scene.
Accidents, in painting, are various; such as withdrawing the sun's
beams by the interposition of a cloud, so that some parts of the pro-
spect shall be enlightened, while others are obscured. And although it
be impossible to represent motion, in painting, yet admirable hints may
be obtained from observing the strong effects of dense clouds passing
over the face of a country, and producing the most characteristic lights
and shades. As these effects depend on the shapes of the clouds, com-
bined with their motions, unequal and irregular, the representations of
them in painting are arbitrary, and furnish a wide field for the display
of the artist's powers: at the same time, that Claude Lorraine, and some
other great landscape painters, seem to have made no use of such na-
tural incidents; because their effects counteracted that calm serenity
which they loved to represent.
The Sky and Clouds. In the language of the painter, the sky means
the ethereal firmament above us, or rather the air in which we breathe,
and where clouds and storms are produced. This sky is of a blue co-
lour, drawing more to a white, as it approaches the earth, on account
of the intervention of vapours hovering along the surface of the ground,
which being penetrated by the light, communicate it to objects, in a
greater or less degree, according to their distance from the eye. It is
to be observed, however, that this light being yellowish or reddish at
sun-set, those objects partake not only of the light, but of the yellow or
red colour; consequently the yellow light mingling with the blue sky,
gives it a tint more or less greenish, as the yellow colour is more or less
deep. This observation is universal and infallible: but there are many
others which the painter must make on the ground, marking them with
his pencil as they occasionally appear for there are, in the various ap-
pearances of the sky and light, a multitude of curious circumstances,
which can neither be described nor readily accounted for. Thus we
often observe, in the brightest part of certain clouds, a fine red colour,
at the same time that the light which illuminates them is of a lively yel-
low. Various reds are likewise visible in different clouds, whilst those
red parts are all illuminated in one place. Such colours and appear-
ances seem to be produced by other natural causes than those to which
we owe the beautiful arches of the rain-bow. These effects are most
observable in an evening, when the state of the weather approaches to
a change: before or after a storm; or when it is not entirely over, but
leaves some marks of its existence, sufficient to attract our notice. The
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property of clouds is to be thin, and of an airy texture; their shapes,
though of endless variety, ought to be carefully observed and studied
from nature, as they present themselves to the eye. In order to make
them look thin, in a picture, the grounds over which they pass ought to
be made to unite with them, as if the clouds were transparent, especially
towards their edges: But if the clouds are to be represented of consi-
derable thickness, then the reflections from them must be so managed,
that without entirely destroying their transparency, they may be made
to unite with other clouds in their neighbourhood. Small clouds, in a
painting, seldom have a good effect, and betray a feebleness of manner
in the artist, excepting when they are so near one to another, as, in a
general way, to be considered as forming only one object. Upon the
whole, it must be remembered, that the character of the sky is to be lu-
minous, and that consequently all objects on the earth must be inferior
in brightness. The only objects which can at all rival the sky, are wa-
ter and polished surfaces, susceptible of luminous reflection. The artist
must also recollect, that although the sky be luminous, it is not always
equally bright in all places, nor to be so represented. On the con-
trary, he must distribute his lights in such a manner, that its greatest
force may fall upon one place of the piece; and also to make this
bright place still more distinguished, or to give it more relief and effect,
by contrasting it with some object on the ground, such as a tree, a
tower, or other elevated body, of an obscure colour. This principal
light might be also heightened, by an arrangement of clouds possessing
a borrowed light, or inclosing it between them, whilst their own ob-
scurity is gradually communicated to all the surrounding objects. Of
tnis artifice we have many examples in the performances of the Flemish
school.

Offskips and mountains. The offskip, or what the French call loin-
tain, is closely connected with the appearance of the sky, by which its
strength or faintness is determined. That is to say, the offskips are
darkest when the sky is most charged with clouds, and most enlighten-
ed when it is brightest. The shapes and lights of the sky are often in-
termixed with those of the mountains, by the appearance of clouds pass-
ing between their ranges, at a great distance; thereby affording room
for the artist to produce very picturesque effects; particularly when
these mountains are so elevated as to have their summits and slopes co-
vered with snow, interspersed with masses of bare rock, in suitable si-
tuations: for it is to be recollected, that it is not entirely owing to the
absolute height of a mountain, that the snow remains upon it; but prin-
cipally to the nature of the surface. Thus, for instance, the noted
mountain, Mont Blanc, at the angle of the Alps, on the south side of
the lake of Geneva, so called from its constant white covering of snow,
is terminated by a convex surface of some extent, sufficiently level to re-
tain the snow; while some other pinnacles of rock, shooting up from its
sides, but to an elevation considerably less than itself, are so steep, that
the rains and snows have no footing on them. In managing offskips
the painter must shew his skill in combining them properly with the
nature and character of the country represented, as well as with the ge-
neral scope of the picture. They are commonly of a blue cast, from the
intervention of the horizontal stratum of air through which they are
seen: but this blue cast gradually diminishes or increases, as the objects
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in their own natural hues. In representing the distances of moun
tains, care must be taken to round them off by proper gradations of
tints, so that those which are intended to appear at the greatest dis-
tances from one another may be given with the greatest difference of co-
lours. Their contours must be so delicately defined as not to appear like
different pieces of scenery, or painting, placed one behind another, and
so attached to the canvas. The air at the bottom of a mountain being,
as was already observed, more loaded with vapours than that at the top,
is consequently more capable of reflecting rays of light. If the princi-
pal light, therefore, be placed in a high situation, the whole mountains
will be equally illuminated, or only partially darkened by the interpo-
sition of a cloud: but if the source of the light be placed low, or near
the horizon, then the tops of the mountains only will be strongly en-
lightened, as well as other objects receiving the light in a similar direc-
tion. Although objects are diminished in size, and appear with fainter
colours, as they retire from the front of the picture; yet this appearance,
correctly copied from nature, does by no means prevent the artist from
availing himself of the use of accidents of the atmosphere, by which
strong lights and shades may be introduced in particular situations, to
give a picturesque effect: but in this, as in all other parts of the work,
judgment, founded on a careful observation of the phenomena of nature,
must guide his pencil.
Of verdure or turfing: that is the green colour of the surface of the
ground, produced by the herbs and plants covering it. This admits of
great diversity, according to the nature of these plants, and the season
of the year, which occasions great changes in their appearance. This
variety supplies the painter with an opportunity of adorning his work
with an infinite variegation of tints, all tending to give a strong air of
truth to his imitations.
Of Rocks. The varieties of rocks, in respect to colour, form, and com-
position, are infinite; but still, in all these varieties, there are certain cha-
racteristic features, by which a rock is distinguished in its natural state,
and which can only be known by sedulous observation of the real ob-
jects. Some present themselves in easy sloping banks, surrounded with
shrubs, others in huge blocks project, or threaten to fall down a preci-
pice, At one time they appear in one vast mass, or lie scattered in de-
tached fragments. But whatever be the diversity of their shapes, the
crevices in their surface, the breaks and hollows running inwards, the
shrubs, the moss, the stains produced by time, their sudden changes and
irregularity of outline, their roughness of exterior appearance render
them peculiarly picturesque: the painter all the while taking care in re-
presenting them, not to overstep the modesty of nature, by assigning to
his rocks, situations, forms, or colours, such as are not generally ob-
A rock by itself has a tendency to inspire melancholy, from
the idea of solitariness: but when ornamented with herbs, shrubs, or
overhanging trees, it breathes a more animating air. When accompanied
by water, falling or gushing from their sides, or even peacefully bathing
their feet, rocks become a source of the highest delight to all lovers of
unsophisticated nature.
Of grounds or land. By these terms painters mean distinct portions of
land, partly of an uneven surface, interspered with trees; but not so
much so as to be considered as either a hill or a wood. Such portions
of ground as these are of infinite service in representing the gradations
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of distance in a painting; because they glide into one another with a na-
tural union, in shape, in colour, and in light and shade. These grounds
ought not to be divided into many portions, detached from and uncon
nected with one another; lest forming, as it were, different particular
scenes or points of view, they distract the attention of the spectator, and
thereby destroy the unity of the whole landscape. Great skill and judg-
ment are nevertheless necessary in representing such objects, that the
due gradations of colour may be applied to the trees, hills, or other parts,
according to the circumstances of distance, light, &c. without running
into an unnecessary or unnatural display of such varieties.
Of buildings. By this term artists mean any edifice they represent,
particularly such as being of regular architecture, and occupying a con-
spicuous place in the painting, enter into the composition of heroic
landscape: but a country cottage, or a shepherd's hut, so frequently in-
troduced, nay, so requiste in the rural style, are seldom known by this
name. Buildings of all sorts are highly ornamental in landscape, whe-
ther Greek or Roman, Gothic or more modern; but such edifices, while
entire and in a state of perfect preservation, however beautiful or mag-
nificent in themselves, are by no means adapted to landscape represen-
tation: they are not picturesque; a term better understood than defined,
because it stands for a peculiar feeling, born with us, but susceptible of
great cultivation and improvement. The following illustrations of the
picturesque, drawn from the writings of Mr. Gilpin, and assented to by
other judges of painting, seem to come near to the truth :-" Objects
are most properly picturesque, when they are disposed by the hand of
nature or of art, with a mixture of varied rudeness, simplicity, and gran-
deur. A plain neat garden, with little variation in its plan, and no
striking grandeur in its position, displays too much of art, design, and
uniformity, to be called picturesque. The ideas of neat and smooth dis-
qualify objects from any pretensions to picturesque beauty. Nay, far-
ther, we do not scruple to assert, that roughness forms the most essential
point of difference between the beautiful and the picturesque, as it seems
to be that quality which makes objects chiefly pleasing in painting. The
term roughness is here used, although it properly describes the surface
of bodies: when we speak of their delineation, we employ ruggedness.
Both ideas, however, equally enter into the picturesque, and both are
observable in the smaller as well as in the larger parts of nature, in the
outline and the bark of a tree, as in the rude summit and craggy sides
of a mountain. Thus, for example, a piece of Palladian architecture may
be elegant in the highest degree; the proportion of its parts, the pro-
priety of its ornaments, and the symmetry of the whole may be extreme-
ly pleasing but if it is introduced in a painting, it immediately be-
comes a formal object, and ceases to please. Should we wish to give it
picturesque beauty, we must use the mallet instead of the chissel; we
must beat down one half of it, and deface the other; throwing the mu-
tilated fragments around in heaps: in short, we must, from a smooth regu-
lar building, turn it into a rough and rugged irregular ruin. In such a case
no painter of taste would hesitate an instant in his choice. Again, why
does an elegant piece of garden-ground make no figure on canvas? the
shape is pleasing, the combination of the objects harmonious, and the
winding of the walk is in the precise line of beauty. All this is true;
but the smoothness of the whole, though right, and as it should be in na
ture, offends when presented in a picture. Turn the lawn into a piece


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of broken ground, plant rugged oaks instead of flowering shrubs, break
the edges of the walk, give it the rudeness of a road, mark it with wheel-
tracts, and scatter round a few stones and brushwood; in a word, in-
stead of making the whole smooth, make it rough, and you instantly
make it picturesque. All the other ingredients of beauty it already pos-
sessed. We seek for the picturesque amongst all the materials which
enter into landscape, as trees, rocks, broken grounds, woods, rivers,
lakes, plains, vallies, mountains, and distances. These objects in them-
selves produce infinite variety, and these varieties are undergoing con-
tinual modifications, from position, light, and other circumstances in-
cessantly recurring in nature."
Of Waters. Water is to a landscape, whether real or represented,
what the circulating blood is to the animal frame; it is its life and soul.
The appearances of water are very various: at one time the impetuous
torrent overflows its banks, and spreads devastation on every hand: at
another the stream tumbles headlong from a precipice, and rebounds as
if returning to its former situation, filling the air with vapour; again,
as if confined in its too narrow channel, the water gushes out, dividing
into a multitude of silvery rills, whose motion and music delight the eye
and ear of the observer: here it flows calmly over its sandy bed: there
it seems to forget to move, reflecting, as a natural mirror, the objects in
its neighbourhood. But, however ornamental and animating waters are,
still there are stations where they cannot, with propriety, be represented.
It is also one of the most difficult branches of the art, to give a natural
appearance to water, with the reflections and other accidents to which it
is liable. Reflections and refractions produced by water, are, neverthe-
less, subject to certain rules in geometry and optics, of which it is not
allowed to the painter to be ignorant, and which may easily be acquired,
without his aiming at a profound skill in these branches of science. From
these reflections and refractions it is that water never presents the images
of objects as they really exist, but when it is perfectly still and unruffled;
for whenever by the current of the water over even a gentle slope, or
by the effect of the wind, the surface is broken into a continued succes-
sion of very small waves, whose sides are differently inclined to the
spec-
fator's view, then the images of surrounding objects are reflected in so
many various directions, that the objects themselves appear broken and
distorted, both in shape and colour.
Of Fore-grounds. As it is by the foreground that we are led into the
scene of a landscape, the arrangement of this part of the work demands
great attention; as a miscarriage in the introduction must have an unfavour-
able effect on the mind of the spectator, and dispose him to notice, and
even to hunt for defects, where, without such disappointment, he might
probably have found only beauties. Fore-grounds may be composed in
various ways: sometimes as representing the opening of a spacious valley,
naturally conveying the eye to the chief objects placed at a distance; at
others they are ornamented with flowers or shrubs, beautiful in them-
selves, and characteristically displayed; figures or other objects, suited
to the description of the scene represented. When shrubs and bushes,
or trees appear in the fore-ground, they ought to be represented with
such a regard to the general truth of their shape, foliage, colours, &c.
as to be immediately distinguished from all others: but this attention it
is not required to extend to such a degree of minuteness as to resemble
the drawings of a professed botanist. Of plants and shrubs introduced

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into the fore-ground, some ought to be more highly and correctly
finished than others; a practice which not only is founded on the
natural appearance of such objects, according to their meeting or retiring
from the eye; but which accounts for the indistinctness of other plants,
by showing the observer that it is not from want of skill, but from want
of a suitable opportunity, that the artist has not exhibited them with the
same minute accuracy as he has done the others.
Of Figures. Although historical and other pieces have been imagined,
without any regard to the scenery in which they are placed; and land-
scapes, in a similar way, have been designed, when no particular action
was intended to be represented in them; yet it is certain that both
branches of painting would be great gainers by a due natural union :
landscapes being destitute of animation without figures, and figures
without their appropriate landscape being contrary to the laws of na
tural probability. Figures represented in a state of absolute inaction,
are very unfit for the painter, as they seem to have no business whatever
in the scene. The best way, therefore, for the painter is to present his
figures in such situations and attitudes, that the spectator may conclude,
however erroneously, that the figures were the chief object in the artist's
mind, and that the landscape was only considered to be a necessary ad-
junct to the figures. One consideration of great importance is, that the
figures be proportionate to the trees and bushes, houses, or other well-
known objects near which they are supposed to be placed, that they may
appear neither pigmies nor giants, but real beings, in the midst of real
scenery. Should the figures, however, be smaller than due proportion
requires, the effect will be better than if they were too large, as in this
case the surrounding objects will acquire an air of magnitude, one of
the sources of grandeur. As the figures in landscapes, properly so call-
ed, must necessarily be small, they must be touched with a spirit and
animation, which the best judges will commend, even although it should
in some degree overpass the truth of natural appearance.
Of Trees. These furnish one of the greatest beauties of landscape, on
account of their variety of sorts and forms, in trunks, branches, and
foliage; the vigour and freshness of their growth when young, the pic-
turesque effects they produce when old,, and the light airy appearance
they present when animated with varieties of graceful or violent mo-
tion. The different sorts of trees demand the painter's utmost attention,
that they be presented to the spectator with such features as to leave him
in no doubt to what sorts they belong; whether oaks, elms, ashes, planes,
firs, poplars, willows, &c. &c. Hence arises one of the difficulties in
the student's way in executing landscape; a difficulty not to be removed
but by a careful and constant study of such objects, as they appear in
nature: but, besides this variety in the sorts of trees, even those of the
same species are liable to endless variations in their conformation and
colouring, from many incidental causes inexplicable by us. From these
two kinds of variety the painter is supplied with an abundant stock of
materials for enriching his scenes with objects the most agreeable and
interesting; at the same time that he is not permitted to plead this
boundless variety of nature, as an apology for his want of discriminat-
ing accurately their several characteristic features. The multiplied di-
versity of shapes, or makes of trees, of the position and distribution of
their branches, of their bark and foliage, is such as to defy description :
but this very variety leaves the painter without excuse, if his produc-





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tions possess not that air of truth and nature, without which no land-
scape can or ought to please. When the young artist has made a mul-
titude of separate sketches, or a study, as it is called, of whatever objects,
or parts of objects, he thinks may properly appear in his future works,
these drawings or copies ought to be arranged under certain heads, or
according to the several subjects with which they are connected, in or-
der to be consulted and brought forward, as proper materials for his pro-
jected compositions. It is true, that in order to produce a good effect,
even with the most abundant supply of the best materials, the artist must
be born with sense, genius, and taste; but these endowments may be
highly improved by cultivation, observing the practice of the greatest
masters, in their choice of natural objects, and their manner of dis-
posing them, so as to produce the most picturesque effects, without seem-
ing to depart from the chaste sobriety of nature. In the prosecution of
these studies different practices have been followed by different artists.
Some have made their designs from nature in the open air, and finished
the drawings, but without applying the colours. Others have made
their sketches in oil colours, in middle tint, on strong paper, and found
a convenience in doing so, as the several colours sinking in the paper,
they were enabled to apply one over another, however different it might
be. This method, which requires only the use of the pallet, pencils, oil,
and colours, answers well for copying natural objects with correctness;
especially if, when the work is nearly finished, the painter return to the
spot, and conclude his work by a few fresh touches from nature. Other
painters have contented themselves with merely drawing the outlines of
objects, and washed them over slightly in their natural colours, just to
assist their memory. Some have been satisfied with attentively observ-
ing such parts of objects as they meant to employ in their compositions,
without making any sketches whatever. Others have executed their
drawings with pastel and washing together. Some artists have, with
more accuracy and patience, returned repeatedly to the place of sketch-
ing, to fill up their first outlines, and introduce such varieties in colour-
ing and general appearance, as different lights and states of the weather
or other circumstances might occasion. All these methods are good,
and may be followed agreeably to the fancy or disposition of the artist
but they require the necessary implements of painting, with leisure and
preparation they are, therefore, not well suited for him who wishes to
seize those sudden, unexpected changes which frequently take place in
nature from various causes, and which, by their singularity as well as
truth, are capable of giving high effect to a painting. In this case the
following practice has been recommended as both convenient and use-
ful. Let the painter, provided with a quantity of paper and a black-
lead pencil, design slightly but rapidly, whatever he sees extraordinary;
and in order that he may make no mistake in the proper colouring,
mark the principal parts with characters or figures to be explained at the
bottom of the sketch, as far as may be necessary for his recollection.
;

Thus one cloud may be marked A, another B, a particular light C,
a mountain D, a terrace E, and so on. Against similar characters at the
bottom, he ought to write the colour of each object noticed, as red, blue,
grey, &c. He ought then to take the earliest opportunity of proceeding
to his work in painting, that the several circumstances may not slip out
of his memory. This method is the more useful, as it not only prevents
the loss of an infinite variety of sudden and transitory beauties of na-
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ture, but also furnishes the means of perfecting the other methods al-
ready mentioned. As nature is continually changing her attire, and
putting on a different garb, she must be followed and observed at all
times. Autumn, however, presents us with the greatest variety of ef-
fects. The mildness of that season, the beauty of the sky, the richness
of the earth, are powerful iducements to a painter then to exert himself,
in laying up materials for improving his talents and perfecting his art.
With all these helps, however, it is impossible for the most sedulous ob-
server of nature to see or notice all her varieties: he must, in this
case, avail himself of the labours of others who have gone before him.
We are told, that even the divine Raphael sent persons into Greece to
copy such morsels of art as he thought might be of service to him, and
did make use of them to as much advantage as if he had designed them
himself. For this conduct Raphael is so far from being censurable, that
he deserves to be commended, as setting an example, that artists ought
to avail themselves of every method for advancing towards perfection.
The landscape painter ought, therefore, boldly to make use of the works
of others to gain improvement: for men of superior talents are alone
capable of using, and, as it were, adopting other men's minds to their
own purposes, or are able to make out and finish what, in the original,
was only a hint or imperfect conception. A readiness in taking such
hints, which escape the dull and ignorant, makes no small part of that
faculty so much extolled---genius.
In executing the practical part of landscape painting, the following
preliminary remarks may not be unnecessary. That probability may
be apparent in the distribution of the several objects of the scene, and
of their parts, a knowledge of at least the general principles and most
ordinary rules of perspective, is indispensable. It is to be observed also,
not only for the sake of perspective but of truth, that the leaves of trees
are commonly smaller, in proportion as they are raised above the ground,
and paler in colour as farther removed from the sources of nourishment.
The higher branches are the first to take the various tints produced in
autumn. In plants, however, this does not happen, for as their stems
are renewed all the year long, and their leaves follow in constant suc-
cession, those which first appeared in the lower parts of the stem are
likewise the first to decay. These effects, however, must be understood
as more liable to take place in some kinds of plants than in others; and
nothing but a careful observation of the progress of nature will enable
the artist to give an air of truth and accuracy to his works.
The upper
parts of leaves are commonly of a darker and duller green than the un-
der parts, which often put on a silvery tinge, as may be readily seen
when they are shaken by the wind. The green colour predominates
when we look up through these leaves at the time they are strongly
enlightened by the sun. Although the prevailing colour of trees and
plants be green in spring, and yellow or brown in autumn, yet these
colours must be so applied as to produce an endless variety of tints,
otherwise the piece will appear unfinished, or unskilfully executed. It
is, therefore, the business of the painter to correct, and, as it were, re-
form the general garb of nature, according to the particular season re-
presented, by the introduction of sun-shine and shade, of figures, build
ings, water, or other objects, whose varied colours may give due repose.
to the eye, and a harmonious arrangement to the several parts of the
work. The student ought to take every opportunity to examine the


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{
works of the best masters in landscape, that he may catch somewhat of
their manner of execution, whether in disposition, drawing, or colour-
ing and even much of the mechanical part of the practice of painters
may be learned by a diligent study of the best pictures; so much so,
that it is generally by an intimate acquaintance with the painter's pe-
culiar manner of working, that his original paintings can be distinguish-
ed from copies or duplicates. More may be learned by such observa-
tion than by any written rules, in many of the principal parts of his
art: for what rules can be laid down for ascertaining the forms, dimen-
sions, and proportions of trees, as are done with regard to the human
figure, or other animals? The beauty of trees generally consists in the
conformation and even contrast of their branches, a sort of capricious
variety of nature, in which she delights, and in which Titian, Rubens,
and other painters have shown the accuracy as well as judgment with
which they copied her productions. Figures, animals, water, trees
shaken by the wind, give vast spirit to a landscape; and demand great
attention from the artist, that each object and the whole composition,
may preserve its peculiar character, to distinguish it from all others of
a similar sort; avoiding the two extremes, of a monotonous uniformity
of representation, and a licentious or whimsical manner of giving to
such objects attitudes and appearances, which, although within the
bounds of probability, are not sufficiently common to be considered as
justly appropriate or characteristic.
As there are various styles of thinking and composing, so there are
various styles of execution. In thought, for instance, there are the
heroic, and the pastoral or rural; and in execution there are the bold
firm style, the delicate finished style. The bold manner animates the
piece, and often atones for many deficiencies in the selection and other
important parts of a subject; on the other hand, the delicate polished
style finishes and ornaments every minute part to such a degree as
to leave nothing for the spectator to wish for, and from that very cir
cumstance often to satiate if not disgust him. The perfection of the
art would be, to design and compose with boldness and freedom, and
to finish with a minuteness and correctness within the bounds of
nature.


This is not the place to treat of the nature and composition of the
different colours used in painting, we shall merely observe, that those
used in landscapes are chiefly the following:-
1. Fine White
2. Common White
3. Fine light Ochre
4. Brown Ochre
5. Brown Pink
6. Burnt Umbre
7. Ivory Black
8. Prussian Blue
9. Ultramarine
10. Terre Verte
The principal Tints are these:
1. Light Ochre and White
2. Light Ochre, Prussian Blue and
White
*
3. Light Ochre and Prussian Blue
4. The same made darker
11. Lake
12. Indian Red
13. Vermilion
14. King's Yellow.
6. Brown Pink and Prussian Blue
7. Brown Pink and Brown Ochre
8. Brown Pink, Ochre, and Prus-
sian Blue
9. Indian Red, and White
5. Terre Verte and Prussian Blue 10. Ivory Black, Indian Red & Lake.
3
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PAINTING.
The colours generally used for the first coat or the dead-colouring, are
common white, light ochre, brown ochre, burnt umbre, Indian red,
ivory black, and Prussian blue. The principal colours and tints for
painting the sky, are fine white, ultramarine, Prussian blue, light ochre,
vermilion, lake, and Indian red. The tints are a fine azure, lighter
azure, light ochre and white, vermilion and white, and a tint made of
white, a little vermilion, and some of the light azure. Landscapes are
frequently done on a ground, in colour resembling tanned leather, com-
posed of brown ochre, white, and light red, which gives a warmth to
the shade colours, and is agreeable and fit for glazing. The first part of
the operation of painting is the rubbing in, or sketching, which is usually
done with burnt umbre, driven with drying oil, and a little oil of tur-
pentine; performed in a light faint free manner, leaving the colour of
the cloth for the lights, as that of the paper is left in drawing. No
part of the shadows ought to be made so dark as the first lay, or dead-
colouring is intended to be, which must be left lighter than the colours
to be afterwards applied in finishing. Though the leaves of trees be
only sketched or rubbed in, yet the trunks and bodies ought to be in
their proper shapes and positions, with the due breadths of light and
shade. All sorts of buildings must be done in the same way, the cloth
being left for the lights. When there are figures intended to appear in
the fore-ground, they should also be sketched in the same way, and left
to dry. The dead colouring, or first lay of the painting, ought to be
without any strong dark, or bright glaring colours; that the effect pro-
duced may be better fitted for receiving and preserving such colours as
are afterwards to be applied, than to give the full appearance of these
colours in the first operation. The first to be done is the sky; then the
distances; so working downwards to the centre group, and thence to
the fore-ground and parts nearest the eye. In doing this, all the parts
of each group, and of the objects composing it, whether buildings,
trees, or the like, should be painted at the same time, that they may
be all alike advanced for receiving the after operations. After de-
signing the landscape in this way, the student is to begin with the
sky, laying it on with a good body of colour, and giving a faint
tracing of the forms of the great clouds, more in the manner of the
chiaro oscuro than with finishing colours; the whiter this first body
is left, the better it will be able to receive the proper tints, and give
the due relief to the clouds, in the progress of the work. The dis-
tances ought to be laid out faintly with the dark-shade, with a slight
representation of their various lights, that the principal parts, may af-
terwards be introduced with the truest effect. In proportion as the
work advances to the centre the shades gradually partake of the co-
lour of burnt umbre. The grounds of the trees should be rubbed in,
just enough to give a faint resemblance of their figures and shadows.
The shadows must be laid with a clean ground, and lighter than the
colours to be used in finishing, and such as may be best suited to the
various hues to be afterwards applied. In painting the lights of the
landscape, it is safest to use such colours as more nearly resemble the
middle tints than the very high lights; and these ought to be left with
a good body of clean colour, well suited for receiving and preserving
those used afterwards in finishing. This may be done with a few tints,
and then the whole should be gone over very lightly with what is cal-
led the sweetener, in order to soften and mingle the colours in an


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agreeable, harmonious manner, to receive the last finishing. By the
sweetener, artists mean a hair-pencil or brush, with which the strongly
marked edges or boundary lines of the different bodies of colours, when
first laid on, are gradually softened and blended together, so as to in-
corporate and glide the one into the other, in an easy natural manner.
The second painting. In this stage of the business the artist begins
with the sky, laying in all the azure, with the several colours of the
horizon, which must next be softened and blended. He next applies
the prevailing colour of the clouds, modifying and finishing it with the
higher lights, and other varieties of tint requisite, the whole worked
with delicate light touches, and concluding the operation softly with
the sweetener. The finishing of the sky seldom succeeds well, unless
it be executed all at one painting, as the very tender character of the
clouds can hardly ever be naturally expressed, but when all the colours
are still moist and flowing, and capable of being properly blended and in-
corporated together. If the azure and colours of the horizon are laid on
with a good stiff body, it will be much easier afterwards to represent
the clouds upon them. Such objects as are intended to appear at the
greatest distance are commonly laid with the colour of the sky; but
such as draw nearer to the eye, and of course become darker, ought to
have their parts glazed and scumbled very thinly, using such glazing
shade-colours as come the nearest to the prevailing local tints of the
group in which the several objects appear. This glazing ought to be
somewhat darkish, that the first painting, or dead-colour, may be seen
distinctly through it; and on this lay or ground the finishing colours
are afterwards to be added. When this glazed ground has been skil-
fully chosen, and properly adapted to the objects, situation, and other
requisite circumstances, the other colours necessary for the lights, and
the finishing of the whole, will be easily discovered. In laying these
on, however, great care is necessary, lest the glazing be spoiled: the
colours ought, therefore, to be very accurately mingled and worked up-
on the pallet, and then laid on with very light free touches of the pencil.
Glazing, in the painter's language, means the application of a thin
superficial coat of clear transparent colour, and is generally practised on
the shades. This coat is a composition of the requisite colour, mixed
with turpentine, mastic varnish, and linseed oil: at other times painters
use only colour mixed with mastic varnish and pale drying oil. These
ingredients, smartly shaken together, form a clear substance like a jelly,
extremely useful in many parts of the painter's work. This composi
tion is commonly called megellup. The most useful glazing colours are
lake, terre-verte, Prussian blue, and brown pink. By managing these
colours, in glazing, much in the way that Indian ink is used in draw-
ing, and by leaving them very clear and distinct, the better effect will
be produced, and the more transparent and beautiful will they appear
and remain, particularly when done with good drying oil. Next to
these four colours, burnt umbre furnishes a very good warm glazing
brown, extremely serviceable in representing broken grounds and the
nearest objects in the piece: but the most pleasing colour of all, for the
deepest shadows, is the dark-shade, when improved by a mixture of
lake. This gives a fine warm colour when used with drying oil, ming-
ling most harmoniously with all the varieties of light and shade, and
has an admirable effect when applied on the trunks of trees, and in
buildings of every sort.





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I
It is true, in a general sense, that all colour is a modification of light,
and all shadow is a privation of light: but as the rays of light, in pass-
ing through, or merely by the side of bodies, undergo various degrees
of inflection; and above all, as the atmosphere and surfaces of surround-
ing bodies reflect very strongly the rays of light falling upon them,
such a total privation of light, or absolute shadow, does not exist: nor
if it did exist, can the painter hope to succeed in representing it, be-
cause no painting substances, nor compounds of substances, can be found
which will totally absorb, and not in any degree reflect the lights falling
on them: neither would shadows, produced by such substances, were
they to be found, be discernable by the eye, which sees only through
the medium of light. It may, therefore, appear unnecessary, if not er-
roneous, to change the dark shade of ivory black, by the admixture of
lake, Indian red, or any other lighter colour whatever; because the sub-
stances applied to the picture ought to produce the very deepest shadow
possible, which, after all, when observed through the medium of the air
and light, will assume an atmospherical tint, much lighter than it was
the artist's wish to produce.

The colours requisite for the finishing of the second course, are the
middle tints, which should be carefully laid over the broadest lights,
managing them in such a way as not to cover and injure too much of
the glazing. This should be done with a good body of colour, as stiff
as can be conveniently managed by the pencil, to preserve the character
of the objects. The colours of a middle tint ought also to be of a clean
beautiful hue. In this manner it will be easy for the artist to finish the
second painting, as he works downward from the sky through the
middle group. When he comes to the first group, in which the objects
must appear distinct and accurately finished, he should begin and finish
the under, or most distant parts, before he touch any of those which
come most forward to the eye. This method may be observed all the
way down to the last objects of the picture which stand closest to the
spectator; at the same time that the painter is at liberty, for good rea-
sons, (such as that a right effect is not produced by his executing one
tree over and across another) to leave the doing of the second tree until
the first be dry. In doing thin trees near the eye, and of various co-
lours, it will be best to give the under parts time to be well dried be-
fore the finishing colours be laid.

The third and last painting. Here it is sometimes requisite to apply
an oiling; but it ought to be done with the smallest possible quantity,
using a pencil or stump-tool, adapted to the spot to be oiled, that no
other may be in the least touched; after which the oiled place must be
wiped with a piece of a silk handkerchief, that no more oil may remain
on the work than is necessary. An infinite variety of tints are requi-
site in finishing objects of all sorts, especially in trees, by which a rich
harmonious colouring is produced. As green colours are apt to fade
and lose their brightness, sometimes turning very dark, it is proper to
improve and strengthen them by even exaggerating the lights: and for
the same reason great care ought to be used not to overcharge and de-
stroy the beauty of the glazing, lest it become dull and heavy, and con-
sequently dark.
In painting trees near the eye, it is usual to lay on the first colour
approaching to that of nature, but not so dark, and more in the mode
of a middle tint; following it up with improving the middle tints, and
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strengthening the shadows. Last of all, the high lights and finishing
colours are to be applied. All this, however, is not to be properly exe-
cuted at one painting; the best way, therefore, is to do no more than
just the first lay with the fainter shadows; when this is dry, then the
middle tints and shadows should be touched and improved; and suffer-
ing the piece to stand till these last parts are likewise dry, the third and
last operation begins, which consists in adding all the lights and the
finishing colours, in the most masterly manner the painter possesses.
By thus leaving the first and second parts each to dry, the whole work
becomes much easier, and more agreeable in the performance, and the
colours appear to the greatest advantage; as great part of the work may
be done with glazing and scumbling; and in some places no oiling will
be necessary. The lights also may be applied with a better body of
colour, without any danger of their being mixed and injured by the
ground-colouring while wet. What is here observed, regarding the
manner of painting trees, is easily applicable to all sorts of shrubs,
bushes, &c. The figures in a landscape are the last executed parts of
the work; beginning with those in the foreground, and then proceeding
to those at the greatest distance; by which means a standard will be
obtained for proportioning such figures as may occur in the intermediate
spaces, according to their respective situations with respect to the spec-
tator and to each other, and the trees, buildings, or other objects in their
vicinity. It is hardly necessary to remark, that the shadows of the
figures ought to be of the same colour with those of the connecting
group or place where these figures appear.

PORTRAIT PAINTING.
}
If the excellence of all painting consist in an imitation of nature,
this imitation is peculiarly requisite in a portrait, as not only resembling
the human species in general, but some individual person, and therefore
possessing those particular features and other circumstances, by which
this individual is distinguished from all others. To produce this per-
sonal resemblance, a judicious selection of these circumstances is neces-
sary; and the painter is expected to chuse the most favourable position
of the head, or attitude of the whole body, as well as the peculiar mo-
ments of outward indications of the predominant, or at least the most
desirable emotions of the mind; that his production may be a correct
representation of the whole person he is employed to paint. Every in-
dividual possesses some characteristic traits of body and mind, and by
seizing these, the artist will have the best chance for producing a good
portrait: but in the present state of society, artificial manners have so
inuch usurped the place of natural expression, that opportunities of pro-
ducing such portraits seldom present themselves to his eye.
The chief parts of portrait painting are the air and identity, colouring,
attitude, and dress.
Of the air, or more properly the identity of a portrait. This relates
to the lineaments of the countenance, the head-dress, and the size of the
person. The lineaments of the face depend on the correctness of the
drawing, and the exact agreement of the several features and parts; all
combining to show the face in such a manner that the picture may be
a faithful copy of the mind and body of the original. The mere correct-
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ness of drawing is not so likely to give spirit and identity to a portrait,
as the just arrangement of the several parts, taken at the precise moment
when the temper, disposition, or other qualities, are most evidently ex-
pressed in the countenance. It is from an inattention to these circum-
stances, or from an inability in the artist to seize them, that so many
portraits, though designed with considerable accuracy, have a cold, in-
animate, or unmeaning air; whilst others, less correctly drawn, strike
us at first sight with a resemblance of the original. It is of the utmost
importance to a portrait, that the parts be well put together. The fea-
tures must correspond, each contributing its due proportion to the gene-
ral expression: thus, the mouth must not appear to smile while the eyes
are sad, and so on, exhibiting an unnatural and ridiculous air of the
countenance. Although the various ways of arranging the hair may pro-
perly be considered as a part of dress, yet, as it constantly appears to
us in conjunction with the face, it is so closely connected with it in our
imaginations, that attention to the colour and distribution of the hair be-
comes a very important part of the artist's business. The head attire of
an acquaintance to which we have been accustomed, so much contri-
butes to the likeness, that we scarcely know the person in a different wig,
hat, &c. It is, therefore, necessary to take the hair of the head-dress to
accompany and set off the face. Stature is so essential to likeness in ge-
neral, that we often recognise a person without seeing his face: it is
proper, therefore, to draw the size from the original person, but the at-
titude ought, if possible, to be left to the discretion of the painter. The
common practice in taking a likeness, of making the person sit, has many
advantages, but it is rather unfavourable to the figure, as the body is
apt to sink; and if it be kept up by any exertion, the appearances will
be either irregular and dissimilar, at different stages of the business, or
the whole will assume a constrained air, than which nothing can be
more fatal to good effect in a painting. It has often been a question,
whether the portrait painter should attempt, in his representations, to
correct any natural defects in his original. Likeness being the essence
of portraits, it would seem that we ought to imitate defects as well as
beauties, since thus the imitation will be more complete: but the
greater number of persons, although they approve this in theory, show
evidently that they by no means desire to reduce it to practice, parti-
cularly in portraits of their own persons. And here it seems to be but
fair, that some complaisance should be shewn to them by the artist; as
it is very possible to make a picture resemble the original, without giv-
ing any offence: for the likeness consists in the just agreement of the
painting with the natural features, so that one may be at no loss to re-
cognise the idenity of the face, and the general character of the person
represented. All deformities, therefore, when the air and resemblance
may be preserved without them, may fairly be either corrected or omit-
ted, particularly in portraits of women or young persons. Thus, a nose
somewhat awry may be restored; a meagre neck, a high shoulder, &c.
may be adapted to an agreeable air and attitude, without running pal-
pably into extremes. This, however, must be done with great discre-
tion, lest by endeavouring to correct nature on all occasions, the painter
acquire a habit of deviating from his original, and of giving to all his
works one general manner; just as by confining himself too much to copy
every minute peculiarity or defect, he sink into a little mode of execu-
tion, destitute of life and taste.
PAINTING.
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Of the colouring of a portrait. By colouring we exhibit the natural
temperament of the person represented, a most essential part of the like-
ness, and requiring all the artist's skill: for excellence in this part of
his art is much rarer than would be, at first sight, supposed. In co-
louring, the objects are to imitate, with precision the natural tints, and to
apply them in such a way as, without departing from the natural ar-
rangement in the original, may produce the most advantageous effect.
The tints can be learned only from practice, by examining and comparing
the colours we see in life, with those by which we wish to imitate them;
and the art of employing these tints is to place them beside one another,
in such an order as to produce the desired effect, at the same time
making the proper allowances for the changes gradually appearing in
them, after they have been applied, when much of their glowing fresh-
ness will be abated. The painter who does nothing more than repre-
sent what he sees before him, will not easily arrive at a perfect imita-
tion: for though his work may, on the easel, appear proper to himself,
it may have a very different effect on others, and even on himself, when
beheld at a distance. A tint, when near the eye, appears of one colour,
but at some distance varies so, much as to be confounded with other
tints on each side: In order, therefore, that the piece may have its due
effect, when viewed where it is intended to be hung, both the colours
and the lights must be a little loaded, but with discretion and skill. In
this part the artist may learn admirable hints from the works of Titian,
Rubens, Vandyck, and Rembrandt.
เ
The tints commonly demand three separate observations: the first is
at the person's first sitting down to have his picture drawn, when the
exercise and external air may have excited a more lively complexion
than is usual with him; the second when he is somewhat composed,
and has resumed his ordinary colour; the third, when from weariness,
in sitting long in the same posture, the complexion undergoes a change.
On this account the natural complexion, somewhat heightened, may be
the best colour to be applied to the picture.
In painting the drapery, the art ist is to consider, that all sorts and
colours of stuffs do not equally suit all persons. With respect to the
pictures of men, it it enough to preserve truth and manly expression ;
but in those of females, whatever delicate or charming beauties they pos-
sess, must be placed in the most favourable points of view, while their
blemishes or defects are, by some means or other, softened or concealed.
Thus a lively bright white tint or complexion, ought never to be set off
by a yellow drapery, which would make it look like plaster; but rather
by colours inclining to green, blue, or grey, or any others, which, by
their opposition, may make the complexion have more of the consistency
of healthy carnation.
The colour and tone of the ground are of great importance, and must
be governed by laws similar to those for draperies: as the ground must
be different from the mass it supports, that the objects placed on it may
not appear transparent, but solid, and raised above it. This ground
must be determined by the colour of the hair: but when this is of a
bright chesnut, it is difficult to find a good ground, unless when a cur-
tain, or some other contrivance of the chiaro oscuro, or the sky, be intro-
duced. When the ground is none of these, but a plain surface, such as
a wall, it has a good effect to represent this surface variegated with a
multitude of tints and shades of colour, which not only resembles the
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true colour of such an object, but furnishes the artist with the means of
assorting his materials, so as to produce the greatest harmony of
tints.
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Of Attitude and Posture. Persons ought to be represented in such
postures and attitudes as are most suitable to their ages, tempers, qua-
lities, and other peculiar circumstances. Thus old men and women
should be grave and majestic; and in general women ought to appear
with a noble simplicity and modest cheerfulness; for modesty ought ever
to be the characteristic of the fair sex, possessing a charm infinitely be
yond artifice and coquetry. Attitudes are of different sorts, according
as the person is in motion or at rest. Motions are most suitable to young
persons, but rest is applicable to all. Motions demand great skill in the
artist, not only in the arrangement of limbs, but in seizing such acci-
dental appearances as are the effect of motion, and by which alone
motion can be represented in painting; such as the hair and drapery be-
ing thrown into positions, which, from observation, we know them to
assume, in different degrees of motion. On the other hand, a person at
rest is not to appear as entirely inactive, or as one who sits for no other
purpose but merely to have his picture made. Figures at rest in the
open air, or in a situation where the wind may have access to them, may
likewise acquire a share of the animation properly created by motion,
by the action of the wind on the hair and drapery. But in whatever
situation or attitude the figures are represented, they must appear na-
turally, and totally devoid of affectation, which produces the same dis-
gust when discovered in a painting, as in the living original; and from
this affectation, but too common in the world, arises a great obstacle to
the artist's success, in giving correct, and at the same time natural and
graceful likenesses.
The following are the principal colours used in the flesh, from which
the tints are made :-
Flake white, or fine white, is the best we have. It ought to be ground
with the finest poppy-oil that can be procured: and the defects of this
colour are more frequently occasioned by the quality of the oil, than of
the white itself. White is a kindly working colour, which comes for
ward with reds and yellows, but retires with blues and greens. It is the
nature of all whites to sink into the ground on which they are laid, on
which account they ought to be laid on white grounds.
Ivory black; an exceeding fine colour, which mixes well with the
others, and is the genuine shade for blues. It is ground with linseed-
oil, and when used with drying-oil and sugar of lead, is a cold retiring
colour.
Ultramarine is the finest blue that can be found; it is of a tender re-
tiring nature, and never glares; but is a beautiful glazing colour: ul-
tramarine is used with poppy-oil.
Prussian blue is a very fine kindly working colour. It is ground with
linseed oil; but nut-oil seems more proper for this purpose. It should
never be used in the flesh, but answers well in the eyes, and in green
tints.
1
Light ochre is a friendly mixing colour, and of great service in the
flesh. It is usually ground with linseed-oil, but nut-oil would be bet
ter. All yellows are strengthened by reds, and weakened by blues and
greens.
Light red (light ochre burnt) mixed with white, produces an excel
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lent flesh-colour. It is clean and beautiful, and works kindly, although
too strong for whites, and is apt to grow darker. This colour should
be ground and used with nut oil.
Vermilion ought never to be employed, unless it be made of genuine
native cinnabar. It will not glaze, but is a fine colour when glazed upon.
It is ground with linseed oil, and ought to be used with drying oil.
Carmine is the most beautiful crimson colour that we know, being a
middle colour between vermilion and lake. It is a fine working and
glazing colour, and ought to be ground with nut oil, but used with
drying oil.
Lake is a deep red, but tender, and unites readily with others; as it
is not of a strong body, it should be increased with Indian red: and is
an admirable glazing colour. It is ground with linseed oil, and used
with drying oil.
Indian red is a strong pleasant working colour, but does not glaze
well, and falls a little when mixed with white. This red is ground and
used in the same way as lake.
Brown pink is of no great body, but it glazes well. In the flesh it
ought not to join or mix the whites, to avoid producing a dirty warm
colour; therefore their joinings should be blended with some cold mid-
dle tint. In glazing shadows this brown pink should be laid on before
the other colours by which it is to be enriched. As it is one of the co-
lours employed in finishing, it ought not to be used alone in the first
painting. It is usually strengthened with burnt umbre, and weakened
with terre-verte; and is ground with linseed oil, and used with dry-
ing oil.


Burnt umbre is a good warm brown strong colour, and works well
of great use in painting hair, and mixes finely with the warm shade.
The principal tints for the flesh are the following, all formed out of
the colours just mentioned :-
The light red tint, made of light red and white, is an excellent ground
for the flesh and with the shade tint, is employed to make out the flesh,
in the manner of the chiaro oscuro. As this colour is too strong for
white, and apt to grow darker, it ought to be improved by the addition
of a little vermilion and white, to suit the fairness of the complexion.
In this state it is still called the light-red tint, and should not be con-
founded with the vermilion tint.
Vermilion lint is only vermilion and white mixed to a middle tint, which
is the brightest light-red that can be made; and agrees well with the
white, the light-red, and the yellow tints.
I
Carmine tint is carmine and white mixed to a middle tint. This is
the most beautiful of all reds for the cheeks and lips. It is one of the
finishing colours, and not to be used in the first painting, but laid on
the finishing colours, without mixing with them.
Rose tint is a compound of white and the red shade, and one of the
most delicate clean tints used in the flesh, for clearing up the heavy co-
lours in changing it mixes and sympathizes kindly with the others.
Yellow tint is formed of various substances, sometimes of Naples yel-
low and white; and also of light ochre and white, which is a good work-
ing colour. As the ochre is too strong for the white, care must be used
in employing it. This tint follows the light-red tints, but ought to be
laid before the blues: should too much of it be applied, the ground may
be restored by the use of the light-red tints.
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PAINTING.
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Blue tint is composed of ultramarine and white, brought to a light
azure; and is a pleasant working colour for blending the gradations. It
follows the yellows, and with them forms the greens: with red it forms
the purples. The blue tint is of great service in blending and soften-
ing the lights, to produce keeping.
Lead tint is made of ivory black and fine white, mixed to a middle
degree: this is a good retiring colour, and of great use in the gradations,
and in the eyes.
This
Green tint consists of Prussian blue, light ochre, and white.
ought to be used sparingly in the middle tints, as it dirties the lights:
it is generally used in the red shadows, when they are too strong, and
does not unite well with other colours.
Shade tint is made of lake, Indian red, black, and white, mixed up to
a fine murrey colour of a middle tint. It is an excellent ground for
shadows, and hence it has its name; with the lights it produces a beau-
tiful clean colour, inclining to the reddish pearl. As it consists of
friendly working colours, the shade itself is of the same nature, and may
be easily changed by the addition of other colours.
Red shade is made of lake, with a very small portion of Indian red,
and is a delightful working colour, and glazes well: it strengthens the
shadows on the shade tint, and when wet receives the green and blue
tints very agreeably. It is often used as ground for dark shadows.
Dark shade consists of ivory black and a small quantity of Indian
red: it mixes kindly with the red shade, and unites agreeably with the
middle tints of the dead colouring. It is an excellent glazing colour for
the eye-brows and the darkest shadows, and in general one of the best
working colours used in painting.
The first painting, otherwise called the dead-colouring, is divided in-
to two parts, the first lay or ground, and the laying on the virgin tints.
The first lay is also divided into two parts, of which the one is to work the
shadows only, and the other the lights. The work of the shadows con-
sists in making out all the drawing very accurately with the shade-tint,
just as if the piece were to be finished in this way alone: and the colour
must be laid or driven very sparingly. The lights should be laid with
the light-red tint, with the various gradations observed in nature. These
colours, when properly united, produce a clean tender middle tint; be-
cause, by mixing with the shade-tint, they change to a pearly hue, and
when strengthened with the light-red, they imitate very correctly the
appearances of nature. In uniting the lights and shades, a long softener
or sweetener, about the size of a swan-quill, is to be used, which will
render the colouring more delicate, and produce a proper effect: and the
darkest shadows must be gone over with the red or warm shade, in or-
der to give the finishing to the first lay, or dead-colouring. When the
warm shade is laid on the shade-tint, it gives a warmer hue: but when
laid instead of the shade-tint, the colours it mixes with afterwards are
dirtied and spoiled: again, if the red-tint be first laid, instead of the
shade-tint, the shadows will appear too red, and of the colour of blood.
It hence follows, that although the warm-shade and red-shade are both
excellent colours for shadows, yet they ought never to be laid alone, but
always after the shade-tint.



So much for the first part of the first painting: in the second part, or
finishing of this stage of the work, the first attention must be given to
the improvement of the reds and yellows, and next to the blues, to ac-
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commodate them to the complexion; remembering always that the
blues on the reds make the purples, and on the yellows give the greens.
The same is to be done with respect to the shadows, leaving them
clean, and not too dark, because in glazing they will become darker.
Should the cloth on which the painting is executed be of a dark, or a
bad colour, a strong body must be laid all over the shadows, of such a
nature as not to sink into the ground, but have a warm hue, a little
lighter than nature; so that it may be in the same state of advance for
finishing, as if it had been a light ground. The art in managing the
dead colouring is therefore to bring it to the same degree of forwardness
for the last touches, as if the cloth had been of the most favourable co-
lour. The grounds of shadows in dead-colouring should be such as will
best support the finishing colours; that is, it must be clean, and a little
lighter than these last, because the finishing part consists in glazing,
which darkens the colours glazed; and without glazing, their beauty
and brilliancy cannot be brought forward. It is, therefore, improper to
glaze the shadows in the first painting, instead of laying a body of sha-
dow colours near to, but lighter than the life. When these colours are
dry, they may be glazed and touched with great ease and advantage;
but if the first painting begins with glazing, the solid colours afterwards
laid on it will look dull and heavy. All colours and shadows, therefore,
that are to be glazed, ought to be laid with a clean solid body, as then
the glazing is most lasting, and has the best effect. Nothing should re-
main after this operation that can have the appearance of roughness, to
hurt the character of the finishing colours: and this may be done by
means of a soft tool, when the work is wet, or by a knife, when dry, to
remove all roughness or inequalities in the surface of the painting.
The second painting begins with laying on a very small quantity of
poppy-oil, which is again wiped almost entirely off with a piece of dry
silk handkerchief. The second painting is, like the first, divided into
two parts, one called the first lay of the second painting, that is, scum-
bling the lights and glazing the shadows; the other part is the finishing
of the complexion with the virgin tints, and improving the likeness, as
far as can be, without loading it. By scumbling is meant the practice of
going over the lights, where any change is to be produced with the
light-red tints, or some other of their own colours, with short stiff pen-
cils, to clear and improve the complexion. This operation, however,
must be done with great caution, lest the beauty of the first painting be
spoiled. The light-red tint improved is the best colour for scumbling,
and in general for improving the complexion: but where the drawing and
shadows are to be corrected, it should be done with shade-tint, driving
the colour very stiff, that it may be the more easily retouched and
changed by the application of the finishing tints. Some parts of the
shadows ought to be glazed with a transparent shadow-colour, approach-
ing to the natural hues; but so gently as not to injure the tone of the
first painting, the ground of which should always appear through the
glazing. In mixing the lights and shades particular caution is requisite
that they do not become dead and mealy, as it is called, which is the case
when they are too much mixed together. When all this is done, the
complexion is improved and prepared for receiving the virgin tints and
finishing touches. The second part of the second painting consists in
going over the complexion with the virgin tints, or those colours which
are employed to give the highest perfection of colouring to both lights

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and shadows. This operation is performed in the same way as in the
second part of the first painting, that is with reds, yellows, and blues,
blending them together with light delicate touches of the tender middle
tints, but without softening. The tints and their grounds must be left
clean and distinct, and the farther improvements reserved for another
course, lest in attempting to give the finishing touches, before the preced-
ing courses are dry, the hues be changed, and the drawing and character
of the parts be spoiled.
The third painting or finishing. The complexion is now supposed to
be so far advanced as to need only a few light touches; no oiling is
therefore required. The first step is to examine all the glazing, and cor-
rect what may be amiss; and where this glazing serves only as a ground
or under-part, it is proper to consider what is next to be done, that the
alteration may, if possible, be performed at once. This preserves both
the glazing and the tints, but cannot always be done, as it frequently
happens that no such variety of tints and finishing colours can be brought
together and laid on at the same time, without endangering the effect of
the whole. In this case it is best to leave off while the work is unin-
jured, and to stay till the colours are dry, before the few remaining
touches are applied, which may be done without oiling, by some free
light strokes of the pencil.
Of back-grounds. By a story told of Rubens, we are authorised to as-
sert, that, in his opinion the back-ground is of the greatest consequence
to the effect of a picture. Rubens being desired to take under his in-
struction a young painter, the person who recommended him, in order to
induce Rubens the more readily to receive him, said that the youth was
already somewhat advanced in the art, and that he might be of imme-
diate assistance in the back-grounds. Rubens smiling at this person's
simplicity, answered that, if the youth was capable of painting back-
grounds, he stood in no need of his instructions; for that the regulation
and management of them required the most comprehensive knowledge
of the art. The back-ground must be in unison with the figure, so as
not to have the appearance of inlaid work, like Holbein's portraits, which
are often on a bright green or blue ground. "To prevent this effect,"
says Sir Joshua Reynolds, "the ground must partake of the colour of
the figure, or contain such a mixture as to exhibit in it something of
every colour in the pallet. The back-ground likewise determines where
and in what part the figure is to be relieved. When the form is
beautiful, it ought to be shown distinctly, but when on the contrary, it
is uncouth, in shape or hue, it may be lost in the back-ground. Some-
times a light is introduced, to join and extend the light on the figure,
and the dark side of the figure is lost in a still darker back-ground; for
the fewer the outlines which cut against the ground, the richer will be
the effect; as the contrary produces what is called the dry manner.'
Vandyck generally made out the keeping of his back-grounds more by
the opposition and the harmony of the colours than by the practice of
the chiaro oscuro. The difference between his manner of treating light
and shade, and that of Rembrandt, is very remarkable. Vandyck's usual
method was to be very stiff and mellow, and to break the colours of the
ground with those of the drapery. This will certainly produce har-
mony, the principles of which properly belong to the art of colouring :
but it is the knowledge of light and shade which gives the astonishing
force and strength so observable in the works of Rembrandt. There is
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a picture of this artist representing a lady, where he has made the ground
just light enough to shew her complexion and hair, which is of a dark
brown, in the greatest perfection: the back-ground is a wall, which,
near the face, is lighter than the shadows of the flesh: but this light di-
minishes so artfully in the gradations, that though the part of the wall
which surrounds the head is much darker, yet it appears to be of the
same colour with that near the flesh. Vandyck, on the other hand, has
given relief to the head, by making the ground almost of the same co-
lour with the hair; and although his skill was admirable in breaking the
colours of the ground with those of the draperies, yet there appears a
sameness in the effect of some of his pictures, where this principle of
relief seems to be carried to the extreme.
The principal colours necessary for painting back-grounds in portraits
are the following, viz:-white, black, Indian red, light and brown ochres,
Prussian blue, and burnt umber; from which the principal tints
are formed, viz.-Pearl, made of black, white, and a little Indian
red. Lead, of black and white, mixed up to a dark lead-colour. Yel-
low, of brown ochre and white. Olive, consisting of light ochre, Prus-
ian blue, and white. Flesh-colour, made of Indian red and white, mix-
ed to a middle tint. Murrey, consisting of Indian red, white, and a lit-
tle black, mixed to a kind of purple, of a middle tint. Stone-colour, of
white, umbre, black, and Indian red. Dark shade, made of black and
Indian red only.
Painting of back-grounds is divided into two parts, the first lay, and the
finishing tints. In the first lay the learner is to begin from the shadowed
side of the head, painting first the lights; thence go to the shadows and
gradations, which should be done with a large tool of middling stiffness,
in a sparing way, with the dark shades and white a little tinged with those
colours requisite to give it somewhat of the proper hue, but nearly of
the proper tone and strength. The warm dark shadows ought to be laid
before the colours that are to connect with them, by means of the dark-
shade and umbre, with drying oil; for if those colours were first laid
they would injure the transparency, in which the greatest beauty con-
sists. The more the first lay is driven, the easier it will be to change it
with the finishing tints, which may then be laid with the greater body.
The second part of the first lay ought to follow immediately, whilst the
colours of the first part are wet and flowing, beginning with the lights,
and heightening and finishing with warmer colours, accompanied with
fine tender cold tints. The lightest part of the ground is nearest to the
shadowed side of the head, and generally governs the rest of the ground.
It should be done with a variety of light, warm, clear colours, varnish-
ing and losing their strength imperceptibly in the gradations. These
ought to be laid with a sort of cloudy touch, and not appear in distinct
spots; observing never to conceal too much of the first lay, which is to
be regarded as the principal colour. From the lights the next step is to
the gradations and shadows; for when the lights are properly adapted
to bring forward and support the head, it is not difficult to fall from these
into any sort of shadows that may be best suited to the work. The
whole must then be blended and softened with a long large tool, which,
together with the body of the drying oil, will mingle and sweeten the
whole in such a manner as to give it a finished appearance. It is to be
noticed, however that, in drying, the tints will sink and lose a little of
their strength and beauty. The grounds, whether walls, &c. ought, if pos

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PAINTING.
sible, to be finished at one painting; but if any alterations should be ne-
cessary they may be glazed with a little of the dark-shade, well driven
with drying oil; on which the proper improvements may be made by
some light touches of the requisite colours. The dark shadows may
likewise be strengthened and improved by glazing, after the figures
are nearly finished, lest they should appear too strong-Fresnoy
says,
"By mellowing skill thy ground at distance cast,
"Free as the air and transient as its blast ;
"There all thy liquid colours sweetly blend,
"There all the treasures of thy pallet spend,
"And every form retiring to that ground,
"Of hue congenial to itself compound."
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SCENE PAINTING.
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Although this be a particular branch of painting, yet it generally
is, and always ought to be united with other parts of art, such as
architecture, perspective, landscape, statuary, &c; and for this reason
it requires in the artist an extent and variety of knowledge far be
yond what is commonly supposed. It is a good practice in this branch
to draw the intended scenes by day-light, that they may be the more
accurately designed, and that the painter, or his assistants, may have
opportunities of examining, at proper distances, the effects produced by
the outline and other boundaries, before the work be filled
with co-
lour and shaded; which last part of the process is best performed, for
a similar reason, by candle-light, as it is by this light the scene is to be
exhibited; and the effects of candle-light, on certain colours, (blue and
green for example) as well as on the shading, the perspective, the re-
lief of the figures, and other circumstances of great importance to the
intended effect, are too well known to require any illustration in this
place. In theatrical decorations the artist ought, as much as possible,
to avoid joining imitations of nature with nature itself; that is, he ought
never to introduce, as component parts of these decorations or scenes,
living men, horses, or other animals, or real trees, fountains, cascades,
statues, &c. for such combinations indicate either a depraved taste, or
ignorance and want of genius. Another point in which scene-painting
is often improperly conducted, is when the landscape, street, house, or
other scene represented, does not correspond to the characters, and times
of the action carrying on in them. This incongruity is as great an er-
ror as any that can be committed in the dress and appearance of the
characters, or in any other branch of the costume; and has a great ten-
dency to destroy the effect of the theatrical exhibition.
?
OF MOSAIC PAINTING.
**
This species of representation of objects has had its name probably
from its being chiefly used by the ancients in adorning their studies,
cabinets, or museums; and vestiges of it are frequently discovered in
this country, as well as in every other where the Romans were esta-
blished: it is by their writers, commonly called opus musivum. Mosaic
painting, if it may be so called, is performed with small pieces of marble,
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PAINTING.
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or other natural stone, cut into parallelopipeds, in breadth and thickness
resembling a die, but twice as much in length. These dies are of every
variety of colour, and fixed in due order, in a cement applied to the
floor or wall of the apartment. The modern mosaic is generally execut-
ed with small pieces of half-vitrified paste, of every possible gradation
of colour. The first part of the operation is to have a design or draw-
ing of the intended picture, from which the mosaic is to be copied.
A cement or plaster is made of hard stone pounded, and brick dust,
worked up with gum tragacanth and whites of eggs, which is laid
thick on the wall to receive the painting, and only what is sufficient for
the work of three or four days is applied at a time, that it may not dry
and harden too much for use. The design upon paper is then applied
to the plaster or ground, and traced with a sharp point: after which
the dies, as they may be termed, previously arranged in small cases, ac-
cording to their various gradations of colour, are lifted with a pair of
pliers, and placed in their due situations, one close to another, the artist
keeping strictly to the lights, shadows, tints, and colours of the original
design. The dies are pressed into the cement or ground, by applying
a ruler over a number of them in different directions, that their surface
may become as regular and even as is possible, by which the effect is
much improved. This operation, it is evident, must proceed very slow-
ly; but when it is executed, the colours being incorporated in the sub-
stance of the die, reduced by fire nearly to the state of glass, are never
to be affected by the air, moisture, or any external accident; and they
possess a lustre not to be attained by any other branch of the art of
painting. In Rome and its neighbourhood are many curious specimens
of this art, in which the colours are perfectly preserved; particularly
the famous piece representing three pigeons on the edge of a bason of
water, which was described by Pliny. The finest pieces of modern art
are to be seen in St. Peter's church at Rome, where, as paintings, either
from humidity, smoke of tapers and lamps, or other causes, were liable
to be damaged, copies executed in mosaic of this description, have been
substituted, in which the design, the colours, the delicate gradation of
tints, have been so closely and so skilfully imitated, that, at a proper
distance, the eye cannot discover whether what it sees be a painting, or
a piece of mosaic. Adjoining St. Peter's was the place where the ope-
ration was carried on, and greatly encouraged by the late Pope Pius
the sixth. One of the niceties of the art is to compose the dies of such
substances as shall, after being exposed to a violent heat, produce pre-
cisely the tints required; an operation demanding great skill and at-
tention in those employed to perform it. When mosaic is executed
with marble the manner of working is different. The ground is usual-
ly a large slab of solid marble, white or black, on which the design is
traced, and then cut out with a chissel, to the depth of an inch or more.
These cavities are then filled up with pieces of marble of the proper
colours, shaped agreeably to the design, and just thick enough to fill
the cavities. These pieces are made to retain their places by means of
a cement composed of lime and marble dust, or in any other way more
agreeable to the choice of the artist. When the figures are thus marked
out, the artist draws with a pencil the colours not determined by the
ground itself, which strokes being likewise hollowed out with the chissel,
the cavities are filled up with a black cement, composed of Burgundy
pitch, poured on while hot. What is superfluous is then scraped off

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with a piece of soft stone or brick and water; and the surface of the
work polished until it assumes the appearance of one solid piece of
marble. Admirable examples of this species of mosaic were to be seen
in the chapel of the hospital of invalids at Paris, and in that of the
palace of Versallies. Mosaic works are also executed with precious
stones cut into very thin leaves, and fixed on a stone ground: the ope-
ration is performed much in the same manner with the former kinds of
mosaic. In France a sort of imitation of mosaic is executed by means
of gypsum or plaster of Paris. This is well calcined in a kiln, beaten
in a mortar and sifted; with this the ground is formed, either entirely,
or only laid on a surface of stone. When the ground is to be made
entirely of this plaster, it is poured to the depth of five or six inches,
into a frame, so made as to be easily taken in pieces; and the bottom
of it covered with a linen cloth tightly stretched. When the plaster is
nearly dry, the frame is set up on its edge, and the plaster is left to
harden, having been previously mixed and boiled up with fine glue and
the colour intended for the ground. The design or figure is then traced
on this surface, and hollowed out as in marble, being little less hard,
and the cavities filled up with other gypsum or plaster, boiled and pre-
pared as the former, of different colours, to suit those of the design.
When this operation is finished, the work is polished with soft stone
sand and water, then with pumice, and lastly with emery; and the fine
lustre is given to it by rubbing it with oil and the palm of the hand.
We are told by the historians of Mexico, that the natives of that
country had arrived at wonderful perfection in a sort of mosaic paint-
ing, executed with the natural feathers of the great variety of birds,
with which that region abounds. The same thing has been done in
Europe, as well as with wool and other similar materials.
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PAINTING IN FRESCO.
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Painting in fresco is considered as the most ancient, the most speedily
executed, and the most durable branch of the art, as well as the most
suitable for ornamenting great buildings. From the fragments that have
come down to our times, it appears that the Romans worked much in
this way; and travellers in Egypt tell us of colossal figures, painted on
walls of palaces and temples in that country, eighty feet high. By the
discription given of the ground of these pictures, and of the way in
which the colours seem to have been employed, they must have been
done in what is now called fresco. The durability of this kind of paint-
ing is proved by the existence of these works; for no other sort could
so long have resisted the effects of the weather, or the rude attacks of
the barbarous inhabitants amongst whom they are found. Authors are
divided as to the best climate and situation for paintings in this way:
some asserting, that at Paris, for example, such works stand longer
than in the south of France or Italy, on account of the lower degree of
heat this is as positively denied by others, who affirm that fresco paint-
ings are longer preserved in dry and warm climates than in those that
are moist and cold. But other circumstances ought to be taken into
consideration, such as the effects of a fire in the apartment where the
paintings are; and of the frost, when allowed to penetrate to them; for
frost, as is well known, will burst stones, and affect the internal parts
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PAINTING.
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of the bodies on which the paintings are performed, as well as the sub-
stances of which they consist. The choice of place where fresco is to
be executed is therefore of the highest importance. In a country
where frosts are little felt, the best situation seems to be a northern ex-
posure, but in cold climates a western exposure promises to be more
favourable; as were the painting exposed to the sun's rays, immediately
or soon after the frost, the effect would be very pernicious. Moisture,
however, does not appear to be so dangerous to works in fresco as has
been supposed, of which we have instances in the ancient paintings res-
cued from damp places where they had lain covered for many ages, un-
der heaps of earth, and yet have retained their colours in great perfec-
tion: and many of which, as those discovered in the ruins of Hercula-
num, overwhelmed by Mount Vesuvius, lost their colour soon after they
were exposed to and dried by the external air.

In executing fresco paintings, next to the choice of a situation, the
choice of the necessary materials is of the greatest importance; as its
durability depends chiefly on the ground on which it is executed. For
it will readily be perceived, that minuteness of detail in the forms, an
extensive mixture and gradation of tints, delicacy of touch, can make
no part of the merits of this kind of painting. It cannot support a nar-
row examination like a work in oil, because, from its nature, it is liable
to a hard and rough appearance, which would offend when brought
near the eye. Fresco paintings are chiefly employed in palaces, temples,
and other public edifices; and in such situations it is preferable to any
other, from the size, the boldness of design, and the freshness of co-
louring of the figures. They have, in particular, an admirable effect in
the roof of a dome, and transport the imagination far beyond the limits
of the building.
1
Fresco painting is usually executed in the following manner:-It is
necessary to apply to the wall two layers for the ground work: when
this is a brick wall, these layers are easily applied; but when it is of
stone, holes are made in it, to receive large nails or wooden pegs to hold
fast the first coating of the ground. The first layer is made of good
lime and a cement composed of pounded brick, or of what is still bet-
ter, river sand, which makes a surface more rough and uneven than the
pounded brick, and therefore better suited for retaining the second
layer. The first layer ought to be perfectly dry before the second, on
which the painting is to be done, be applied. The second layer con-
sists of lime slaked in the open air, and left exposed for a year to the
weather, mixed with river sand, moderately fine, and of an equal grain.
This is applied with a trowel to the first layer, whose surface has been
previously wetted, to make the two unite, and requires great skill and
dexterity in the artist, that the last surface may be made perfectly even
and regular. A fine polish is given to this second layer by applying a
sheet of smooth paper to it, and again going over the paper with the
trowel, to remove even the smallest inequalities which would give a
false appearance to what is to be painted on them, according to the po-
sition and distance of the spectator. The artist employed on this pre-
paratory work, is to lay only so much ground as the painter can exe-
cute in a day; as this kind of painting can only be performed when the
ground is fresh laid on and smoothed. When the layers are thus pre-
pared the painter begins his work; but as he must work rapidly, and
as there is no time to retouch any of the strokes, he must have by him
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896.
PAINTING.
large cartoons, on which are drawn, with correctness, and in full size,
the figures to be painted; that he may have nothing to do but to copy
them on the wall. The cartoons are a number of sheets of large strong
paper, either single, or several folds pasted together, as may be most
suitable to the painter's purpose. These cartoons are applied to the
surface of the wall, and the various outlines, features, &c. are traced
on the plaster, by going over the cartoon with a steel point, or merely
by pricking small holes through the paper. When in this manner an
accurate and speedy drawing is obtained, nothing remains but to exe-
cute the painting. The colours are laid on while the layer of plaster
is moist, and they ought not to be retouched when dry, with other
colours mixed with the white of eggs, gum, &c. as has sometimes been
practised; as these last are sure to turn black, and none but such as
are laid on the moist plaster retain their hues. The colours commonly
used are a white, made of lime slaked a long while before it is em-
ployed in the painting, and the dust of white marble; ochres, both red
and yellow; verditer, lapis lazuli, sm lt, black chalk, &c. all which
substances are simply ground down a id worked up with water; and
most of them grow brighter as the plaster dries. The brushes and
pencils used are long and soft, that they may not scratch or raise the
painting. The colours ought to be full, and flowing freely from the
tools; and great care must be taken that the design be perfect at first,
since no alteration can be made after the work is dry, nor any colour
added or changed.
PAINTING IN Water COLOURS.
This stile of painting can only be considered as coloured drawing,
in which the white surface of the paper serves for the lights. All the
middle tints are done with transparent colours, and of course have no
thickness of body on the paper. The shadows are first prepared with
Indian ink, and afterwards glazed agreeably to the various tints and
tones of the objects to be represented. The tints are composed in the
same way with painting in what the French artists call gouache, or body
colours; but with this difference, that white is never employed, and
that the colours are to be laid on very thin. The objects ought to be
exhibited more brilliant than they are in themselves, on account of the
Indian ink used in the first wash or preparation, which always dimi-
nishes the strength of the other colours applied over it. Prussian blue,
which has a tendency to turn dark and black, ought to be very seldom
used in this species of drawing. The very expeditious manner by
which the endless variety of natural objects around us can be thus re-
presented, renders drawing in water colours extremely pleasing and
valuable and it is in this way that many beginners have acquired a
knowledge of the effects of colours; studying this branch as introduc-
tory to the other classes of painting.
That branch of water-colour painting, called gouache, may be consi-
dered as having preceded all the others, and is perhaps the most an-
cient. The colours first used were probably only various natural sub-
stances, such as stones, earths, &c. ground to powder and made liquid
with water. These preparations, however, were soon discovered to be
very imperfect; and to give to them a proper degree of body or con-

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sistency, gums of various sorts were gradually introduced into the com-
positions. Gums, however, being liable, in drying, to darken and
change the brilliancy of the colours, experience at last substituted other
ingredients for the same purpose. At present the best artists, instead
of gum, make use of double size, prepared from parchment or fine glove
leather; which is not liable, like gum, to change or crack the colour.
A small ball of this size, put in a glass of water, will be sufficient for
every purpose. Many artists have been discouraged by the difficulties
of executing this species of painting, which are not to be overcome but
by the greatest assiduity and attention. The most common defect is in
making the tints feeble and undetermined, or too thick in body, and of
a greyish hue, which gives the painting a pale mealy appearance.
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In painting in body colours, or in gouache, the first thing to be done,
is to paste the paper on a board, of mahogany or walnut-tree, taking
care that the surface be perfectly even and smooth, that the paper
may lie quite flat: on the other side paste another sheet of paper of
the same quality, that the board being acted on equally on both sides,
may be kept from warping or cracking, by the effect of the atmo-
sphere. In applying the paper to the board, the best paste is made
of starch or fine flour, mixed up with double size, or Flanders glue,
diluted and purified with vinegar and to prevent both paper and
wood from being worm-eaten, a small quantity of garlic ought to be
mixed with the paste. When the board is thus prepared, the out-
line is to be drawn with a black lead pencil, taking care that the lines
are sufficiently strong to resist the application of the first tint. When
this is done, the sky of the landscape is to be laid with a tint com-
posed of white mixed with Prussian blue, and a very small quantity
of lake, to prevent it from appearing too cold. This tint must be ex-
tended very lightly, and without thickness, to the parts next to the
horizon, mixing gradually the white, that the strength of the colour
may gradually decrease, on approaching the mountains, or other parts
that seem to unite and blend with the atmosphere. The mountains
are done with the first tint, in which has been mixed a little more blue
and lake, so as to render the tint more decided, and give the moun-
tains a relief from the sky which joins them. The lights of the
nountains are done with a tint somewhat paler than those of the lower
parts on the horizon. In executing the trees nearest the horizon, the
first deep tint of the mountains and hills is used, but warmed with
a mixture of Naples yellow and brown pink. Prussian blue or brown
pink are used to give the different objects their respective hues, ac-
cording to their several distances, and the planes or elevations on which
they appear. In general the rocks and trees, in the first and second
distances, are done with brown pink, sap green, and lake, mixed to-
gether; more of the brown pink than of the sap green, or Prussian
blue, being employed for the trees than for the rocks. The sap green
must be used carefully in the trees, for being of a glutinous nature,
it will, if suffered to predominate, give a greasiness to the paper, and
prevent the second tints from spreading freely. Should, in the land-
scape, a lake or a river appear, this part of the picture must be so
washed as to reflect similar tints on the hills, trees, or other objects that
may be in the neighbourhood; and their several contours must be ac-
curately represented on the water. For such parts of the water as re-
flect the sun's rays, the same tints are to be employed as in painting

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the most brilliant clouds. o form the middle tints and shadows, to
the reflect tints add a little brown pink, Prussian blue, or lake, accord-
ing to circumstances; and in the dark or dull parts a little sap green
must be added. When the first wash, or course, is executed in this
manner, then the foliage and other minute parts are to be done, deepen-
ing the shades in the proper places. The darkest tint is composed of
brown pink, indigo, yellow orpiment, or yellow ochre, as the subject
may require. As the work proceeds, the light masses of the trees must
be kept more and more bright and brilliant; which is done with yellow
orpiment. Rocks are painted with infinite variety of tints, grey, violet,
iron-coloured, greenish, and a yellowish green. The grey tints are
made with Naples yellow, blue, black, and a little lake, which, when
well mixed together, form a very brilliant and transparent grey tint.
It is scarcely necessary to warn the artist, that in this, as in all other
kinds of painting, white lead should be used as seldom as possible; for
it not only loses its own colour, but has a very hurtful effect on all others
that come near it. The grey tints are employed in the shadows, as are
also those of the iron colour, consisting of brown ochre, burnt terra di
sienna, and a little green. These tints may be still heightened by the
addition of a little ivory black. The violet tints are generally made
with Naples yellow, lake, and blue black. Green tints are composed
of blues and yellows: but in mixing these, orpiment ought not to be
united with what is commonly called Sanders blue, green verditer, or
grass green, because these combinations never produce any steady na-
tural hues. The yellowish green tints consist of yellow ochre, brown
pink, and indigo. When the work is thus finished, it must be glazed
over with some light transparent tint, to give the several colours their
proper union and harmony. The number of these glazing tints will de-
pend on the judgment of the artist, to suit the several degrees of shade
in which the several parts are represented. They commonly consist of
Prussian blue, lake, and a very little sap green: but no precise rules
can be given for proportioning the quantities of the different ingredients,
which must be accommodated to the various purposes for which the glaz-
ing is intended. In finishing the picture the greatest care is requisite,
for preserving the spirit and lightness of the first sketch: for which pur-
pose the tints carried partially over the first colour ought to be only mo-
derately thick, even on the fore grounds or other parts where they are
to appear pretty strong.
1
By a careful attention to these directions the beginner may hope to
give to gouache a vigour and perfection nearly approaching to the
strength and character of oil painting. This art requires a long and as-
siduous application; but it is a most agreeable study, and is not attend-
ed by those inconveniences which almost inseparably accompany paint-
ing in oil colours. It requires also great correctness and delicacy; for
the colours must be ground down and purified in the best manner, that
their particles may be perfectly combined, and the greatest brilliancy and
beauty be produced by the different tints. It is likewise of the greatest
importance to be able to judge of the nature and mixture of the various
colouring substances employed, that no injury may be received from
the effects of the air, or of the various vapours and effluvia floating in it.
Particular care is necessary with regard to the different orpiments,
which ought to be used sparingly, and in general reserved for the most
brilliant touches of light.

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Painting in water-colours is seldom used for historical compositions or
figures, which are usually treated in oil: yet it has, nevertheless, its pe-
culiar beauties and advantages. The colours are free from any offensive
smell, and are often made to produce very rich and pleasing effects. As
it would be impossible to convey by words correct ideas of the vari-
ous combinations, tones, and gradations of colours, it is evident that the
advices here given must be taken in a very extensive sense, and adapted
by the artist to the particular circumstances of the intended work. They
may, however, serve to point out the principles on which this part of
painting are conducted, to be varied agreeably to the effects desired: at
the same time that it is to be noticed, the same colours, in the same propor-
tions, will not produce the same harmony, or appearance, when situated
near, or in the midst of others of a different sort. The chief materials
in painting with water-colours are, gum arabic, pencils, a pallet, com-
monly made of ivory: but a Dutch tile, or any other well-glazed sur-
face, of a light colour, will serve the purpose; an ivory pallet-knife, be-
cause iron or steel is injurious to the colours.
In beginning to paint the artist is to have before him all the colours
ready for use; a pallet to mix them on; a paper to lay under the hand
to avoid soiling the work, as well as to try the pencils and colours on it;
also a large brush or fitch to wipe off the dust when the colours are dry.
The colours must at first be laid on thin; to be deepened or mel-
lowed afterwards as may be necessary. The quicker they are laid
on, the more equal and the cleaner they will appear. Care must be
taken that no dust mix with the colours, for which purpose, the shells
containing the colours, and the pallet, as well as the paper, ought to be
well wiped before they are used, with the fitch. When the work is
finished, or when it is intermitted or laid aside for a time, the pencils
should be well cleaned in warm pure water. In painting the face, it is
proper to have some carnation or flesh-colour mixed up with gum-wa-
ter, in a shell by itself: if the complexion be fair, mix vermilion and
flake white: if it be dark or swarthy, then add a little masticot, English
ochre, or both. The flesh-colour ought always to be lighter than the
complexion intended to be represented, because, in afterwards working
on it, the tone of the colours will be lowered. In the cheeks and lips,
a mixture of lake and red lead, or carmine, as may be most suitable, may
be used; and indigo, or ultramarine with white, will answer for the
veins, the skin below the eyes, or other parts where a blueish tint is re-
quired.
In executing landscapes with water colours, at first a dead-colouring
must be laid over the piece, as smoothly as can be done, leaving no part
uncovered, and performed with a bold hand: this, although apparently
coarse, will afterwards produce a good effect: and such an appearance
must not discourage the artist; for this roughness may easily be soften-
ed down, by the gradual application of the other colours, and the due
heightening or lowering of the shadows. It is proper, in some places,
to lay on strong touches, bringing them all equally forward, tempering
and sweetening the colours with a pencil sharper than the former, that
no spots or hard edges of the original touches may remain, but that all
the shadows may be soft and smooth, gliding and blending gently into
one another.
No part of the work ought to be carried far on before the others; but
the whole should be brought up together as nearly as possible. When
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PAINTING.
the dead-colouring is prepared, the first thing to be done is, the paint-
ing of the distances and other places where the lightest tints are to ap-
pear, such as the sky, the sun-beams, &c; then come the yellowish rays
of light, executed with masticot and white; next the blueness of the
sky, with ultramarine, bice, or smalt alone; the colours deepening as
the parts rise up from the horizon; unless the atmosphere be charged
with tempests. The tops of the most distant mountains are wrought so
faintly as to seem to lose themselves in the air: the same rules apply to
all other objects at a distance, where they can be but imperfectly and
confusedly observed. In colouring trees, boughs, branches, &c. the
dark shades are first touched in, and the lighter leaves, &c. are to be
raised above the darker; the uppermost of all to be done the last. The
extremities of the leaves are to be touched very lightly; and the darkest
shadows set off with sap-green and indigo.
A branch of water-colouring is the method of tinting prints, in which re-
gard must be had to the quality of the paper on which the prints are exe-
cuted; for this is sometimes of such a nature that ordinary water-colours,
and even body colours, will sink into it, unless previously prepared with a
solution of alum, or with some other strengthening substance. The strength
and consistence of the colours to be applied to the print must be pro-
portioned to the quantity and nature of the ink on the paper. If it be
intended only to stain the print, the engraved parts will answer well for
the shadows, and to preserve the keeping of the drawing: but when the
print is to be highly coloured, the engraving, although necessary to guide
the placing of the colours, may often be kept down, and in some degree
concealed by the body of colour. Whites ought to be left out wherever
it can be done, as in the lights, or other parts of á tint approaching to
the lights; the colours applied being so thin and transparent as to super-
sede the necessity of introducing white colours. In the same way black
ought to be left out, or if indispensable, it should be used sparingly and
as gently as possible. In doing the broad lights and shades, the same
methods of working and mingling the colours must be adopted, and
neither white nor black admitted, without an absolute necessity, arising
from the general tone of the engraving and colouring of the print. The
outlines of the several objects must be softened down by the colouring,
that the sudden hard effects of the engraving may be kept from the eye.
Prints are likewise first washed with simple water-colours, and after-
wards finished with body colouring, which has a very good effect.
CON
Drawings may also be tinted in the following manner :-Sometimes
they are outlined with a black-lead pencil, and stained; the sky and
distances in the landscape are done over with a thin wash of colour; and
the ground and front objects with body-colours; the whole is then
wrought up to proper effect with stronger colours alone, or united with
Indian ink. At other times drawings are more completely outlined and
washed with Indian ink; after which the whole is finished with the re-
quisite colours. Drawings, performed with colours alone, seldom have
a good effect, their glare destroying that repose and harmony without
which no representations of natural objects can please. In whichever
method drawings are done, the lights require more finishing than the
shades; in which a broad manner of pencilling has usually an excellent
effect; and by a due attention to the management of the middle tints,
the beauty of the drawing will be fully attained.
Flower Painting is one of the most agreeable branches of the art, not
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only on account of the splendour, the variety and beauty of their colours,
but by reason of the little time and labour requisite in executing them.
It is not, however, to be supposed, that a certain degree of application
is not necessary for acquiring skill in this elegant and delightful part of
painting; but only that the same rigid correctness in designing and co-
louring is not expected in representing a flower, as in a face, or a figure.
A face is utterly ruined if the artist paint one eye larger, higher, or low-
er, than another; the mouth too small, the nose too large, and so on
with the other parts. In flower painting slight errors of this sort are not
of importance, because the varieties in form, colours, and distribution of
parts are, in nature, so multiplied, that deviations from the truth of the
object must be very gross indeed, before they can be liable to censure.
To acquire some proficiency in painting flowers, nature must be con-
stantly and carefully studied, endeavouring to discover among the co-
lours on the pallet, or in the shells and cups, such original or com-
pound tints as will come the nearest to the real objects. Much useful
instruction may also be obtained by studying and imitating the best
drawings or paintings of flowers, to learn by what practices and ar-
rangements of colours the various tints of the original may be best
imitated.
In general flowers are drawn and laid in the same way with all other
figures; but the manner of completing and finishing them is different:
for they are first formed by large strokes and traces made and turned in
the way the smaller strokes are to be placed in the finishing, which is
done by very fine small strokes, without cross-hatching or dotting, unless,
as is the case in some kinds of flowers, the surface of the natural object be
spotted. These very fine small lines must be repeatedly gone over with
the pencil, until all the parts, both dark and bright, have received their
whole force. As an example of flower-painting it will be sufficient here
to show how roses are done. When the contour and several leaves are
sketched, if it be for a red rose, trace these outlines with carmine, touch-
ed with a very pale lay of carmine and white. Then the shadows are
to be done with the same colours, but with less white: afterwards with
carmine alone, strengthening it more and more by repeated touches, ac-
cording to the darkness of the shades. This is performed by large strokes
of the pencil at first, and finished by finer strokes of the same colour, all
lying precisely in the same direction and inclination with the leaves of
the rose you copy, or with the strokes of the engraving, if you follow a
print: taking care to blend the dark and light parts, heightening the
brightest parts of the leaves, and illuminating them with white and a lit-
tle carmine. The hearts of the roses are made darker than the rest; and
a little indigo must be mixed with the other colours, for shading the
first leaves, when the flowers are full blown, to give them an air of be-
ing somewhat decayed. The best dead-colouring for the seed is gam-
boge, mixed with a little sap-green for the shadows. Variegated roses,
or those streaked with different colours, ought to have the ground paler
than others of one colour, that the streaks or variegations may be the
more apparent. These are laid on with carmine, darker or lighter, ac-
cording to the point of light falling on or reflected from the leaves of the
flowers. White roses are laid with white, and formed and finished in
the same way with the red: making use of black, white, and a little
bistre: the seed is shown more yellow than that of the red rose.
Yel-
low roses are painted by applying a lay of masticot, and shading them
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FAINTING.
with gamboge, gall-stone, and bistre; the brightest parts heightened with
masticot and white. The stalks, leaves, and buds of roses, of all kinds,
are formed with verditer, in which is mixed a small proportion of gam
boge and masticot; and for the shades sap-green is added, diminishing the
other colours as the shades grow deeper. The leaves have more of a
blue tinge on the outside than on the inside, and therefore must be dead-
coloured with sea-green, or sap-green mixed with the shade-green; and
the fibres on the outside must be made brighter than the ground, but
those on the inside darker. The prickles upon the buds of roses are
painted with gentle touches of carmine laid in different directions; and
those on the stalks are formed with verditer and carmine, and shaded
with carmine and bistre; the lower part of the stalks being made red-
der than the top
OF MINIATURE Painting
Miniature painting consists of very small lines, or rather points or dots,
done with very thin simple water-colours, on vellum, paper, or ivory.
Paintings of this sort are distinguished from other kinds, by the small-
ness and delicacy of the figures, and the lightness of the colouring; and
therefore require to be nearly examined.
The colours principally used in miniature painting are these:
Carmine
Lake
Rose pink
Vermilion
Red-lead
Brown-red
Red orpiment
Ultramarine
Verditer
Indigo
Gall-stone
Yellow ochre
Dutch pink
Gamboge
Naples yellow
Pale masticot
Deep yellow masticot
Ivory black
Lamp black'
Leaf gold and silver
Genuine Indian ink
Bistre or wood soot
Raw umber and burnt
Sap-green
Verdigris
Flake white
Crayons of all colours
Gold and silver shells
Where writing is to appear through the painting, the following tran-
sparent colours are used, viz.
LIQUID.
Lake-Blue-Yellow-Grass-green-Dark-green-Purple-Brown.
As colours formed from earthy or mineral substances, however well
they may be ground and prepared, can never be entirely freed from a
certain grit or sand, and are thereby unfit for the delicate execution of
miniatures; they may be made to give out the finest parts of their co-
lour by diluting them with the finger in a cup of water. When the sub-
stances have been well steeped and mixed, they are allowed to settle,
and the clearest part of the liquid poured off into another cup, there to
dry, and to be afterwards mixed with a little gum-water, when required
for use.
By mixing a little of the gall of an ox, of a carp, or of an eel, par-
ticularly the last, with the green, grey, black, yellow, or brown colours,
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any greasiness in them will be entirely removed, and they will acquire a
beautiful brightness and lustre. This preparation makes the colours
stick better on the vellum, and prevents them from scaling. These
colours are commonly diluted in small ivory cups, or sea shells, with
water in which gum arabic and sugar candy are dissolved. To know
whether the colours be properly gummed, the artist has only to give a
stroke of the pencil on his hand, or a piece of paper, &c; if the colour,
when dry, chaps and scales, there has been too much gum used; and,
on the contrary, if the colour can be rubbed off with the finger, too little
has been mixed with it. Too much gum makes the colour hard and dry;
and when the painter wishes to give to his colours a greater darkness
than they naturally possess, he has only to add a greater quantity of
gum than would be requisite for other purposes.
The pallet used in miniature painting is of very smooth ivory, and
about the size of the hand, on which the colours for the carnation, or naked
parts of the picture, are ranged in the following way :-the middle of
one side of the pallet is covered with a large quantity of white, being the
colour most used: and round the edges, beginning at the left hand, are
these, viz. masticot, Dutch-pink, prpiment, yellow ochre, green, blue,
vermilion, carmine, bistre, and black. The green here mentioned, is a
composition of equal quantities of verditer, Dutch-pink, and white; and
the blue is made in the same way, with ultramarine, indigo, and white,
worked to a very pale hue. On the other side of the pallet, white is
spread in the middle, and the other colours necessary for the draperies,
or other parts, are arranged around it.
As the delicacy of this work depends much on the goodness of the
pencils, great care is requisite in selecting them. In order to make a
good choice, wet the pencil a little, and if the hairs keep close together
when turned on the finger, making but one point, the pencil is good;
but if they do not keep close, and divide into different points, some
longer than others, the pencil is good for nothing. The hairs may like-
wise be too long, feeble, and sharp-pointed: in this case they ought to
be shortened and blunted with a pair of scissars. Different sorts of pen-
cils ought also to be provided, the larger for laying the grounds, or dead-
colouring, and the small ones for the finishing. It is necessary in work-
ing to put the pencil just between the lips, moistening and pressing the
hairs together with the tongue, in order to give them a compact point,
and to take off a little of the colour when the pencil is too full. There
is no danger in this practice, from the qualities of the colours, except-
ing in the use of orpiment, which, being a combination of the calx of
arsenic with sulphur, might have hurtful effects, were it received in-
wardly in considerable quantities, which never can be the case in mi-
niature painting. The practice here recommended is especially neces-
sary in doting and finishing, particulary in the carnations, that the
touches may be neat and clear, and not too, much charged with colour.
In doing the draperies and other parts, it is sufficient to draw the pencil
to a point on the edge of the shell, or upon the paper employed on the
picture to support the hand.
~
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The light is of great importance in this sort of painting; it ought to
enter the room by only one window, and the table and desk ought to be
placed near it, in such a position that the light may come in on the left
hand, and never in front, or on the right. In working, the first
thing to be done is the dead-colouring, laying on the colours with
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PAINTING.
:
free strokes of the pencil, in the smoothest manner possible, as is prac-
tised by painters in oil; but without giving it all the strength of the
finishing: that is, the lights must be a little brighter, and the shadows
less dark than they are ultimately to be made; because in dotting on
them afterwards, the colour is always strengthened, and would thus at
last become too forcible. Dotting is performed in various ways, and
most painters have particular methods of their own. By some the dots
are made round, by others oblong; some artists again hatch with little
light strokes, crossing one another in all directions, until the work at
last has the appearance of being done with dots. This last method is the
most expeditious, as well as the boldest, and ought to be practised by
all artists, in order to acquire the habit of working in a soft and plump
way, by which the dots are, in some measure, lost in the ground, and no
more of them is seen but just as much as to give the work the look
of being dotted. The hard dry manner of working is the reverse of
this, and ought never to be used. It is done by dotting with a colour
much darker than the ground, and when the pencil is not well mois-
tened, which makes the piece appear rough and uneven. The colours
should likewise lose themselves in one another, in such a way, that their
joinings shall never be observable; they ought, therefore, to be allayed
and softened by delicate touches of another colour partaking of both.
When the piece is finished they may still be enlivened by some small
touches on the extremities of the lights, with a colour still lighter,
which must be lost and drowned with the rest.
CRAYON PAINTING.
Painting with crayons or chalk is in its nature so little durable, that
it is, in some respects, a pity that eminent talents should be employed
in the practice of it. It may, however, be extremely serviceable in tak-
ing a portrait or a landscape, when expedition is required, to be after-
wards executed in a permanent manner: some observations on crayon-
painting may, therefore, be very useful.
W
By crayons we understand, in general, all coloured stones, earths, or
minerals, and substances used in drawing and painting in pastel; whe-
ther these substances are used in their original consistence, and only cut
into long, narrow slips for use, or beaten and reduced to a paste with
gum-water. The red crayons are made of red chalk, or bloodstone ; the
black crayons of black-lead and charcoal, sawed into the proper shape.
Crayons of all other colours are compositions of earths reduced to a paste.
These several substances, or compositions of colours, must be cut into
the proper size, after they are prepared, that they may be rolled into
pastels for the convenience of using them. The crayon is formed on the
left hand, with the ball of the right, first into a long cylinder, and then
tapered to a point at each end. When the composition is too dry, it is
moistened by dipping the finger in water; and when it is too wet, the
composition must be again laid on the chalk, or other dry materials,
that part of the moisture may be absorbed. In rolling crayons no
time should be lost, and when they are finished, they are, if necessary,
to be again laid in the chalk, to be brought to a proper degree of dry-
When a set of crayons is completed, they are to be arranged in
classes for use. This is most conveniently done in a set of shallow draw-
ers, divided by partitions, in which the crayons are disposed according
ness.
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to the several gradations of light; the bottom of the drawers being co-
vered with bran for the crayons to lie on, without being broken or dirti-
ed. A box for use at any time may be about a foot square, and contain
nine partitions. In the upper corner, on the left hand, for example,
may be placed the black and grey crayons, which are most seldom used;
in the second partition the blues, in the third the green and brown. In
the first space of the second row the carmines, lakes, vermilions, and all
deep reds: in the middle partition the yellow and orange, and next the
pearly tints; which, being very delicate, ought to be kept perfectly
clean, that their shades of colour may be readily distinguished. In the
lowest row of partitions, the first may contain a piece of fine linen rag`
to wipe the crayons when in use'; the second all the pure lake and vermi-
lion tints; and the last partition may be filled with all those tints which,
from their nature, as compounded of many others, cannot be reduced to
any of the former classes. Although the object of the artist be the
same, whether he paint in oil, in water-colours, or in crayons, namely,
to give a correct imitation of nature; yet each class of painting has its
peculiar rules and modes of working: thus painting with crayons re-
quires, in many respects, a different treatment from that with oil co-
lours; because all colours used when dry, are naturally of a warmer
complexion than when they are wet with oils, &c. Hence it is, that in
order to produce a rich effect, a much greater proportion of cooling tints
are requisite in crayons than with oils, &c. and to an inattention to this
circumstance may be attributed the failure in crayons of otherwise emi-
nent painters in oil-colours. In painting with crayons, the student is to
be provided with strong blue paper, the thicker the better, if the grain
is not too rough, or full of hard knots. Such knots, found in even the
best paper, must be levelled down with a penknife or razor, and then
the paper is pasted down very smooth on a linen cloth, previously
strained on a wooden frame of the requisite size: on this frame the pic-
ture is to be executed, although it answers very well not to paste on the
paper until the subject be all dead-coloured. The paper, when dead-
coloured, is laid on its face on a smooth board or table, and then the
back part is brushed over with paste, and the frame with the strained-
cloth is laid on the pasted side of the paper, which adheres to it, and
being turned up, is gently and neatly pressed to unite in all parts.
When this paste is perfectly dry, the artist may proceed with the paint-
ing, in which the pasting renders considerable service; for the crayons
will adhere better to the paper after than before that operation, and con-
sequently give the picture a firmer and brighter body of colour. When
painters want to make a very accurate copy of a picture, they commonly
use tiffany, or black gauze, strained tight on a frame, which is laid flat
on the subject to be copied, and on the tiffany or gauze, with a piece of
drawing chalk, they trace all the outlines and other principal parts.
The canvass on which the copy is to be painted is then laid flat on the
floor, placing over it the tiffany with the chalked lines, and brushed over
with a handkerchief, by which means the lines are correctly represented
on the canvas. The same method may be used by the crayon painter;
but, in copying a crayon painting, he must observe the following ruies,
on account of the glass: the picture being placed on the easel, the out-
lines are to be traced on the glass, with a fine camel-hair pencil, dipped
in lake ground with thin oil; this tracing must be done with the great-
est care and accuracy. Then take a sheet of paper or the same size, and
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PAINTING.
apply it to the glass, passing the hand gently over it, by which means
the colour will adhere to the paper. Wherever this colour appears, the
paper is to be pricked with pin-holes, as close as possible to each other;
and the sketch is then placed over another sheet of paper, on which the
erayons are to be used. Next, with some fine powdered charcoal - tied
up in a piece of lawn, rub over the pricked lines, and you will have an
exact outline on the second; which must be carefully preserved until
the whole be drawn over with chalk composed of whiting and tobacco-
pipe clay, rolled like a crayon, and pointed at each end.

In painting from the life, it is best to make a correct drawing of the
outlines on a separate paper, in the proper size of the intended picture ;
and this may be again traced, as above-mentioned, because false strokes
of the chalk will prevent the crayons from adhering to the paper, owing
to a certain greasy quality in the composition. The young artist will
find a sitting posture the most convenient for painting with crayons,
holding the box of colours on his knees. That part of the picture on
which he is at work should be somewhat lower than his face, otherwise
the arm will be fatigued by being kept in too elevated a position. The
windows ought to be darkened for at least six feet above the ground;
and the subject to be painted should be situated in such a manner that
the light may fall with every advantage on the face, avoiding too much
shadow, which seldom has a good effect on portraits, particularly when
the face possesses much delicacy. In other parts of his work, respecting
the attitude, age, and manner, back-ground, embellishments, &c. the ob
servations suggested, when treating of portrait-painting in general, may
be attended to in working with crayons. When the whole head is co-
vered over, or dead-coloured, the whole must be sweetened and blended
together, by rubbing it over with the finger very lightly, taking care to
wipe it clean in passing from one colour or tint to another: but this
sweetening and softening has its bounds; for, if it be carried too far, the
work will assume a meagre look, and have more the appearance of a
drawing than a solid painting, where nothing but a good body of colour
can produce a rich effect: this renders it sometimes necessary to lay on
a fresh quantity of crayon. When the head is tolerably advanced, the
back-ground is to be begun, but in a different way, for it is laid on
very thin, and rubbed in with a leather stump. The parts bordering
on the face should be almost free from colour altogether, which will give
a great relief and air of body to the head, and leave it in the artist's
power to finish the hair with freedom and delicacy.



eyes,
The greatest difficulty in working with crayons is to execute the
where every part is to be done with the utmost delicacy, to have a cor-
rect finished appearance, combined with breadth and freedom in the
touch; for which reason the crayon, instead of the finger, should be
chiefly used in softening the colours; and a fine point may be obtained
from the minute parts, by breaking off a bit of the crayon. When the
eye-lashes are dark, carmine and brown ochre, or carmine and black are
used; and the corners of the eye are done with light touches of carmine,
lake, and vermilion; observing always, that too much red here, or in any
other part of the eye, gives the appearance of soreness, and has an offen-
sive effect. The pupil of the eye is done of the purest lamp black, and
between it and the lower part of the iris, the light is strong, but care-
fully diffused round the pupil, and lost in the shade. When the eye-
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balls are thus advanced, a bright speck is made with pure white crayon,
sharpened or broken to a fine point.
Draperies.-Black, dark blue, purple, pink, and all red draperies, are
first touched with carmine, to give a brilliancy to the other colours; then
the middle tint, excepting in the masses of shade, which are to be laid at
first as deep as possible: these softened with the finger in working will
represent the broad folds, to which the smaller folds are afterwards to be
added. These smaller parts are done with light and dark tints, working
as much with the crayon, and as little with the finger as possible; the
last stroke in each fold being done entirely with the crayon, and never
touched with the finger or sweetener. In doing the reflected lights the
touch with the crayon will be too harsh, therefore the finger is to be
used, as reflected lights are always less distinct and marked than direct
lights. In general, the reflects must partake of the colour of the reflect-
ing objects. When the drapery is blue, the reflects must be of a green-
ish cast; in a green drapery they are yellowish; in yellow of an orange
tint; when red the reflections are of the same colour, inclining to yel-
low; black gives a reddish reflection; and purples generally produce a
reddish tint. It is to be observed, that whatever may be the colour of
the drapery, the reflections on the face must partake of it. Linen, lace,
furs, &c. are to be done with the crayon, and sparingly touched with
the finger, excepting sometimes in furs; and all are finished entirely
without any fingering.
The methods here recommended have been followed by many cele-
brated painters with crayons: but a knowledge of, and ability to exe-
cute each separate part of a figure with brilliancy and effect, will
prove
insufficient to form a complete painter, unless he can also unite these
parts together, by correct drawing, propriety of light and shadow, and
harmonious combination of colouring. In order to acquire this qualifi
cation, the young artist should never finish any one part in particular,
but bring on the whole piece at the same time, stopping frequently and
examining his work at different distances, or taking the opinion of sensi-
ble friends, who are no artists themselves, to discover the due connection
of each part with those around it, and with the whale composition. The
neglect of those precautions has occasioned the failure of many perform-
ances, arranged and begun in a very promising manner
To what has been said on this subject may be added the following
short observations furnished by an eminent amateur of crayon paint-
ing
Of all modes of painting, that of crayon or pastel is the easiest and
most convenient. You may paint in this way on paper, on cloth, or on
vellum. Rosalva and La Tour, who excelled in this way, painted on a
blue paper made in Holland. The blue and grey papers made in Eng-
land are also well adapted to this purpose, and have the advantage of
requiring no preparation before they are used: but no glossy paper ought
ever to be chosen. In using paper, it is to be pasted on a piece of linen,
or fine canvass, free from knots, and stretched tight on a frame; this paper
must not be rough nor glossy, and on it paste another sheet or sheets of
paper, on which the drawing is to be executed. In using vellum you
must select a sheet that has been well cleaned from grease, and as much
as possible of an equal thickness in ever part; if it be greasy the colours
will not adhere to it, but fall off in the course of working. The smooth
side of the vellum must be damped, and then stretched on a frame with
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flat nails, and the painting done on the other side, which is the roughost.
The celebrated French artist, Liotard, always painted on vellum.
When you wish to make use of cloth, it must be nailed neatly on the
frame; it must be free from knots or other roughness, and fine, but
sufficiently strong to bear the proper stretching; and small thin wedges
should be provided to introduce between the frame and the edges of
the cloth, to stretch and tighten it, as it happens to give way and
slacken. The next thing to be done to the cloth, is to lay on a prepa-
ration of the best Flanders-glue and pumice, finely sifted. This mix-
ture is to be boiled, and immediately laid on the cloth with a large
brush, such as is used in working with water-colours. The usual pro-
portion of these ingredients is half a stick of Flanders-glue, two table-
spoonfuls of ground pumice, in a pint of water. When this paste is
quite dry, before you begin to paint, rub the surface over with a piece
of pumice, to make it smooth and even: but this is to be done very
lightly, lest, in rubbing, you take off the glue, and lose the benefit of
the preparation. In preparing either cloth or paper, it is better to put
in too little glue than too much; for an excess in this ingredient will
render the application of the colours very troublesome and difficult. It
is to be noticed, that this preparatory mixture will not answer for a se-
cond painting, after it has been allowed to cool, even were it boiled
over again. The success of this kind of painting depends on the qua-
lity of the crayons, which ought to be of a brilliant tint, but tender and
corresponding with those of nature, or of the piece from which the copy
is made. When the paper, vellum, or cloth, are sufficiently prepared,
begin the sketch of the picture with a dark crayon, and correct the
outline with one of a reddish brown, using another crayon still darker,
for any additional alterations or corrections that may be necessary. If
you wish to efface any part, whether finished, or only sketched, first rub
off the colour with a linen-cloth, and then with the finger rub on the
place a little ground pumice, or pumice that has been finely sifted
through a piece of silk. Then blow away the pumice, and resume the
operation with the crayons, as at first. There is this difference between
painting in oil-colours and with crayons, that for the first it is necessary
to arrange the various tints upon the pallet, before you begin to apply
them to the canvass; but, in crayons, it often happens that several
tints are laid one upon another, in order to produce, by the blending of
these hues, the colours and tints required. The common fault of those
who begin to paint with crayons is, that they use too little colour. It
is true, that in executing any object, a head for instance, great skill is
requisite in selecting the tints; but when you discover that you have
already obtained the desired effect by their combination, the colours
must be laid on with freedom, and without sparing the quantity for fear
of laying on too much. When the whole piece is sketched in, so as to
produce an effect when placed at a distance, which can happen only
when the lights, shadows, and reflections are properly arranged, you
must examine whether there be a sufficient body of colour laid on, to
allow of their being blended and sweetened with the finger; and, if
this be the case, it must be done with the model from which you work
before you. When the colours and tints are properly mingled in this
manner, compare the whole with the original, or model, and make the
necessary alterations.
In blending the colours, you must be careful to preserve the freedom


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and spirit of the first draught, or outline, otherwise you will run a risk
of losing what most contributes to the likeness, especially if the person
on whose picture you are working has much vivacity in his counte-
nance or manner: for, by the fatigue of sitting long in the same posture,
the muscles become relaxed, and the whole face assumes a different air
from that which appeared at the beginning of the work. With persons
of a more sedate temper, there is less to be feared, as their muscles un-
dergo less change from their first position. When the whole of the
head is properly blended and sweetened, you proceed to finish the pic-
ture. Having examined each part separately, then give touches in dif-
ferent places, in order to produce general harmony, concluding by the
strongest and most spirited touches, to give expression, relief, and truth
to the piece; but these last touches are never to be blended or softenerl
down into one another, which would destroy all their effect.
ป
It is of great importance in crayons, as well as in all other sorts of
painting, to see a good artist at work, to observe his methods, and to
attend to his practice and advice, particularly respecting such colours
and tints as are apt to fly or change in mixing. The following rules for
fixing crayon and other colours will be of service to the young painter.
In order to succeed in this operation, the picture should be placed ver-
tically, or rather a little inclined from the perpendicular, upon the easel,
or a chair, or against a wall, to keep it steady. A pocket-brush should
he provided, with the hairs of a middling length, and a small iron-rod,
six or seven inches long of a triangular form, bent at one end. Then
take a pint of the clearest water, into which are to be put two large
pieces of the best isinglass, cut very small, to be placed in a sand-bath,
until the isinglass be quite dissolved; then strain the liquor through a
piece of fine linen, to purify it from any grosser parts. When this is
used, it is poured into a saucer, and mixed with twice its quantity of
the best spirits of wine. While the mixture is about milk-warm, dip
the brush in it, and pass it several times over the bent end of the small
iron rod, drawing it towards you, so as to press the hairs together; this
forces the greatest part of the liquor to fall off, and leaves the hairs on-
ly moistened; then holding the hairs of the brush towards the picture,
at a distance of eight or ten inches, apply to the hairs the bent end of
the rod, and drawing it towards you, the several hairs, as they escape
and return to their original position, will throw off the moisture ad-
hering to them, and thus produce on the painting a sort of impercep-
tible shower, which will penetrate the crayons, and fix them to the
canvass. Whenever the brush is dry, it is again dipped in the saucer,
and the operation is continued, beginning at one corner, until the whole
surface has been done over. When the whole has been moistened with
this shower or dew, let it dry, and then repeat the operation twice
more, if you think it has not sufficiently been done at first. The pur-
pose of this is merely to unite the several particles of the crayons, and
thus, in some measure, to prevent their being rubbed off by any ac-
cidental touch. As crayons will not bear to be rubbed, it is an error
to suppose that they can be varnished, which would utterly confound
and change the colours. There are, however, many crayon-paintings
which cannot be fixed in this manner, owing to the glue, pumice, or other
substance that may have been introduced; or from the sketch having
been varnished: the application of this shower or sprinkling may ne-
vertheless be useful in giving fresh brilliancy to the colours of the picture.

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PAINTING IN ENAMEL.
Enamelling, a corruption of the French words en émail, is the art of
applying enamel on various metals, such as gold, silver, copper, &c. and
of executing sundry works with it, by means of fire, or the lamp. The
enamel is composed generally of vitrified substances, interspersed with
others not vitrified; so that it possesses all the properties of glass ex-
cepting its transparency. The basis of all enamels is a pure glass,
ground up with a fine calx of lead or tin, prepared for the purpose,
with the addition commonly of white salt of tartar. These ingredients
baked together, with powders of different colours, afford enamels of all
kinds. Of all the modes of painting, none is more solid and durable
than enamelling; for time, which consumes all things, has no sensible
effect on the beauty or the brilliancy of this work: it may be observed
also, that no species of painting unites so many difficulties in the exe-
cution. The process is performed on metal plates covered with a white
coat of enamel. Gold is often used for this purpose; but copper, when
well managed, is almost as good. These plates are made concave on
one side, and convex on the other; and are usually round or oval: if
they were flat, there would be, a risk that the enamel might fly off in
undergoing the action of the fire or lamp. The convexity of the plates,
however, must not be considerable, for this would injure the effect of
the painting, as the sight could not rest on the whole of the subject at
once; the light necessarily falling on the prominent parts, would have
a brilliancy injurious to the effects of the other parts, on which it did
not fall in the same manner. The colours used in enamelling are all
calxes of metals, mixed and melted with certain proportions of a vitre-
ous substance which, at the instant of their fusion, discover their tints
and fix them on the metallic plate. This melted glass or enamel pro-
duces the same effect that oils gums or glues produce in other processes
of painting. It unites the different particles of the colouring materials,
makes them adhere to the surface of the enamel, and incorporates them
with itself: when properly managed it gives the colours a degree of
brilliancy and polish not to be obtained in any other way. Many co-
lours are not requisite in this kind of painting; the following are suffi-
cient to produce all sorts of tints. It was formerly thought necessary
to have colours of different degrees of hardness: the hardest to be used
in the beginning of the work, and the softer colours in finishing, as re-
quiring a moderate heat: these precautions are now however disregard-
ed. Without entering at present into any detail of the manner of pro-
curing the various colours, it may be noticed that from gold are form-
ed the scarlets, purples, pinks and violets; from silver and antimony
the yellows; from copper the greens; from cobalt the blues; from
iron the deep reds, blacks and browns; from tin the whites. These co-
lours are the basis, or rather the materials of which those used in ena-
mel painting are composed, viz. the following:
Deep purple. Rose purple. Violet purple. Deep and warm yel-
low. Brilliant and light yellow. Straw-coloured yellow.
Green. Black. Dark brown; and white, for the last touches.
Blue.
Three different purples are mentioned, because the deepest is used
for the strongest touches, and consequently with a thick body of colour,
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PAINTING.
producing a warm tone; but if, on the contrary, it be used thin and
faint, the tint will be too much of a violet hue, and not sufficiently near
to a pink. The second, or rose purple, has a contrary effect; that is
to say, if it be used too thick, it loses its force, but when laid on faintly,
it produces a most brilliant rose colour. It is therefore proper, on pro-
curing these colours, to try the deep purple by strong touches, and
the rose purple by a light wash, to discover whether they correspond to
the tints you wish to produce. The violet purple,, if it may be so cal-
led, is more brilliant when you buy it ready prepared, than when you
make it up with a mixture of blue and purple. The same thing hap-
pens with the yellows, which when used in a faint state, do not
give a tint so strong and brilliant as when applied thick, at least this is
rarely the case. The blue is a very cold colour, and becomes deeper
every time it passes through the fire; it is therefore to be used with
caution, and only on the carnations: it may be made warmer, by mix-
ing it with a little yellow. The greens, most of which are procured
from copper, are extremely brilliant, but do not stand: they are used in
the draperies, back-grounds, &c. and are only to be applied when the
picture is to pass the last time through the fire. Such greens as are ne-
cessary in the carnations are composed of blue and yellow. As it is
difficult to procure blacks that will stand, it is best to sketch such parts
as require it with mixtures of dark yellow, blue, deep or violet purple ;
in the last touches you may use black alone. If browns that will stand
are not to be obtained, they may be composed of those colours just
mentioned to form a black, only adding a greater proportion of deep
yellow and deep purple.
The colours employed in enamelling are to be reduced to the finest
powder, and afterwards ground down with water, with all possible care,
each upon separate glasses. They should be ground only in small
quantities at a time, because the extreme separation of their component
particles greatly aids the required changes, when in a state of fusion,
and improves their brilliancy and fine polish. They are afterwards left
to dry upon a glass covered with paper, to preserve them from dust,
and then, like the colours used in miniature painting, ought to be put
into small phials, well stopped. When the colours have been thus well
ground with water, some essential oil of lavender must be procured, and
thickened to prevent it from evaporating too quickly when exposed to
the fire. The way to thicken it is to pour a quantity into a plate, a quar-
ter of an inch deep, cover it with a piece of gauze, and expose it to the
heat of the sun until it begin to flow, and seem to have the fluidity of
olive oil, which happens in a longer or shorter time, according to the
season of the year. This oil is then put up in a clean phial, and the
operation is repeated until a sufficient quantity be procured. Should it,
however, become too thick, or fat, as it is called, it must be mixed with
a little oil that has not gone through this process. Oil of lilies may be
also employed for the same purpose, and requires no preparation of this
sort. It has another advantage, that it does not evaporate in the open
air, and thereby leaves the artist the power of judging of the force of
his tints, and of the harmony of his work: but when this oil has been
employed, the painting ought, previously to its being placed in the fur-
nace, to be exposed to the heat of a charcoal fire, gradually increased,
until the oil be entirely evaporated. If the work were placed in the
furnace immediately after it is painted, the colours would bubble and
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spread in all directions, and the picture be entirely spoiled. This,
however, does not happen with the oil of lavender, for it evaporates in
the ordinary heat of the air; but it sometimes occurs that when the
upper part of the painting is finished, and the work is resumed next
day, the colours have been imbibed and dried up, so that it demands
the greatest experience and practice to regain the same strength of tones,
in the other parts of the work. As it is only after the plate has been
passed through the fire that any judgment can be formed respecting
the effects, you may, therefore, in the beginning, use the oil of la-
vender, and in harmonizing darkening or otherwise changing the lights,
employ the oil of lilies. The colours are mixed with the oil, on a piece
of glass or agate, until they feel as soft as oil under the muller; they
are then arranged in small heaps, on another piece of even glass, and
placed in a box, which must be only half opened when necessary, that
no dust may enter. Under this piece of glass is laid some white paper,
that the different colours may be the more visible. To prevent the co-
lours from being soiled, and one from mixing with another, you must
be careful, after using any of them, to wipe the glass with a piece of
fine linen rag, dipped in spirits of wine. The simple colours ought to
be placed on the upper part of the pallet, and the mixed colours on the
lower part; observing, that the pallet should be renewed every morn-
ing, as the colours are never so good when the oil has evaporated and
has lost part of its fluidity. When the pallet is thus in order, you must
with an ivory knife take, from among the principal colours, those ne-
cessary to form the tints, in the manner hereafter mentioned. Having
wiped, with a piece of fine linen and spirits of wine, the enamelled plate
on which you mean to paint, then with a black-lead pencil draw very
faintly the outline of the subject, and pass a linen cloth lightly over
the whole, to remove any of the grosser parts of the lead remaining on
the plate. If this be not done, when the work is exposed to the fire,
the small particles of the pencil, broken off in the shape of a fine powder,
will rise up in bubbles, and remain tinged with the colours to be after-
wards laid on. When this operation is over, a second outline is drawn,
more strongly expressed than the first, with deep purple. This second
outline should be as correct as possible, because when it has passed
through the fire it is very difficult to efface the most trifling touch. It
is of use here to have a piece of hard wood, pointed like a pencil, with
which the outline may be corrected, by moving the colour more to the
right or the left, as may be necessary. When the outline is done to
your satisfaction, and every thing is drawn in its proper situation, then
the work must for the first time be exposed to the fire. If you now
perceive that any air-bubbles have arisen, or that any part of the colour
remains rough, you must take a small piece of oil-stone, or a steel point
well steeped, and rub the place, but not going very deep, till the white
ground appear; after which the plate is put into the fire, to repolish the
part that has been rubbed, and fit it to be repainted. When this se-
cond outline is finished, and the plate has been again wiped with a cloth
dipped in spirits of wine, begin to paint the strongest shadows with a
mixture of dark purple dark yellow and a little blue; by means of these
three colours you produce the same warm tone with what is drawn
from burnt terra di sienna and indigo. The method of applying the
colours in enamel is the same as in miniature painting on ivory, with
this difference only, that as oil takes more time to dry than water, the

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enameller has more time to work his colours, after they are applied to
the plate. When you have placed and softened one touch you must
leave it and wait till it is again passed through the fire; otherwise the
too great quantity of oil, confined under the second coat of colour, will,
in the moment of fusion, make the upper ones bubble, and prevent
them from polishing. It is to be observed, that all the colours when
they come out of the fire ought to have nearly the same degree of
polish.
PAINTING ON GLASS. Under this title, different modes of painting on
glass 'are comprehended. The most ancient was very simple, being in
fact only a sort of mosaic, executed with pieces of glass stained with va-
rious colours; then larger pieces of stained glass were used, and the
features and shades applied to them, with other coloured substances;
lastly the colours were incorporated in the materials of the glass itself,
by the operation of fire. This idea is said to have been first suggested
by a French painter at Rome; but Albert Durer, and Lucas of Leyden
produced the earliest specimens of the art, approaching to perfection.
The colours used in painting or staining glass, are very different from
those employed in working with oil or water colours. Of these the
following are some examples.-Blacks are obtained by a mixture of scales
of iron, scales of copper, and jet, all in equal quantities, reduced to a
fine powder. For blues, take of powdered blue one pound, salt of nitre
half a pound, well mixed together.-For carnation, take of red chalk
eight ounces, iron scales and litharge of silver each two ounces, gum
arabic half an ounce; mingle these ingredients in water, and grind them
together, leaving them to settle for a fortnight in the vessel.-For
green, take red lead one pound, copper scales one pound, flint five
pounds; put them, with some nitre, in a crucible, in a very strong fire,
and after they are melted and cold, grind the mass to a fine powder.-
For gold colour, take silver one ounce, antimony half an ounce, melt
them down, and grind the mass, adding to the powder fifteen ounces of
yellow ochre, and then reducing the whole to a fine powder, by grinding
them in water. For purple, take red lead one pound, white lead one
pound, white flint five pounds, brown ochre one pound, and one-third of
a pound of sal nitre; calcine and melt them down together, and reduce
them to powder.-For red, take jet four ounces, litharge of silver two
ounces, red chalk one ounce, powder and mix them.-For white, take
jet two parts, and white flint ground fine one part, and mix them toge-
ther. For yellow, take Spanish brown ten parts, silver leaf one part,
antimony half a part, and calcine them together in a crucible. In the
windows of ancient churches are frequently seen the most beautiful
and lively colours, far exceeding those employed by modern artists.
But this difference is occasioned not so much by ignorance of the
methods pursued in those times, as by the high price of the materials
requisite, which would not be defrayed by the little demand there is
in the public for works of this nature. Formerly the colour was in-
fused into the substance of the glass itself, or it was only applied on
one side, penetrating but a short way into the glass; this last could
be done only with certain colours, for others, yellow for instance, were
always found to pervade the whole substance, or at least to go very
deep.

M
In the art of painting on glass, as practised, or rather as it ought
to be practised, the first thing to be done is to draw and colour the
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subject on paper; then the artist chooses such pieces of glass as are
clear and smooth, to receive the several parts, and distributes the draw-
ing to suit the pieces of glass, making the contours or bounding lines of
the figures fall in the joinings of the several pieces, that the carnations
or other bright and transparent parts of the work may not be covered
by the lead joinings of the glass. When this distribution is made, each
piece of the glass is marked corresponding to that part of the paper-sketch
to which it belongs; thus the design is transferred from the paper to the
glass, following all the lines and strokes as they appear through the
glass, with the point of a pencil. When these strokes are dry, which
may be in a couple of days, the work now consisting only of black and
white, is lightly washed over with gum arabic, urine, and black; and
this is repeated several times, according to the deepness of the shades,
taking care not to apply a new coat of wash until the former be quite
dry. The lights are improved, by rubbing off, with a wooden point,
the colour in the proper places. The other colours are applied with
gum arabic, much in the same way as in miniature-painting; observing
always that the yellows are to be managed with great precaution, for
they are very apt to blend and incorporate with the other colours, and
thereby spoil the whole work: they are also the only colours that pene-
trate through the substance of the glass, when exposed to the action of
the fire; all others, particularly the blues, remaining on the surface, or
only penetrating a short way within it. When the painting is perform-
ed in this manner, the glasses are carried to the oven or furnacé, to
be annealed or baked. This furnace is made of brick, from twen-
ty-four to thirty inches square. An aperture is made six inches from
the bottom, to receive the fuel; a grate is placed across the furnace
like a flooring, above which is another aperture to admit the pieces
of coloured glass. This grate supports an earthen pan, in which the
pieces are laid in the following manner: in the bottom of the pan are
placed three strata or layers of pulverised quick-lime, separated by lay-
ers of old broken glass, to preserve the painted pieces from receiving
too much heat, when they are laid horizontally on the uppermost stra-
tum of quick-lime. Each stratum of the painted glass is separated from
the one above it by a layer of the same powdered quick-lime, and the
uppermost stratum is covered with lime in the same way. The whole
furnace is then covered with a broad flat tile, and closely stopped or
luted all round, leaving only a few small holes to serve for chimnies.
The fire for the first two hours should be moderate, but increased as the
annealing or baking goes on, for ten or twelve hours more, when the
process will be finished. At the conclusion of the whole, the fire, which
at first is made of charcoal, is made up with live wood, that the flarne
may surround and cover the pan of glass, &c. and even come out at
the little chimney holes. Trials of the state of the glass are made by
taking out pieces placed in the pan for this purpose, at the small aper-
ture in the furnace; and when the annealing or coction is thought to be
sufficently advanced, the fire is extinguished as speedily as possible, to
prevent the glasses from being broken, and the colours from being burnt
dissipated, or changed.
PAINTING.

}
It may here be proper to mention the result of a set of experiments
instituted by the celebrated French chemist M. Guyton de Morveau, to
discover some substitute for the white colours generally used, which be-
ing extracted in different ways from lead, all partake more or less of the
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PAINTING.
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1
deleterious qualities of that metal; for the various preparations hitherto
made of lead, have naturally enough been directed to the obtaining of
a purer and more lasting white colour, rather than to a due considera-
tion of the health of those who are to use the colours. The experi-
ments in question were conducted with an eye to the two follow-
ing conditions, essential to the production of good colours. The first is,
that the colours are easily diluted, and take a good body with oils or
mucilages, a circumstance depending greatly on the affinity between
these substances. When the affinity is very strong, a dissolution ensues,
the colour is extinguished, and the compound becomes transparent; and
when the affinity is weak, the colour remains only suspended in the fluid,
and appears on the canvass like loose sand. The second is, that the co-
louring body be not of a volatile nature, and that it be not connected
with a substance of a weak consistency, by which the compound would
be liable to spontaneous decay: hence it is impossible to employ the
greater part of vegetable colours, whose finer parts cannot be united
with other substances more solid. Experiments were made with the
various sorts of earth, whether pure or metallic, and with sundry earthy
compositions which appear sufficiently white for the purposes of paint-
ing; but all these substances refuse to unite with oils or mucilages, and
their white colour is extinguished when they are ground with such li-
quids. The blue of ultramarine, extracted from the blue jasper, com-
monly called lapis lazuli, seemed to warrant the idea that the opaque
half vitrified compositions of the nature of jasper might be rendered use-
ful in painting. The experiments, however, furnished the same results
as those with the pure earths; since it is not the substance peculiar to
the jasper which constitutes ultramarine blue, but the metallic substance
which accidentally colours the particular species of jasper. In this way
art should, in its imitations of nature, endeavour to give a permanent
base to some colour already formed, to fix it without alteration, and to
increase, perhaps, its splendor and intensity, but not to produce a new
colour.
Of the metallic substances there are nine which yield white calces,
(oxydes) viz. silver, mercury, lead, tin, antimony, bismuth, zinc, ar-
senic, manganese; but the calces of the first six metals constantly turn
either black or yellowish. On the other hand, zinc furnishes, by all the
processes of calcination and precipitation, a white calx, when it is pure
and separated from iron, otherwise the preparation of vitriol of zinc will
become yellow when exposed to the air. In all the precipitations of
zinc, an earthy substance of different shades of white was produced,
which, when dried and prepared, mixed readily with oil and mucilage,
without losing its colour, and undergoing no sensible change when ex-
posed to phlogistic vapours. In consequence of discovering these valu-
able properties, experiments were repeated to ascertain the most certain
and most economical mode of preparation of the zinc, and the result
was, that the calcination of this metal alone gave the purest, the whitest,
and the least changeable calx; and that to obtain the best colour, it was
sufficient to separate, by means of water, the burned from the unburned
parts, grinding the former with some earth of alum or chalk, to give the
pigment a proper body. The white obtained in this way from zinc, may
become of the greatest use to painters, as it may be procured at a mo-
derate expence, and is applicable to many purposes. It might even be
made in such quantities as to supply the place of ceruse or white lead, in
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PAINTING.
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all parts of painting, even in interior house-painting, where it ought cer-
tainly to be preferred; not so much on account of its brilliancy, as for
the safety of the workmen, and even of the inhabitants of houses orna-
mented with white painting; notwithstanding that this white of zinc
may perhaps never be procured so cheap as white lead. Late experi-
ments have succeeded in giving to the white of zinc a greater body than
at first, by which its slowness in drying in oil has been considerably
remedied; but this defect may be removed by adding to the colour a little
vitriol of zinc, or white copperas slightly calcined, which combines bet-
ter with the white of zinc than with any other colour. This mixture
may be made on the pallet, which will cause no alteration in the origi-
nal colour, and even in a small proportion be productive of a great
effect.
ECONOMICAL PAINTING. This branch of painting is very extensive,
comprehending the mechanical processes for preserving and ornamenting
walls of houses, furniture, &c. Of the utensils, brushes and pencils of
all sizes are requisite: the brushes ought to be straight, round, and
smooth; they should before using be washed some time in warm water,
that the wood of the handle may swell and retain the hairs, which would
otherwise be apt to fall off, and adhere to the work.
The brushes are
commonly made of boar's bristles, or of a mixture of bristles and hair;
the pencils are made of badger's hair, or other fine hair, and fixed in
quills of different sizes. The vessels used to hold the various paints
should all be well varnished, to prevent their drying quickly. When
the colours are ground in water, they should be diluted in size made
from parchment; and when diluted with spirits of wine, no more must
be used than what will be necessary for the immediate occasion, as co-
lours prepared in this way dry rapidly. Colours ground in oil are also
diluted with pure oil, or oil mixed with essence of turpentine, or even
with pure turpentine, which makes them easy to work; but when var-
nish is added, only what is requisite for the moment should be pre-
pared, as it must be immediately applied. The addition of varnish gives
the colours great brilliancy, and dries speedily, but more art is neces-
sary in using them. This part of painting is divided into water and oil
colours, with or without the admixture of any varnish. Painting in wa-
ter colours is to do it with those which are ground down in water, and
then diluted in size; it is also divided into common and varnished paint-
ing. Before any of these are applied, it is necessary to take care that no
grease remain on the substance to be painted. The several layers or
coats, especially the first, should be laid on warm, but not so as to affect
the wood; and the last coat, given immediately before the varnish, is the
only one which should be applied cold. Whatever colour is to be laid,
a white ground is the most proper, as it unites well with all other co-
lours, which always partake a little of the nature of the ground. Works
requiring no particular care or preparation, such as stair-cases, cielings,
and the like, are commonly done with water-colours, or earths infused
in water, and applied with size; for a common white Spanish whitening
is employed, pounded and steeped in water until it be dissolved; then
infuse a due quantity of charcoal black for the same time, and mix it
with the white until you have got the tint desired. These are next
mixed together with good size, sufficiently thick and warm, and laid on
in as many coats as may be requisite. If the walls to be painted are
new built, a greater quantity of size is necessary than when they are
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PAINTING.
PAIN!
417
old. In general it is to be observed, that all colours should be ground,
and mixed to the proper degree of tint in water only, and the size added
afterwards, to give them consistency. A very beautiful white colour is
given to walls by the following preparation. Take a quantity of the
very best lime, and pass it through some fine linen into a large tub, fur-
nished with a spigot at the height of the surface of the lime: fill the
tub with clean soft water, then beat up the mixture with a piece of
wood, and let it settle for twenty-four hours. The spigot is then open-
ed, and the water drawn off; in the same way fresh water is added, and
drawn off repeatedly, until the lime has acquired a very brilliant white-
ness. When the last water is carried off, the lime will be found
in the consistency of paste; but, before it be used, a small quantity of
Prussian blue, or indigo, must be added, to relieve the brightness of the
white, and a little turpentine to improve its brilliancy. The proper size
for using with this composition is made of glove-leather and alum, to be
applied with a strong brush in five or six layers on new plaster. The
wall is next to be rubbed strongly, after the painting is dry, with a stiff
brush, which will give it a lustre resembling stucco or marble. Cielings
and roofs of rooms when new, may be done with good whitening, mix-
ed with a little charcoal black, to prevent the white from turning red-
ish. Infuse them separately in water, and mix the whole with half wa-
ter and half glove-leather size. If the roof has been whitened before,
the old colour must be entirely scraped off, and two or three layers
of lime applied for a ground, and the new colour laid on in two or
three coats. But however expeditious and beautiful the method of us-
ing water-colours may be, yet, by the introduction of varnish, severa.
advantages are produced, such as that the colours are not liable to fade,
they reflect the light, give no offensive smell, but permit the chamber
or house to be inhabited soon after the operation, and the wood is pre+
served from insects and moisture.
•
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+
To make a fine varnish, or water colour, sundry operations are neces-
sary, namely, to size the wood, to prepare the white, to soften and rub
the work, to clean the mouldings and carved parts, to paint, to size, and
varnish the whole. The' wood is sized in this manner: take three heads
of garlick, and a handful of leaves of wormwood, boil them in three
pints of water down to one, pass the juice through a linen cloth, and
mix it with a pint of parchment size, add half a handful of salt, and half
a pint of vinegar, and boil the whole over the fire. With this hoiling
liquor size the wood, allowing it to penetrate into the carved and smooth
places, but taking care to take it as clean off the work as possible, or at
least to leave it at no place thicker than at another. The first operation
fills up the pores of the wood, and prevents the materials afterwards
from collecting in a body, which would cause the other layers to fall off
in scales. The next thing to be done is, in a pint of strong parchment
glue or size, diluted with four pints of warm water, put two handfuls of
fine whitening, and infuse the whole for half an hour; stir this well, and
give a single coat of it very warm, but not boiling, laid on smooth and equal,
dashing repeated strokes into the hollows and carved parts. To prepare
the white colour, take some strong parchment size, and sprinkle lightly
over it with the hand, the fine whitening to the thickness of half an
inch: allow this to soak in, for half an hour, near the fire, to keep the
size warm, and then stir it with the brush till the lumps are broken
down, and the composition be properly mixed. With this white lay on
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PAINTING.
}
as many coats as the nature of the work requires, observing that the
layers should be all as nearly as possible of the same colour and consis
tency. The last coat, however, ought to be clearer and thinner than the
others, and this is produced by adding a little water; it is applied more
lightly, taking care with small brushes to cover all the difficult places of
the carvings and mouldings. It is also necessary, between the drying
of the different layers, to fill up all the defects with white mastich and
size. What is called softening the work, is to give it, when whitened,
a smooth and equal surface, and to rub it over with pumice. When the
wood is dry, take small pieces of wood and of pumice shaped in differ-
ent ways, for working on the pannels and mouldings. Then take cold
water, (for any heat would destroy this sort of work) moisten the wall
with a brush, or at least so much of it as can be worked at once, lest the
water should penetrate too much, and spoil what has been formerly
done: then rub and smooth it with the pieces of wood and pumice;
next wash it with a brush as the polishing goes on, and rub it over with
a piece of new linen, which will give a fine lustre to the whole.
House painting with oil colours. By means of oil, all colours are longer
preserved, and not drying so speedily as water colours, they give the
artist more time to smooth, finish, and retouch his work: the colours also
being more, marked, and mixing better together, give more distinguish-
able tints, and more vivid and agreeable gradations; the colouring is
thus rendered more sweet and delicate. Paintings are executed either
with simple oil, or with oil and varnish. When bright colours, such as
white and light grey, are ground and diluted in oil, that of walnuts is
the best, but for dark colours, linseed oil is to be preferred. They must
be laid on cold, unless it be on new or moist plaster, which requires
them to be boiling warm. You should be very attentive to stir the co-
lour often, to prevent it from subsiding, and leaving the oil on the sur-
face; but if, notwithstanding care, the colour should be thick at the
bottom, a little more oil must be added from time to time. In general,
all works to be painted in oil ought to receive a coat or two of white lead
ground and diluted in oil. Where the painting is to be exposed to the
air, as in doors, windows, and other similar works where varnishing is
not applied, the layers of paint should be made with pure walnut oil.
in work within doors, or when the painting is to be varnished, the first
layer ought to be ground and diluted in oil. When there are many
knots in the wood, as is the case with fir, which do not easily take the
colour, it is necessary when painting with pure oil, to apply a little oil
mixed with litharge, on the knots. As there are several colours which
are difficult dry when ground in oil, it becomes necessary to intro-
duce other substances of a drying quality, by which the effect is pro-
duced. Of these there are various sorts; one composition frequently
used is prepared in this manner:-Take half an ounce of litharge, as
much calcined white lead, as much powdered umbre, and the same
quantity of talc. These ingredients are boiled for two hours on a
slow equal fire, with one pound of linseed oil, and kept stirring the
whole time: this must be carefully skimmed and clarified, and the older
it grows, it is the better for use. Doors and windows, to be painted in
pure oil colours, have first a coating of white lead ground in walnut oil,
with a little of the above drying composition, or siccative; then another
coat of the same, to which, if a greyish colour be wanted, add a little
Prussian blue and charcoal black, also ground in walnut oil. The last
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Lay
PAINTING.
419
coats should have less oil in them than the first, and the colour will be
more beautiful, and less apt to blister in the sun. Walls that are to be
painted in this way ought to be very dry, and receive two or three lay-
ers of hot linseed oil, to harden the plaster, then two layers of ochre or
white lead, ground in the same oil; and when these are dry, the wall is
ready to be painted. To paint tiles of a slate colour, grind separately
white lead and German black in linseed oil; mix them together in the
proportion of the desired colour, and dilute them in the same oil; then
give the first coat very thin, to prime the tiles, and make the following
coats thicker, to give a body to the work. Arbours and all sorts of gar-
den work require a coat of white lead ground in walnut oil, and diluted
in the same, with the addition of a little litharge; then two layers of
green, consisting of one pound of verdigris to two pounds of white lead,
ground up in walnut oil. This green is also of great use in the country
for doors, window shutters, seats, rails, whether of iron or wood, and in
general for all works exposed to the weather. Statues, vases, and all
other stone ornaments, either within doors or without, ought first to be
well cleaned, then have a couple of coats of white lead ground in oil of
pinks, and finished by an additional coat of the same. In painting on
walls not exposed to the air, or on new plaster, the best way is to give
one or two coats of boiling linseed oil, applying it till the walls are quite
soaked; then give a coat of white ceruse, ground in walnut oil; and
lastly, two other layers of ceruse in oil of walnuts.
In this way
walls are painted white; but any other colours may be applied by em-
ploying them in a similar manner. To paint chairs, benches, stone or
plaster, give a layer of white ceruse ground in walnut oil, and diluted
in the same, having in it a little litharge to make it dry: then apply a
layer of the tint you have chosen, and afterwards one or two more, var◄
nishing the whole with spirit of wine varnish. A steel colour is pro-
duced by ceruse, Prussian blue, fine lac and verdigris, mixed in such
proportions as to give the colour required. Balustrades and railings
are done with lamp black and varnish of vermilion in two coats, and
finished with spirits of wine varnish.

Since the discovery of oil-painting, and the knowledge that wood is
preserved by it, and especially since the discovery of a varnish without
smell, and which even takes away the smell of oil, the painting of apart
ments in oil has been justly preferred to any other method.
Oil stops
the pores of the wood, and although it does not altogether resist the
impression of moisture, yet the effect is so little perceptible, that it is to
be recommended as the best way known to preserve wood. To preserve
wainscoting in the most effectual manner, it is proper to paint the wall
behind it with two or three coats of common red, ground and diluted in
linseed oil. The wainscot itself is painted first with a coat of white lead
ground, and diluted in walnut oil; when this is dry, two other coats of
the same are to be applied. Two or three days afterwards, when
the colour is dry, apply a coat or two of the white varnish without
smell, to drown that of the colours. The first coats of this work
may also be done in water colours, and the varnish applied as before.
When the pores of the wood are well stopped by the white preparation,
a layer of white lead, ground and diluted in walnut oil, may be applied,
which will be sufficient, the wood being previously primed, and then
the intended colour and varnish.
Painting in varnish. This is to employ colours ground and diluted in
1
:
4.
;
420
ENGRAVING.
varnish, either in spirits of wine or oil, on all sorts of materials. In this
manner, wainscoting, furniture, carriages, &c. are painted. To paint
apartments in this way, give two layers of fine whitening diluted in a
strong size, and boiling hot: then fill up any holes or unevenness of the
wood with mastich in water, and when dry smooth the layers with a
pumice. When the wood is thus made even, suppose you were to paint
a grey colour, take one pound of white ceruse, one drachm of Prussian
blue, or of charcoal or ivory black; put the whole into a piece of leather,
so tied that the colours cannot escape, and shake them till they are suffi-
ciently mixed; then put two ounces of colour into a quartern of varnish,
and when well mixed, apply two coats over the white ground. This
being dry, put one ounce of colour into the same quantity of varnish, and
give another coat. Again, with half an ounce of colour in the same quan-
tity of varnish, apply a third coat. As each of these dries, it must be
carefully rubbed with a piece of coarse new cloth, but so as not to injure
the surface of the colour. These three layers may be applied in one day,
and if a still greater lustre is wanted, a fourth may be added in the
same way.
In this manner any other colour may be applied; and it is
the only one by which orpiment can be employed so as to preserve
all its beauty, although retaining some of its defects.
Another way of
executing this kind of work, is to apply the colours and the varnish
without previously using the size and the white ground. This method
is very expeditious, but it has the defect of not being susceptible of the
high polish and brilliancy of the former method.
CHAP. VI.
:
OF ENGRAVING; AND THE USE OF THE DRY NEEDLE.
THERE are several species of engraving which may principally be
divided into engraving on metals, on wood, on stones, and on glass. But
of every kind of engraving there is none to which the polite arts are
more indebted, or which have afforded a greater benefit to mankind, than
that of engraving on copper-plates.
This may be defined, the making of concave lines on a smooth sur-
face of copper, corresponding to some delineated figure or design, either
by cutting with a tool, or by corrosion with some dissolvent menstruum;
so as to render the plate capable, when charged with any coloured fluid,
of imparting, by compression, an exact representation of the figure or
désign to paper, parchment, or any proper substance.
Engraving merits a very distinguished place among the fine arts. It
is not only an invention of great utility to mankind, but affords to the
mind a particular pleasure in contemplating the perfection to which it
is brought, particularly when we consider the difficulty attending its
execution. By means of this art the cabinets of the curious are adorned
with the portraits of the greatest characters of all ages and nations; the
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ENGRAVING.
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鉴
​most remarkable occurrences of their lives are preserved, and transmitted
to posterity with all their appending circumstances, and that in a more
striking manner than could be performed by the pen of the poet or the
historian. The great and most important events of ancient history are
still perpetuated and presented to our view. We are transported to an-
cient scenes, we view, as if actually present, the devastation which reign-
ed in ancient fields of slaughter; we enter into the contest, and for a
moment forget we are beings of a posterior generation. We form a more
adequate idea of the fables of the earlier part of our race, by seeing pour-
trayed the nereids, deities, nymphs, &c. who influenced the actions and
regulated the conduct of mankind, for upwards of half the age of the
world. It is by this art that painting itself is rendered so generally use-
ful to mankind, as by it the works of the greatest masters are multiplied
beyond number; that the admirers of the fine arts are able, in every
part of the globe, to enjoy those beauties from which their distant situa-
tions seem to have for ever debarred them; and that persons of mode-
rate fortune have hereby the means of being possessed of all the spirit,
and all the poetry, that are contained in those miracles of art, which
seem to have been reserved for the temples of Italy, or the cabinets of
princes. When we reflect, moreover, that the engraver, besides the
beauties of poetic composition, and the artful ordinance of design, is to
express, merely by the means of light and shade, all the various tints of
colours and chiaro oscuro; to give a relief to each figure, and truth to
each object; that he is now to paint a sky, serene and bright, and then'
loaded with dark clouds; now the pure tranquil stream, and then the
foaming raging sea; that he is here to express the character of the man,
strongly marked in his countenance, and there the minutest ornament of
his dress: in a word, that he is to represent all, even the most difficult ob-
jects in nature, we cannot sufficiently admire the vast improvements in
this art,and the high finishing observed in some of its most beautiful
productions.
This art had its origin, as it now exists, at no earlier a period than about
the middle of the fifteenth century. The ancients practised engraving
on precious stones and crystals with very good success; some remains of
their ingenuity in this way are yet extant, and are equal to any produc-
tions of modern times: but the art of engraving on copper and wood
was not known till long after the invention of painting in oil.
The different kinds of engraving on copper are the following:
1. Engraving in strokes with a point, the copper-plate being covered
with a ground, and the strokes afterwards corroded with aqua-fortis:
this is called etching.
2. In strokes with the graver alone, unassisted by aqua-fortis. In
this case the design is traced with the sharp tool called dry point, upon
the plate, and the strokes are cut in the copper by the graver. This is
generally called engraving with the tool and dry point only.
3. In strokes, but which are first etched with aqua-fortis, and then
finished with the graver: by which the two former methods are united.
This mode is the most universally practised, and has also the best
effect.
4. In dots, without strokes, which are performed with the point upon
the wax or ground, and then bitten in with aqua-fortis, as in etching;
but they are afterwards harmonised and softened with the graver, by
making several small additional dots between them. Sometimes this
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ENGRAVING.
:
mode of engraving is effected with the graver only, unassisted by the
point, which is very often the case in the flesh and the finer parts of
portraits.
:
5. In dots, which are first etched as the foregoing, but afterwards
harmonised with the dry point, performed by a little hammer instead
of the graver, This operation is now nearly exploded.
6. In mezzotinto, which is performed by covering the plate with a
strong dark ground, or deep shade, by means of a toothed tool, and cor-
roding the dots with aqua-fortis. The parts which are to be light are
then rendered more or less smooth by the scraper, according to the de-
grees of light they are to represent.
7. In aquatinta, which is a newly-invented method of engraving, but
has suddenly attained a degree of perfection seldom the lot of recent
discoveries: the outline is first etched, and the plate afterwards corrod-
ed, but in a different manner from either etching or mezzotinto, as will
be explained hereafter.
m
pre-
The first accounts we meet with of engraving on copper is from some
German annals, about the year 1450. The earliest copper-plate extant
is dated 1461, which, notwithstanding its rudeness and imperfections,
sufficiently evinces that the engraver was no stranger to the use of his in-
struments: and the copper-plate printer far from being unpractised in
his art. From several other engravings of the same master, we may
dis-
cover that the printing of these plates had become a mechanical profes-
sion: the impressions are so clearly taken in every part, that it is a doubt
whether they could be exceeded by the copper-plate printers of the
sent day, with all the conveniences they now possess, and the additional
knowledge they must necessarily have acquired in the course of between
three and four centuries. Hence, it may be fairly concluded, that if
they were not the first specimens of the engraver's workmanship, they
were much less the first efforts of the copper-plate printer's ability. It
is likewise to be observed, that Martin Schoen, who is said, with great
appearance of truth, to have worked from 1460 to 1486, was, apparent-
ly, the scholar of Stoltzhirs; for he followed his style of engraving, and
copied from him a set of prints representing the Passion of our Saviour:
now, allowing Stoltzhirs to have preceded his disciple only ten years,
this carries the æra of the art back to 1450, as was said above. There
is no ground to suppose that it was known to the Italians till at least ten
years afterwards. The earliest prints that are known to be their's, are
a set of the seven planets, and an almanack, by way of frontispiece; on
which are directions for finding Easter, from the year 1465 to 1517 in-
clusive: and we may be well assured that the engravings were not an-
tedated, for the almanack, of course, became less and less valuable every
year. In all probability, therefore, these prints must have been exe-
cuted in the year 1464, which is only four years later than the Italians
themselves lay any claim to. The three earliest Italian engravers, are
Finiguerra, Boticelli, and Baldini. If we are to refer these prints to
any of the three, we shall naturally conclude them to be the work of
Finiguerra or Baldini; for they are not equal neither in drawing nor
composition to those ascribed to Boticelli, which we know, at least, were
designed by him; and as Baldini is expressly said to have worked from
the designs of Boticelli, it will appear most probable that they belong to
Finiguerra.
With respect to the invention of etching we must speak with less cer-
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4
tainty. Albert Durer has left us an early specimen of this art, in his
piece known by the name of the Cannon, dated 1513: he has also be
queathed us another etching, dated 1524, representing Moses receiving
the tables of the Law. Parmegiano soon after practised it in Italy.
In his works we discover the hand of a great man, labouring under in-
numerable difficulties, and working, as it were, upon a system of his
own invention. We cannot help admiring his efforts, though he failed
in producing the forms he wished to express: on examining the me
chanical part of the execution we may plainly perceive that the subject
was novel to him, and that he had had no instructions or directions: he
died in the year 1540.

That species of engraving which unites etching with the use of the
graver, was, no doubt, adopted very early; that is, immediately upon
the invention of etching: but G. Audran was the first who carried it to
perfection. The Italians, however, have not entirely excluded them-
selves from their share of honour in this branch of the arts. Agostino
Demusis, commonly called Augustine of Venice, a pupil of Marc An-
tonio, used it in several of his earliest works, but confined it to the flesh,
as appears in the print of an old man seated on a bank, with a cottage
in the back ground, without any date. Augustine flourished from
1509 to 1536. We have also another print of this nature, by Giulio
Campagnola, of a single figure, standing and looking upwards, with a
cup in his hand, and said to be engraved about the year 1516; the
back-ground is executed with round dots, made apparently with a dry
point; the figure is outlined with a stroke deeply engraved, and finish-
ed with dots, in a manner greatly resembling those prints which De
Marteau engraved at Paris, in imitation of red chalk. The hair and
beard are expressed by strokes. Stephen De Laulne, a native of Ger-
many, followed the steps of Campagnola; executing many of his slight
works in dots only. This kind of engraving was greatly improved
about the middle of the seventeenth century, by John Boulanger, a
French artist, and his contemporary, Nicholas Plattenberg; but it is
only within the last fifty or sixty years that it has been deemed an ob-
ject worthy of general imitation. John Lutma executed his works of
this kind, with a hammer and a small punch or chissel, and was the
first who practised that mode, which was afterwards, for some time, ge-
nerally followed.
Engraving in mezzotinto is a later discovery than the foregoing: in-
vented by Prince Rupert about the middle of the seventeenth century,
though it is generally asserted that he had the secrect from another.
I
Engraving in aquatinta is the most modern of the whole, and does
great honour to the improved state of the arts of the present age, whe
ther we consider it with regard to the beauty of its effect, or the in-
genuity displayed in the execution of the work throughout. It par-
takes of the excellence of all modern discoveries, namely, arriving to a
considerable state of perfection, even while in the hands of the in-
ventors.
Engraving in strokes, or hatches, with the tool, is undoubtedly the
most ancient kind of engraving, and is still retained for many very use-
ful and valuable purposes. For though etching be performed with a
great deal more ease and expedition, and has several other advantages
attending it; yet the strokes, or lines, are by no means so regular and
exact as those wrought by the graver: for this reason, where great
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ENGRAVING,
precision is required, engraving with the tool is preferred; as, in the
execution of portraits, where the most minute parts must be express-
ed according to the original subject, without the least deviation, or
varying the effect, either by that masterly negligence and simplicity in
some parts, or those bold sallies of the imagination and hand in other
parts, which give such spirit and force to historical painting.
The principal instruments used in engraving with the tool, are
gravers, scrapers, a burnisher, points or needles, compasses, an oil
stone, and a cushion or sand-bag, for bearing the plate. Gravers are
of two sorts, the square and the lozenge: several of each kind should
be provided. The square graver is used for cutting broad and deep
strokes, and the lozenge for the more fine and delicate ones. They
should be about five inches and a half in length, including the handle.
The scraper is used principally in scraping down the shades in mez-
zotinto; it is also serviceable in softening the parts, or clearing away
the bur which arises in engraving. The burnisher is of service to
polish the plate, and to take out any false strokes or scratches it may
have received. It is about seven inches in length, and made of fine
steel, well polished. The burnisher is formed at one end, and the
scraper at the other, each about one inch and a quarter long from the
point. The point, or, as it is generally called, the dry-point, has been
lately introduced into engraving. It is a tool like an etching point,
and which being drawn hard on the copper, cuts a fine stroke, and
raises a bur; when the bur is scraped off, there remains a more soft and
delicate stroke than could be effected by any other means. Compasses
are very useful to take distances, proportions, strike circles, &c. They
should be of brass, with steel points, well tempered. The oil-stone is
used to whet the graver and point upon; it should be of the Turkey
sort. The cushion is a bag of leather, filled with sand. Its use is to
support the plate in such a manner that it may be turned every way
with ease: it should be of the size that will best suit the plate it is in-
tended to bear; it is of a round form; the most common size is about
nine inches over, and three inches thick.
Directions for Practice.
The copper-plate being laid upon the cushion, the graver is to be
held in the hand in such a manner, that the handle of the graver may
rest in the hollow of the hand, and the fore-finger extended upon the
back of the graver towards the point. The point of the graver being
applied to the plate, it must be used in a proper direction for produc-
ing the figure of the lines intended; observing, in forming strait lines,
to hold the plate steady on the cushion; and where they are to be
finer, pressing more lightly; but using greater force where they are
to be broader and deeper. In making circular and other curved lines,
the hand and graver are to be held steadily, and the plate turned up-
on the cushion against the graver; though in some cases the plate
and graver must be both moved, at the same time, one against the
other: without a facility of moving your plate, as well as the graver,
it will be impossible to make any circular or curved line with ease and
neatness. When part of the work is done, it will be necessary to
scrape off the bur which rises in the work; which must be done with

1
ENGRAVING.
425
the scraper, passing it gently, in the most level direction, over the
plate, which will take off the roughness; great care must be taken not
to incline the edge of the scraper or tool used, in such a manner that
it may take the least hold of the copper, which would produce false
strokes or scratches in the work. When you wish to examine the
part which is done, you may rub it with the oil-rubber, which is a roll
of felt, dipped in oil; and which, by filling the strokes with black,
will shew them, when the plate is wiped, to the best advantage.
But it must be remembered, that too much oil rubbing injures very
fine work; as does also too much scraping; the latter most particularly.
The graver must always be carried as level as possible with the sur-
face of the plate, for otherwise, or if the fingers slip between them,
the line produced, whether curve or strait, will become deeper and
deeper in the progress of its formation; which will prevent the stu-
dent from acquiring the habit of making strokes at one cut, that will
be fine at the ends and larger in the middle; and also renders it ne-
cessary to retouch the lines, to bring them to that state. It is very
necessary, therefore, for all who attempt this art, to acquire the habit of
forming strokes that may end as lightly as they began; and if it be
necessary to widen the stroke, or render it deeper in any part, it is to
be done by retouching it in that part with the square graver. Strong
broad strokes are formed by making two or more parallel lines with
the graver, and then breaking them into one. When the work is finish-
ed, if any scratches appear, any false strokes, or if it be necessary that
any part should be obliterated, such parts may be rubbed out with
the burnisher, and the part cleared with the scraper; afterwards it is
to be lightly polished with the burnisher. The plate is lastly to be
rounded off at the edges and corners, by using first a rough file, and
afterwards a smoother one, and then polishing the edges with the
burnisher.
In order to form a proper idea of this noble and elegant art of en-
graving in strokes, we may observe, once for all, that any line may
be crossed by another line; or any number of lines by any other num-
ber of lines: but it is not every intersection or crossing that is grace-
ful. For instance, if a number of parallel lines in an engraving be
crossed by others running nearly in the same direction, they will form
by their intersections a number of areas of a sharp and disagreeable
lozenge shape, which is proper only in certain instances: and, if the
first lines be crossed by others at right angles, the areas formed by
their intersections will be so many squares; which always possess a
certain hardness of appearance, and are proper only to some particular
subjects: consequently, excellence in the art, and elegance of appear-
ance, consist in neither of these forms solely, but in a medium between
them, or a junction of these and other methods. For, in a well exe-
cuted engraving we observe, in some places, some of the following
modes, and, in the whole piece, all the subsequent varieties, and not,
unfrequently, many others purely the invention of the engraver; 1.
single lines, sometimes of considerable length; 2. lines crossed by
others at a pleasant lozenge, not too acute; 3. lines crossed at right
angles, where a kind of obscurity is wanted; 4. two courses of lines
crossing at a lozenge, and intersected with a third in a lozenge
course, but more soft and tender than either of the other two; b.
lines crossing each other at right angles, intersected by a third course
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ENGRAVING.
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of lines at a lozenge which soften the squares, and render the work
more elegant; 6. strong lines of a firm colour, at a considerable dis-
tance from each other, with a fine line between them this is called in-
terlining; 7. firm lines like the former, but crossing each other, and
also interlined; 8. round dots, often made in the flesh, and where soft
shades are required; 9. long dots made with the graver for the same
purpose; 10. long dots crossing each other, or a kind of short broken
lines; 11. lines of dots crossed by fine thin lines; 12. very fine thin
lines made by the dry point in the light parts of the piece. Some of
these methods, or similar ones introduced, according to the judgment
of the engraver, produce that wonderful effect, richness, and character
we so much admire in excellent prints, and which no other manner
of engraving can boast of; it is also further enriched by a judicious
mixture of etching, engraving, and the work of the dry-point.
•

From what has been said it is evident, that this art, with all its
excellencies, consists only in the judicious mechanical management of
the graver and dry-point: yet, of its numerous professors, very few
attain superior merit: and it may be generally observed, that, of this
happy few, not many excel in more than one branch. Though it does
not require that fertility of genius the original artist should possess,
it, nevertheless, is to be attained only by a dint of assiduity and prac-
tice. Few rules will suffice; but much depends on the patience and
perseverance of the student. A few general leading principles to in-
struct the student in the method of producing certain well-known ef-
fects are all that he can expect from theory, the rest he must derive
from his own practice and experience.
He who is well acquainted with design, and consequently the general
principles of perspective and architecture, possesses the previous know-
ledge to the attempting this art; though it must be confessed there
have been some very expert in the management of their instruments,
who have also been greatly defective in those arts. It must be allowed,
that a person unacquainted with perspective will be unable to express
the proper degradations of strong and faint colours; and to throw back
the figures and objects of his picture to their proper distance. And
without a knowledge of architecture he will never understand the due
proportions of the several orders, which the painter often entrusts to
the discretion of the engraver. It is worthy of remark, also, to the en-
graver who would desire to excel, in order to preserve equality and
union in his work, that he sketch out the principal objects of his piece
before he undertake to finish them. With regard to the intersections
of the lines of the graver, though (as before observed) they must not
be crossed in too lozenge a direction, particularly in the representation
of flesh, and in picturesque designs, yet we must except the case of
clouds, tempests, waves of the sea, the skins of rough hairy animals,
the leaves of trees, &c. where this method of crossing may be admitted.
But, in avoiding the lozenge intersections, we must be careful of falling
into the square, or right-angled crossings, which would have too much
the appearance of the hardness of stone. The graver should be guided
by the action of the figures; and the shape of the objects should also be
considered; in what manner they advance towards, or recede from the
eye of the observer. The risings, or cavities of the muscles should al-
so he noticed, making the strokes wider and fainter in the lights, and
closer and firmer in the shades. Thus the figures will
Thus the figures will appear whole


ENGRAVING.
427
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and finished: the hand should also be lightened in such a manner, that
the outlines may be formed and terminated without being cut too hard.
Though the strokes generally break off where the muscle begins, yet
they ought always to have a certain connection with each other; so that
the first stroke may often serve, by its return, to make the second,
which will shew the freedom of the graver.
In the flesh, particularly the lighter parts, and middle tints, the ef-
fect may be produced by long pecks of the graver, rather than faint
lines; but some prefer round dots for this purpose: others use dots a
little lengthened by the graver: the best method, however, is to com-
bine all those three ways together with judgment, for which no better
direction can be given than carefully to examine the work in some ex-
cellent engraving. To produce the effect in the hair and beard, the
principal grounds and chief shades should be sketched first, in a careless
manner, with a few firm strokes, which are afterwards finished at leisure
with finer and thinner strokes at the extremities.
In representing architecture, the work ought not to be rendered very
black, except the subject be old ruinous buildings: because edifices be-
ing constructed generally of white marble, or stone, they reflect a light
on all sides, and therefore do not produce very dark shades. Sculpture
being generally formed of white stone, is governed by the same rule:
and it must be observed in engraving from the work of the statuary,
white points must not be put in the pupils of the eyes of figures, as in
engravings after paintings; neither must the hair or beard have that
freedom as in nature, where the locks appear flowing; because, in sculp-
ture, no such appearance can take place.
The representation of different substances require not only different
forms of lines and dots, but different modes of intersecting the lines, to
produce a natural appearance. A great variety obtains both in the
shades and lights of the different sorts of clothing; linen requires finer
and closer lines than other sorts, and should also be executed with
single strokes, or without interlining. Woollen-cloth should be engrav-
ed with only two strokes, which should generally be wide apart, in
proportion to the coarseness of the cloth: but when the strokes are
crossed, the second should be less than the first, and the third less than
the second. Silk, sattin, and many other shining substances, produce
flat and broken folds, and should, therefore, be engraved more hard,
with straighter lines than others; and with one or two strokes, as their
colours are more bright or brown; and the first strokes should also be
interlined with smaller ones. Plush and velvet are also expressed in
the same manner. Metals, and consequently ancient armour, are re-
presented by clear single strokes interlined. In architecture, the strokes
which form the rounding object should tend to the point of sight; in
whole columns, perpendicular lines should be used as much as possible;
and, if a cross stroke is introduced, it should be at right angles to the
first stroke, and wider and thinner. In representing mountains, the
strokes should be strait, in the lozenge manner, frequently discontinu-
ed, or broken, to represent sharp, craggy points: they should also be
accompanied with long points, or dots: but rocks should be formed by
cross strokes more square and even. All distant objects should have
very faint and tender shadows, and be somewhat obscurely defined :
the greater their distance is, the more indistinct they must appear.
Calm still waters require strait strokes parallel to the horizon, inter-
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ENGRAVING.
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lined with finer ones, omitting such parts, as, in consequence of gleams
of light, exhibit the shining appearance of water; and the forms of ob-
jects reflected from the water are expressed by the same strokes re-
touched more strongly or faintly, as occasion may require, and even by
some that are perpendicular. Agitated waters, the waves of the sea, &c.
should be done with the first strokes following the figure of the waves,
which should be interlined, and the cross stroke should be very lozenge.
Cascades are represented by strokes following the direction of the wa-
ter in its fall, which should also be interlined. In representing clouds,
when they appear thick and agitated, the graver may turn in every di-
rection, according to their form and agitation: but dark clouds, which
require two strokes, have their strokes crossed more lozenge than the
figures, the second strokes being wider than the first: flat clouds that
are hardly visible, in a clear sky, are formed by strokes parallel to the
horizon, but a little waving; if they be crossed with second strokes,
these should be more or less lozenge; and when they approach the ex-
tremities, the hand should be lightened in such a manner that their
ends may not form any outline. In representing a flat clear sky, strait
parallel strokes must be formed, without the least winding. With re-
gard to landscape it must be observed in general, that etching has a
far better effect than engraving, on account of the freedom of the work,
and the ease which appears in etchings above what is seen in engrav-
ings; therefore the trees, rocks, earth, herbage, &c. should always be
etched, or, at least, as much as conveniently can be done; nothing left
for the graver but the perfecting, softening, and strengthening. And,
in most subjects whatever, the shadows ought to be etched, and the
lighter tints finished with the graver, dry-points, &c.
ļ

Of Whetting and Tempering the Graver. It is necessary that the artist
understand how to choose a good graver, to whet it when requisite,
and to temper it when too hard. The two sides, which form what is
called the belly of the graver, are more or less angled, and their extre-
mities form the point. When ground, the breadth of the end is termed
its face. In whetting the graver, great address and care is requisite:
The two lower angles of the graver are to be laid flat upon the oil-
stone, and rubbed steadily, until they are as bright as a mirror, and
till the belly rises gradually; so that when the graver is laid flat up-
on the plate, the light may be perceived under the point; otherwise it
will dig into the copper, and it will be impossible to use it with free-
dom. The face is next to be whetted, which is done merely by laying
the face of the graver flat upon the stone, with the belly upwards, and
rubbing it steadily upon a moderate slope, until it acquire a very sharp
point, which may be tried on the thumb-nail; observing that the stone
be supplied with oil during the whole time. Gravers, as sold in the
shops, are generally too hard for use, which may be known by the
frequent breaking of their points. When this is the case, they should
be tempered, by holding them on a red-hot poker, till they change to a
light straw colour, and then dipping them in oil: or they may be held
in the flame of a candle, and cooled in the tallow. The gravers, which
are so soft as to yield to a file, are worth nothing.
ENGRAVING.
429
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OF ETCHING, AND PREPARATION OF GROUNDS.
Etching is a species of engraving, and of a more modern invention
than that performed by the tool only. It is effected principally by the
corrosive quality of aqua-fortis: the copper-plate being first covered
with a resinous ground, which preserves the metal from the action of
that powerful menstruum, while other parts of the plate are exposed
to its influence, by lines drawn, with proper instruments, through the
ground: and by the greater or less action of the acid spirit on the plate
different excavations are effected, and the plate is rendered capable of
displaying the different tints of light and shade, or all the beauties of
the chiaro oscuro. The first operation in this art is the laying on the
ground. Several recipes have been given for the forming of this com-
position; and among those who profess the art there is a great diversity
in their preparation of the ground. It is an article of great import-
ance to the engraver, and deserves his principal consideration. Here
we give the composition of the most generally approved grounds, leav-
ing the artist to his predilection, as his own choice or experience may
direct him.

and
*
Rembrandt's Ground.-Take of asphaltum, burnt, half an ounce;
the same quantity of gum-mastic, pulverize or beat them to a fine
powder; and add them, by degrees, to one ounce of virgin-wax, melted
over a gentle fire, stirring the composition till the whole be thoroughly
incorporated: which, when intimately compounded, pour into clean
water, and make it into balls for use. When this ground is used, it
should be laid on the plate very thin; and the plate must not be made
too hot.
Callot's Ground.-Take a quarter of a pound of virgin-wax, and two
ounces of asphaltum, the same quantity of mastic, one ounce of resin,
one ounce of shoemaker's pitch, half an ounce of common pitch, half
an ounce of varnish; melt the wax, and add the other ingredients as
before, and when incorporated pour it into water.
Another ground in very frequent use.---To a quarter of a pound of
virgin-wax add the following ingredients: two ounces of asphaltum,
one ounce of amber, and one ounce of mastic. The asphaltum and
mastic must be reduced to a very fine powder, as before, and gradually
mixed with the wax, which is melted over a gentle fire. The compo-
sition is then poured into water, and made into balls as the others.
Some use a ground formed only of six ounces of virgin-wax, four ounces
of mastic, and two of asphaltum, prepared as above directed. The
ground generally used by engravers is one of the foregoing; but it must
be observed, that the ground should differ in consistence according to
the temperature of the weather, being made harder in summer, and of
a softer nature in cold weather.
When the ground is to be laid on, the plate must be heated to a suf-
ficient degree, either over a charcoal-fire, or by a fire of common coal,
so that it may not be smoked. For this purpose a hand-vice is fixed
to the most convenient part of the plate, by which it may be held in
the hand. When the plate changes colour, or rejects the fluid when
spit upon, it is sufficiently heated. The ball of ground is then rubbed
on, being tied in a piece of thin silk; and, as it is rubbed gently over
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ENGRAVING.
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the plate, the heat melts the composition through the silk, and the rub-
bing is continued till it be distributed over every part of the plate. The
ground is then beat with the dabber, (which is a piece of cotton tied
up in silk) to render it perfectly smooth, and uniformly thin through-
out. Great dexterity is required in dabbing the ground, to render it
of an uniform thickness; for, if some parts be thicker than others, it
will deceive the engraver in his etching, and biting-in of his work,
The ground is next to be smoked, by holding it over the flame of a
lamp, which emits a copious vapour, or two or three common candles
united together will answer the purpose; observing to move the plate
about, so that the smoke may pervade every part of the ground. The
plate being cold will be ready to receive the outlines of the print, or
drawing, which is to be traced on the ground in the following man-
-Rub the back of the print, drawing, or design of which in-
tend to engrave a plate, with the scrapings of red chalk, or flake white
or black-lead powder, or any other substance which will readily impart
a legible mark, then place this coloured side of the drawing upon the
ground of the copper-plate, making it fast at each corner with soft wax.
Place the small board, called the etching-board, over that part of the
drawing upon which you are not employed, to rest your hand upon,
to prevent your hand bruising the ground; and, with a blunt etching-
needle, trace lightly the outlines of the drawing, and also the breadth of
the shadow; and the back of the drawing, which is coloured, will com-
municate similar lines to the ground of the copper-plate. The tracing
must not be performed too heavily, otherwise the ground will be broken.
During the operation of tracing it is necessary frequently to lift up one
corner of the drawing, to examine whether every part be traced, before
the drawing be taken off the plate; as then it would be very difficult
to replace it in its former position. The tracing being completed, the
drawing is to be removed, and the subject is ready for etching.
The principles of etching are very simple, and are easily performed
by those who have but a moderate proficiency in the art of design, be-
ing little more than drawing the outlines through the ground upon the
copper with a pointed needle. There are several of these instruments
employed in the art, according to the breadth of the strokes required
to be made. They are nearly similar to sewing needles; but
stronger, and inserted into handles from four to five inches long. They
are formed with various points; some being round, and others oval,
which have each their separate use. The former being used for fainter,
and the latter for darker strokes. Having laid a piece of silk or linen
next the plate, and over that the etching-board, proceed to etch the
work, beginning with the fainter works, which are to be worked closer,
and with a sharper pointed needle; next proceeding to the darker points,
which must be etched wider, and with a blunter needle. In buildings
and architecture in general, straight and parallel lines should be drawn
with a straight or parallel ruler, except the etcher have a very steady
hand, and have had considerable practice. Lines, drawn in etching,
may, in general, be crossed by other lines, if required. Two parallel
lines, drawn close together, will unite into one when biting, and form
one strong line of great breadth and colour: This mode of making
black lines is very serviceable in dark fore-grounds in landscape, and
sometimes has a good effect in architecture: but, in historical subjects,
etching is chiefly used to prepare the figures for the graver, which it
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ENGRAVING.
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•
performs with much facility, and gives the piece an appearance of
greater freedom than could otherwise be effected.
Etching, though expeditiously performed, has several advantages
above engraving. It is true, that it possesses a certain roughness of
appearance, compared with engraving, and therefore does not suit sub-
jects which require a gloss or lustre: but it has an excellent effect in
most representations of uncultivated nature, as in landscape, the broken
and loose touches of fore grounds, the barks of trees, &c. It very hap-
pily expresses the ravages of time in old buildings, ancient castles,
mouldering walls, and the like. The freedom of its appearance renders
it very appropriate for expressing the leaves of trees, light clouds, &c.
It is very valuable for possessing a true, even, and uniform colour, for
which it may be depended upon more than the work of the graver on-
ly; by which quality it obtains in the blue parts of skies, and also
where an even tint is wanted in new architecture, back-grounds to
portraits, and many other grounds where the parallel-ruler is used.
Directions for Biting.
*
The work being etched, the plate is next to be corroded with aqua-
fortis: a border of soft wax (composed of melted bees'-wax, tempered
with one-third or one-fourth of its quantity of Burgundy pitch, or
with a little Venice turpentine and tallow) is to be raised upon the
plate, round the work, in the form of a mound or wall, to inclose the
aqua-fortis, and prevent its running off. A gutter is usually made at
one corner of the plate, for pouring off the aqua-fortis, when requisite,
but which is stopped up with a little wax or tallow, during the time
the aqua-fortis is to remain on the plate. The plate being thus bor-
dered, some common. refiner's aqua-fortis is to be mixed with half its
quantity of water, and poured gently upon the plate, till it rises about
a finger's breadth above the surface of the ground; when, if all things
have been rightly conducted, it will be seen that the menstruum will
soon begin to exert itself in the hatches which have been more strongly
touched: but the more faint strokes will appear for some time clear,
and of the colour of the copper. The aqua-fortis must, therefore,
continue on the plate till it appears to have acted on the tender and
finer parts of the work. And during the time it remains on the plate
it should be gently agitated by a feather, with which the operator should
cleanse away the foulness of the verdigrise that gathers in the hatches,
when the aqua-fortis exerts its influence: by which means the hatches
will be cleansed, and the menstruum will act with greater force, and
more equally on every part of the plate. When you think the work is
sufficiently bitten, pour off the aqua-fortis, and wash the plate care-
fully with water: when dry, scrape off part of the ground from some
of the faintest parts of the work, to see if it be sufficiently corroded; and
if it be not bitten enough, stop out the part you have examined with
a hair pencil dipped in a mixture of Venetian varnish and lamp-black;
and when that is dry pour on the aqua-fortis again.
x
When the faint parts of the work are excavated to a proper depth,
stop them out with the Venetian varnish, and proceed to rebite the
stronger parts, by pouring on the aqua-fortis again; and proceed tc
stop out other parts, and again bite others, if requisite, till the whole
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ENGRAVING.
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work is sufficiently corroded. Then warm the plate to take off the
border of soft wax; after which make it sufficiently hot to melt the
ground, then, by pouring on it a little olive oil, the whole may be
wiped off with a linen rag. The ground being taken off, the plate is
to be well rubbed with the oil rubber, and wiped clean: lastly, it is to
be finished with the graver and the other dry tools, if the subject re-
quire it, which is generally, the case. In biting a plate the greatest
attention is necessary: for if it be under-bitten, or, in other words, if
the parts have not attained their proper depth of colour, there is usually
no other remedy than that of following every line with the graver, in
order to blacken it: on the other hand, if a plate be over-bitten it can
never be rendered neat and delicate, though ever so much time and skill
be bestowed upon it: but if it be bitten only a little above the colour
intended, a few strokes of the burnisher will generally reduce it to a
perfect tint.
Several precautions are necessary to the inexperienced in this art, in
the different parts of the process :---it is necessary that the plate be per-
fectly clean and free from any greasy spots before the ground be laid
thereon, as grease prevents the ground from adhering to the plate: it
should, therefore, be well cleaned with whiting, which must be again
wiped off before the ground be laid thereon: the plate should not be
made too hot, when it is to receive the ground, otherwise the ground
will be burnt, and will then have a scorched appearance. In smok-
ing the ground over the lamp, or candle, care must be taken to hold
the plate at a proper distance from the flame, that it may not be scorch-
ed, which will easily be seen by the ground appearing burnt, and losing
its gloss; yet the whole ground must be smoked before the plate
grows cold, for it is necessary that it be in a fluid state during the ope-
ration of smoking: if it become cold, it must be heated again; or, if
it appear that the smoke has not penetrated the ground, the plate must
also be again gently heated, when it will be perceived, that, in pro-
portion as the plate grows hot, the ground will melt and incorporate
with the black which lay above it, in such a manner that it will be per-
vaded by it throughout every part. The expedition which is necessary
in smoking the ground is the reason why three or four candles, a
flambeau, or strong lamp, must be used. And where a plate is very
large, it is expedient to suspend it from the ceiling of a room, by four
strong cords fastened together at the top, having an iron ring of about
four inches in diameter to each, which sustains each corner of the plate,
and which is suspended with the varnished side downwards. In this
situation it may be blackened very conveniently, by only moving the
candles or flambeaus to the different parts of it: and during the whole
time that the ground is warm, the operator must be careful to keep
from it all dust or filth of any kind which would stick fast thereto, and
greatly injure his work. In tracing his drawing, he must be careful
of bearing too heavily on his work, lest he break his ground. In the
management of his aqua-fortis great address is requisite; and experience
is absolutely necessary to manage this powerful agent with success.
In making the ground, the ingredients must be melted over a slow
fire; and while the asphaltum is putting in, and even after it is mixed
with the other articles, they should be constantly stirred with a spatula,
and suffered to simmer gently, till a drop put on a plate will break be-
tween the fingers when cold: the water into which the composition is
1
ENGRAVING.
433
poured, should be nearly of the same warmth with the articles, to pre-、
vent a kind of cracking which would otherwise happen in the ground,
when finished. If any scratches or false strokes happen in the work-
ing, they are to be stopped up with the Venetian varnish and lamp-
black, by which means they will be defended from the action of the
aqua-fortis.
A variety of needles, or pointers, is necessary, some with points as
sharp as those of common needles, for the very fine lines. Those used
for broad large strokes should be very blunt, exceeding round, and well
polished at the point. The sole of a shoe answers very well for polish-
ing the pointers; but they should be whetted upon the oil-stone, some
with a more blunt, and others with a sharper point, according to their
respective uses, and which requires considerable address. The pointers
may also be numbered according to their uses.
There are, generally speaking, two kinds of etching, the one above
mentioned, called etching with the soft ground, to distinguish it
from the other, or etching with the hard ground. The former has
now prevailed nearly to the exclusion of the latter, except in the case of
particular subjects. The hard ground was formerly much in use, though
it be, undoubtedly, a more modern invention than the etching with the
soft ground. It was, however, more admired than the other species, on
account of the practice more nearly resembling the work of the graver ;
as the firmnes of the ground enabled the artist to retouch the lines, or
open them when too narrow with the oval-pointed needles.
ENGRAVING IN CHALK.
This method of engraving has lately, very deservedly, merited public
attention, by the beauty of many specimens it has produced. It may
be considered as a method of etching in dots, since the preparation of
the plate, laying the ground, tracing the subject, &c. is the same as in
etching. The principal difference is, that instead of lines, as in etching,
the drawing, shadows, &c. consist of a mixture of varied and irregular
dots, as freely as can possibly be done, yet carefully, and made more or
less soft, so as to resemble the grain produced by the chalk on paper.
For every stroke-of the chalk on paper may be considered as an infinite
number of adjoining points, which are the small eminences of the grain
of the paper, touched by the chalk in passing over it. The plate being
prepared, and the ground laid as in etching, the drawing to be imitated
may be counterproved on the ground of the plate. If this cannot con-
veniently be done, black-lead pencil, or red-chalk, must be applied to
varnished or oiled paper; by which means all the traces of the drawing
may be transferred to the ground. The outlines of the drawing must
be formed in the etching by points, which will create dots, whose size
and distances must be determined by the quality of the strokes of the
original drawing. In forming the lights and shades, it is necessary to
distinguish between those hatches which serve to express the perspective
of the object, and those which form the ground thereof. The principal
hatches must be more strongly marked; the middle tints, if etched,
marked lightly, or they may be left to be finished by the dry-needle
and graver after the ground is taken off, which will give them a greater
degree of softness. In applying the aqua-fortis, the artist should be
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434
ENGRAVING.
careful not to corrode the lighter parts too much.
When these parts
are sufficiently bitten, they may be stopped up with the turpentine var-
nish and lamp-black; and the aqua-fortis may be applied again to bite
the stronger parts; and it may be observed, that if the dots which com-
pose the shade burst into each other, it will not injure the work, except
they form too hard a spot, or too considerable a black. When the
ground is taken off the plate, it will be necessary to interstipple with pro-
per points in the flesh, and softer parts of the work, which will produce
a more delicate effect than can ever be attained with the aqua-fortis alone:
the strongest shades will also require additional strength, and must,
therefore, be deepened by slight strokes of the graver. The graver is
the only tool that can be depended upon in finishing small subjects which
require neatness. The best manner of preparing it is by changing its
situation in the handle, so that the belly part of it, which was lower-
most, becomes uppermost; then, by turning the handle in the hand,
the point acts upon the copper from a greater elevation, which is pre-
ferable; as dots only, and not strokes, are required, the tool is managed
in this position with much greater ease and freedom. This part of the
operation consists only in covering the copper with dots in a manner,
lighter or heavier, proportionate to the colour required. When one co-
vering of dots is scraped off, another must be inserted, and so on: by
this repetition, a proper grain and sufficient masses of shade are procured.
Though the process is tedious, it requires no very great skill in the ar-
tist: care, attention, and practice, will enable him to succeed.

This species of engraving admits of greater variety in the mode of
executing it than either etching or engraving with the tool. Of those
who profess it, every one has a peculiar method of performing some
particular part. In large subjects, and also in those where a general
effect only is wanted, and great exactness is not required, some persons
use various tools for facilitating their work, such as wheels having single
or double rows of teeth at their edges, cradles resembling a mezzotinto
grounding-tool, (but made with teeth) and sometimes others constructed
according to their own minds: but these tools, though more expeditious
than the graver, seldom produce a very good effect, and can never be
depended upon, in any degree, for accuracy or neatness.
It will sometimes happen, particularly to him who is not well prac-
tised in the art, that those parts which were intended to be dark fail in
their proposed effect, which is sometimes the fault of the tool, the
ground, or the aqua-fortis, but more frequently of the inexperience
of the artist. When this is the case, the plate may be re-bitten
by heating the plate, and, at a convenient part thereof, melting
a quantity of ground and with a dabber carefully by degrees,
transplanting it, by beating it gently to the parts proposed, so that the
surface only of the copper may be covered, and the hollows or excava-
tions of the work may be free and clean. When the plate is cold, it
be rebitten with aqua-fortis as before. It is advisable not to smoke it
in this operation, lest the heat of the candle or lamp melt the ground
into the work. This method of re-biting the work is used not only in
engraving in chalks, but in every species of engraving where aqua-fortis
is used, and in every kind of etching, and is among the secrets of the
superior engravers. To clean engraved strokes, they should be
washed with a little spirit of turpentine; if the dirt is of long standing,
soap-lees poured on the plate while it is heating will be very effectual
may
·
ENGRAVING.
435
in clearing away the dirt. But it must be immediately washed off with
plenty of cold water, otherwise it will injure the work; it is also too
strong for mezzotinto plates, unless used very carefully, and not suffered
to continue long on the plate.
The chief merit of engraving in chalks is to form a kind of deception,
which, when well executed, it does very successfully, so that the con-
noisseur is hardly able, on the first inspection, to distinguish between
the original drawing and the engraving made in imitation of it. It is
extremely useful, as it serves to multiply copies of drawings left by
those masters who excelled in the use of chalks, and furnishes young
artists with the same assistance in the practice of drawing as if they had
access to the original. Drawing also made with chalks of different co-
lours may be imitated in this manner, if a plate be provided for every
colour. The French have very well imitated drawings on blue paper,
by using two plates, one of which printed the black chalk effect, the
other that of the white chalk. Chalk-plates, likewise, printed in black
on blue paper, may afterwards be touched with white chalk, whereby
they will have a very pleasing effect.
OF MEZZOTINTO SCRAPING.
Prince Rupert is generally reported to have been the inventor of this art,
and is said to have received the idea from seeing a soldier polish his rusty
arms with a file. But Baron Heinikin, a very judicious and accurate
writer upon the subject of engraving, asserts, with great appearance of
truth, that it was a lieutenant-colonel De Siegan, an officer in the service
of the Landgrave of Hesse, who first engraved in this manner; and that
the print which he produced was a portrait of the princess Amelia Eli-
zabeth of Hesse, engraved in the year 1643. From the writings, how-
ever, of the best informed upon this, subject, we find that Prince Rupert
learned the secret from that gentleman, and brought it into England,
when he came over the second time with Charles II. His print of an
executioner holding a sword in one hand and a head in the other (a half
length, from Spagnoletto) is dated 1658. This art has never been cul-
tivated with such success in any country as in England, and is one
among the many valuable improvements in art, which owes its present
state of perfection to the fostered genius of Britain.
Prince Rupert, though so early in the art, succeeded better than many
of his followers. He laid his ground with a channelled roller, upon the
same principle as the present grounding-tool; but one Sherwin, about
the same time, laid his grounds with a half-round file, which was press-
ed down with a heavy piece of lead. Both these grounding-tools have
been laid aside for many years, and the present grounding-tool intro-
duced, which, in its form, resembles a shoemaker's cutting-board-knife,
with a fine crenelling on the edge. This was the invention of Edial (a
smith by trade) who afterwards became a mezzotinto printer.
This art merits attention, from the facility with which it is performed,
and its beautiful and soft effect. The operator rakes, hatches, or punches
the surface of the plate all over with the instrument made for that pur-
pose, first one way, then the other, across, &c. till the surface of the plate
be thus entirely furrowed with dots; close, and, as it were, contiguous
to each other; so that, if an impression was then taken from the plate,
}
436
ENGRAVING.
it would be one uniform blot or smut. The design is then drawn or
marked on the same face; after which, with burnishers, scrapers, &c.
the artist proceeds to expunge and take out the dents or furrows, in all
the parts where the lights of the piece are to be thrown: and scraping
it more or less, as the lights are to be stronger or fainter; leaving those
parts black which are to represent the shadows or deepening of the
draught.
The great facility with which mezzotintos are executed is evident ·
from the nature of the operation; for it is much easier to scrape or bur-
nish away parts of a dark ground, corresponding with any design
sketched upon it, than to form shades upon a light ground by an infi-
nite number of hatches, strokes, and points, which must all terminate
with exactness on the outline, as well as differ in their force and
manner, as is the case in the other kinds of engraving: the method of
scraping in mezzotinto, consequently becomes much more easy and ex-
peditious than any other manner of engraving. The instruments used
in this kind of engraving are cradles, or grounding-tools, scrapers, and
burnishers.
Particular Directions.
Notwithstanding the great difference in the works of the mezzotinto
engravers, their operations are nearly the same. The plate must be
prepared and polished in the same manner as for other work; and af-
terwards divided equally by lines parallel to each other, which are to be
traced out with very soft chalk. The distance of these lines should be
about one-third of the length of the face of the cradle, or grounding-
tool, which is to be used; and they should also be marked with capital
letters, or strokes of the chalk, to distinguish them from one another.
The cradle is then to be placed exactly between the two first lines, and
passed forwards in the same direction with them, being held as steady
as possible, and pressed upon with a moderate force, rocking it from
end to end, till it has completely hacked all that part of the plate between
those two lines. The same operation must be repeated with respect to
all the other lines, till the instrument has thus passed over the whole
surface of the plate, and rendered it uniformly rough throughout.
Other lines must be then drawn from the extremities of the other two
sides, in the same manner, and at the same distance from each other, as
the first set of lines; these lines intersecting the first at right angles,
will, with them, form squares. The same operation must be repeated.
with the cradle, between this second course of lines, as in the case of
the first. New lines must then again be drawn diagonally to the for-
mer, and bisecting the aforesaid squares, and the cradle passed betwixt
them as before: when the first diagonal operation is performed, the dia-
gonal lines must be crossed at right angles by other lines, as the former,
and the cradle passed betwixt them in the same manner.
The plate
having undergone the action of the cradle, according to the disposition
of the first order of lines as above, a second set of lines must be formed,
having the same distances from each other as the first. But they must
be so placed as to divide those already made, into spaces one-third less
than their whole width; i. e. every one, after the first on each side, will
take in one-third of that before it; e. g. beginning at A, of which
the first third must be left out; a third of B will consequently be taken
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ENGRAVING.
487
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in, and so of the rest. These lines of the second order must be marked
with small letters, or lesser strokes, to distinguish them from the first:
and another ground must be laid on the plate, by hacking it with the
grounding-tool, between each two of the second order of lines. When
this second operation is finished, a third order of lines.must be made;
the first of which, e. g. in A, must omit two-thirds of it, and consequent-
ly take in two-thirds of B, &c. By these means the original spaces will
be exactly divided into equal thirds; and the cradle must be again em-
ployed betwixt these lines as before. When the whole of this operation
is finished, it is called one turn; but in order to produce a very dark
and uniform ground, the plate must undergo the repetition of all these
several operations for above twenty times; beginning to pass the cradle
again betwixt the first lines, and proceeding in the same manner through
all the rest. The plate being thus prepared with a proper ground, the
sketch of the design, or outline, must be chalked on it, by rubbing the
back of the paper, or drawing with chalk, and tracing the outline with a
pointer, as in etching, It is also proper to overtrace it afterwards with
black lead or Indian ink, to have a more distinct and permanent sketch.
The scraping is then performed by paring or scraping away the grain
of the ground in various degrees, so that none of it is left in the original
state, except in the touches of the strongest shade. The general method
of proceeding is similar to that of drawing with white upon black paper.
The masses of the strongest light are first begun with, and scraped pretty
smooth; and some parts, where there is no shade, as the tip of the nose,
&c. are burnished, and those parts which go off into light in their upper
part, but are brown below. The next lower gradations of shade are
then scraped down, after which the reflections are entered upon: the
plate is next to be blackened with a printer's blacking ball, made of felt,
in order to discover the effect: and then the work is proceeded with
again, observing always to begin every part in the places where the
strongest lights are to be introduced.
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OF AQUA-TINTA.
This method of etching on copper is a modern invention; more facile
in its operation than any manner of engraving or etching hitherto
known, and produces a more beautiful and soft effect, resembling a
drawing in water colours or Indian ink, of a more soft and delicate na-
ture than mezzotinto. The first person who finished any pieces of this
kind, that had a soft appearance, and at the same time would print any
considerable number of impressions, was M. Le Prince, of Paris, who
produced some specimens of his work in his Modes et Usages de Russie.
He still further improved this important discovery; and at length the
honourable Mr. Greville, brother of the Earl of Warwick, struck with
the novelty of the invention, purchased the secret of M. Le Prince,
for the sum of thirty guineas, and communicated the process to the in-
genious Mr. P. Sandby, who had before attempted it, but with little
success: his genius, however, so far improved upon the method of Le
Prince, that he soon produced pieces of considerable excellence. The
lightness and simplicity of the effect attracted admiration from the ama-
teurs of art; and many ingenious engravers, as well as artists, considered
it an object worthy of their pursuit, and endeavoured to render them-
438
ENGRAVING.
*
selves masters of the art. Hence several new methods of working in
aqua-tinta were invented, each of which had its followers and partizans,
which produces that great variety and difference observable in their
works.
In this branch of etching nearly the whole of the work is performed
by the corrosive quality of the aqua-fortis on the copper: for after the
mere outline is obtained, there is no use for the graver, needles, bur-
nisher, scraper, or any other tool, the different shades being effected by
the greater or less action of the aqua-fortis on the copper; the fainter
parts, having been sufficiently bitten, are stopped up, while the men-
struum again exerts itself on the next stronger shades; and these are
again defended by the varnish, while the still darker shadows are cor-
roded.
The method of regulating the action of the aqua-fortis on the plate is
by covering it sparingly with a fine powder of a resinous nature, which,
when warmed, will adhere to the copper, and defend it, in all the points
of contact, from the corrosion of the spirit, while the minute spaces be-
tween those points will be excavated: therefore, most resinous bodies
will answer this intention in a greater or less degree. Common rosin,
finely pulverized, was first used, and sometimes (where the work was
'not very delicate) with tolerable good effect; but this substance, if too
finely powdered, is apt, when warmed, to form a coat or superficies to the
plate, and thereby resists the menstruum altogether; wherefore sal am-
moniec, mingled with it, was found to preserve interstices; but this
mixture did not fully answer the intention.

The copper-plate must first have a common etching ground laid upon
it, and the outlines of the design etched thereon, and bitten with the
aqua-fortis, as directed in the operation of etching. The ground must
then be softened with a little grease, (the plate being gently warmed if
necessary) and wiped with a linen rag, suffering as much grease to re-
main on the plate as to take off the glare of the copper. You must now
carefully and sparingly sift a layer of powdered rosin and asphaltum upon
the surface of the plate, which will sufficiently adhere to the copper by
reason of the grease left thereon; then strike the other side of the plate
pretty briskly against the edge of the table or desk, which will dis-
charge from it all the loose and superfluous powder: next hold the back
of the plate, by means of a hand-vice, over a chafing-dish of charcoal,
till it become so warm, that it cannot be held long against the back of
the hand, without exciting pain: the powder will now adhere firmly
to the copper, and will not unite together, if the plate be not too hot.
When the plate is cold, with a hair-pencil dipped in Venetian varnish,
mixed with lamp black, cover all those parts of the piece which are to
be left perfectly white, or where there is no shade. Raise a border
of wax round the plate; and having reduced the aqua-fortis to a
proper state, by diluting it with vinegar or water, pour it on the plate,
and let it remain there for about five minutes, which will be sufficient to
produce the first or lightest tint. The spirit must then be poured off,
the plate washed in fair water, and set on its edge to dry. With the
varnish now stop up all the lightest shades, and pour on the aqua-fortis
as before for the second tint; and after letting it stand about five
minutes, pour it off, and again wash and dry the plate; proceed in the
same manner for the third tint; and also for the following, if more than
three be required, until the darkest shade be produced. Sometimes a


I

ENGRAVING.
439
1
bold open ground is required in part of the work; when this is the case,
another ground must be laid on that part of the plate, by sifting coarse
powder, or even rosin alone thereon, and the plate must be heated to a
greater degree: all the other parts of the plate are then to be stopped
up with the varnish, and the aqua-fortis suffered to act only where the
coarse ground is laid, and where, consequently, the shade will be much
bolder. The sky and distant objects in landscape, which require to be
faint, are also performed by a second operation; but with this differ-
ence, that they require finer powder, and to be laid on with a finer sieve';
the plate must likewise be less heated than in the general method.
When any parts require to be higher finished, as is sometimes the case
in the trees, and in objects in the fore-ground, the plate must be entire-
ly cleansed from grease by rubbing it with some crumb of bread: a
common etching ground is then laid thereon, and the work finished with
the needle or point, and bit in with aqua-fortis; and sometimes finished
with the dry point only, in which manner it may be rendered as neat as
possible.

2
B
The Preparation of the Powder for the Aqua-tinta Ground.
Take of asphaltum and fine transparent rosin equal parts, and pound
them separately. Through a muslin sieve sift upon a sheet of paper a
thin stratum of the asphaltum, upon which sift a similar layer of the
rosin; upon this again another layer of asphaltum, and so on alternately,
continuing these alternate layers till both of the powders are exhausted:
then pass the mixture through the same sieve once or twice, or till both
appear to be sufficiently incorporated, when it is ready for use. Instead
of this powder some use gum sandarack only. But when the above
mixture is used it is absolutely necessary that the rosin and asphaltum
be sufficiently mixed together, otherwise they will not act equally on the
copper, and by that means greatly deceive the artist.
The following is the method recommended by M. Le Prince, which
certainly deserves attention, not only for the novelty of the invention,
but also for its success in many instances; and however it may have been
superseded by other discoveries, it has, and still affords, a useful hint to
the artist. Reduce, a sufficient quantity of gum juniper (though gum
copal is now preferred) to a fine powder, and divide it by sifting it
through three or four sieves, of different fineness, into as many respec-
tive parcels. The finest powder serves for the lightest shades; as very
distant objects, the sky, &c.; the next coarser powder for the middle
tints; and the coarsest for fore-grounds and the deepest shadows. The
outlines being etched on the plate, in the common manner of etching,
and the copper greased as directed in the foregoing method, sift on the
plate a layer of the finest powder; shake off the superfluous part by
striking it against the table, and heat the plate gently, till the gum
changes colour, when it will be sufficiently melted to adhere to the cop-
per, then stop up all the lights or places where there is to be no work
when cold, raise a border of wax round the plate, and pour on the aqua-
fortis for the first tint, which is to remain on the plate about five minutes,
and then poured off, and the plate warmed and perfectly cleaned from
this first ground, by adding a little oil if necessary: the lighter tints be-
ing finished, they must also be stopped up, as well as the blank parts of


440
· ENGRAVING.
the copper, and the second powder sifted on the plate, the copper heat-
ed, and the aqua-fortis poured on as before, to produce the second tint.
The coarser powder, or rather grains of gum, must also be heated in the
same manner.
The difference of the powders creates a difference of tints; for the
coarser and larger the grains are, the more firmly they adhere to the cop-
per, and their contact with the plate occupies a larger surface; they also
permit more copper to be corroded away from around them by the aqua-
fortis: but if a ground were not previously laid by the finer powders,
the coarse powder would produce very staring whites, or if the gross
powder were misplaced, it would greatly disfigure the piece. The gross
powder also requires the plate to be more heated. A larger grain of
white may be produced by melting the finer powder more than usual,
which makes the particles spread, and occupy a larger surface. Some-
times a finer tint may be laid over a coarser one with very good effect,
as well as a coarse one over a finer. In this method of working, any
part of the plate may, at any future time, be rebitten, if required, pro-
vided the other parts are securely stopped up; which is very useful to
the learner, as he may improve and rebite his piece to his mind. The
principal requisite is the skilful management of the varnish, which re-
quires some patience and experience to enable the artist to stop up the
lights and lighter shades in their proper places; as in a good piece the
different shades are very often so much mingled and blended together. Le
Prince's method is, however, certain in its operation, and generally re-
wards the student who pursues it diligently.
+
1
There are several other methods of working in aqua-tinta, devised by
ingenious engravers, which do more credit to their invention, than be-
stow utility to art: the main process of two of the principal shall be given
as they include the general principles of a numerous train.
cop-
One method is, by applying an acid capable of corroding the copper,
without using aqua fortis: the operation is briefly this:-Mix a quantity
of ground sulphur with oil, and lay the mixture on the copper with a
pencil in the manner of painting, and in those parts of the design you
wish to corrode: then, by placing the plate over a gentle fire, the vitrio-
lic acid contained in the sulphur is set at liberty, and corrodes the
per: the plate is then washed clean, and again painted with the mix-
ture in all the parts, except the lights and faintest tints, which latter
have already been corroded: it is again exposed to the fire, and made
somewhat hotter than before, which will answer the same intention as a
second biting with aqua-fortis. The plate being cold and washed, it is
to undergo another operation for the deepest shades, being made some-
what hotter than the last time, and exposed to the fire a longer time.
In this mode of procedure, as it is observed that the acid in the sulphur
acts on the copper more or less, in proportion to the heat, and the time
it is suffered to continue on the plate, it must consequently remain longer
on the copper, and the plate heated to a greater degree for the second
tint than for the first; and still more so for the third than for the second,
This practice of etching has not been much followed, on account of the
inconvenience attending the operation, from the nauseous fumes of the
heated sulphur; otherwise there is little doubt but this manner might
have been rendered very successful for light subjects, and even for others,
assisted with some darker shades for fore-grounds.
The other manner, invented by the ingenious in this art, is to satu-
ENGRAVING.
441
rate a quantity of aqua-fortis, of a proper strength, with small particles
of silver: this mixture is then to be poured on the copper, the outlines
of the design being drawn thereon, and all the lights stopped up with
the varnish, when the aqua-fortis will quit the silver it contains, in order
to act upon the copper, to which it is more disposed; and the silver
will precipitate in the form of a subtile powder, and defend the plate
in the points of contact from the action of the menstruum, while the
other parts will be excavated. The first tints are then to be stopped up,
and a fresh quantity of the solution poured on for the second tint. The
process is to be repeated for the third tint, and so on as often as is re-
quisite. This manner is applicable only to very slender parts and faint
pieces: it is used sometimes to add a colour to places which are not of
sufficient importance to require a fresh ground, or where much trouble
is not necessary; particularly in the leaves of trees, light flying clouds,
&c.:
Aqua-tinta is so expeditious a method of etching, that it will produce
on a large plate, in one week, the effect of two months labour at some
kinds of engraving. It is generally objected, that the work is but shal-
low on the copper; however, when skilfully executed, and carefully
treated by the printer, it is sufficiently lasting. It possesses a very even
and uniform colour; smooth, and free from blemishes; and has a very
good effect in landscape in particular, of every kind; applies very well
to architecture, and back-grounds in general: in the latter form, viz.
in back-grounds and distant objects, it has been successfully introduced
by several good engravers in their large pieces, where the whole work
was intended to pass for an engraving.
The foregoing is a general account of the process of engraving in
aqua-tinta, in which few circumstances are omitted that can be express-
ed on paper: but after all, no printed directions whatever can enable a
person to practise it perfectly, without witnessing the operation. Its suc-
cess depends on so many niceties, and requires attention to so many par-
ticulars, apparently unimportant, that the student must not be discou-
raged if he does not at first succeed. It is a species of engraving simple
and expeditious, when every thing goes on well: but it is very precari-
ous, and errors in it are rectified very difficultly. It seems to be adapt-
ed chiefly for imitation of sketches, washed drawings, and slight subjects:
but does not at all appear to be calculated to produce prints from finish-
ed pictures; as it is not susceptible of that accuracy in proportioning the
tints which is necessary. Nor does it seem adapted to book-plates, as a
large number of impressions cannot be taken from it. Aqua-tinta ought
not, therefore, to be placed in competition with the other modes of en-
graving: but when confined to certain subjects, it must be allowed to
be extremely useful, being expeditious and easily attainable. This last
circumstance is, however, often a source of mischief, as it occasions the
production of a multitude of prints, calculated only for vitiating the
public taste.
↓
*
ENGRAVING ON WOOD.
Engraving on wood is a process exactly the reverse of engraving on
copper. In the latter, the strokes to be printed are sunk or cut into the
metal, and the impressions are taken off by means of the rolling-préss
but in the former kind of engraving all the wood is cut away, excepting
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ENGRAVING.
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those parts on which are drawn the lines to be printed. These parts
stand up or project, like the letters on printing types; and the mode of
printing is the same with that used in letter-press printing. The wood
used in this species of engraving is commonly box very smoothly planed.
The design is drawn upon the wood itself with black-lead; and all the
wood is neatly cut away with gravers and other tools, excepting where
the lines are drawn. In some cases the design is drawn upon paper,
and pasted on the wood, which is then cut away as before. On certain
occasions, two, three, or more pieces of wood, or blocks, have been used
in the same print; the first block containing merely the outline of the
subject upon it, the second the darker shadows, and the third the sha-
dows terminating on the lights. These several blocks were employed in
succession, each print receiving an impression from all the three: a
mode of engraving intended to imitate the drawings of the old painters.
The art of engraving on wood is in appearance extremely simple: like
every thing else, however, it is extremely difficult to execute well; ac-
cordingly, few artists have hitherto excelled in it. By the Bewicks,
however, of Newcastle-upon-Tyne, and a few other artists, engraving on
wood has, of late years, been brought to very great perfection. This
art cannot be made to supply the place of engraving on copper in every
case; it is, nevertheless, very useful for geometrical and some other
figures for books; because from the wooden blocks moulds may be
formed, in order to cast metallic plates containing the figures, to be in-
troduced among the letter-press, and printed off along with the types
of the page.
моно
Having mentioned the rolling-press employed in taking impressions
from engraved plates of copper, the following general description of an
implement of great value, but only to be found in London, Edinburgh,
and a few other places, may be of use to many readers who have not had
opportunities of seeing its construction and operation.
The rolling-press consists of two parts, the body and the carriage.
The body is formed of two cheeks, commonly about four feet and a-half
high, a foot thick, and two feet and a half asunder, connected together at
each end by strong cross-pieces. The cheeks stand perpendicularly on a
wooden foot, lying horizontally and sustaining the whole press. From
the foot likewise rise four other perpendicular pieces, joined by hori-
zontal cross
ss-pieces, which may be considered as the carriage of the press,
because they support a smooth even plank, about four feet and a half
long, two feet and a half broad, and an inch and a half thick; on which
the engraved plate is to be laid. Into the cheeks go two wooden cylin-
ders or rollers, (from which the press has its name) about six inches
in diameter, having their ends reduced to a diameter of two inches,
and called trunnions, which turn round in the cheeks, between two
semicircular pieces of wood, lined with polished iron, to facilitate the
turning of the rollers. The space in these semicircular pieces or half-
moons left vacant by the trunnion, is filled with paste-board, paper, &c.
that they may be raised or lowered at will; so as only to leave the
space between them required for the passage of the plank charged with
the copper-plate, the paper to receive the impression, and the blanketɛ.
Lastly, to one of the trunnions of the upper roller is fastened a cross
consisting of two levers or pieces of wood traversing one another at
right angles. The arms of this cross serve in lieu of the handle of the
common printing press, giving motion to the upper roller, between


:
DRAWING OF MAPS.
448
which and the under is introduced the plank with the plate, &c; and by
this motion both rollers are made to turn in contrary directions, and
the plank is protruded or drawn through between them, and the plate
is consequently pressed with equal force in every part.
In printing from copper-plates the usual practice is this. The work-
man takes a small quantity of the ink on a rubber made of linen rags,
strongly bound together, and with it smears the whole engraved face of
the plate, lying on a grate over a charcoal fire. The plate being suffi-
ciently inked he wipes it first with a rag, then with the palm of the
left hand, and then with the right; and to dry the hand and forward
the wiping, he rubs it from time to time in fine whitening: and in this
consists the address of the workman, that he wipe the plate perfectly
clean on the smooth surface, without taking out the ink that has filled
the lines of the engraving. The plate now prepared is laid on the
plank of the press; over it is placed the paper, first moistened, to re-
ceive the impression, and over the paper are laid two or three folds of
elastic flannel. Things being thus disposed, the arms of the cross are
pulled, and by this motion the plank with its furniture is forced through
between the rollers, which pinching very strongly but equably upon
the elastic flannel or blanket, press the moistened paper into even the
finest strokes of the engraving, whence it absorbs the ink, and receives
a complete impression of the plate.

DRAWING OF MAPS AND CHARTS.
This earth being of a globular or spherical figure, it can be properly
represented by a similar globe or sphere alone. It is not, however, a
perfect sphere, in which every point of the surface is equally distant from
the centre. Suppose we form a perfect sphere of clay of such a consis-
tency that, when made to revolve with rapidity round a rod or axis pass-
ing through its centre, its parts may acquire a gradual motion among
themselves. If this rapid revolution be continued for some time, and
the globe be then examined, it will be found to have altered its shape;
the clay will be found to have withdrawn from the parts about the ends
of the axis, and to have accumulated towards the middle of the surface
of the globe, in such a way, that another rod passing through this mid-
dle and the centre will be sensibly longer than the first rod, on which
the globe revolved. Something of this kind seems to have happened to
our earth when first produced, and before the various substances of
which it is compacted had assumed the solid unchanging state in which
they now exist. At any rate, it is now ascertained by the most accurate
scientific measurements, in confirmation of the philosophic theory of
Newton, that the earth is not a perfect globe, but a spheroid, having the
diameter from N. to S. very sensibly shorter than that from E. to W.
According to the latest observations, the axis on which the earth turns
is about 35 miles, (or agreeably to some measurements only 27 miles)
shorter than a diameter passing from E to W through her centre; so
that her form bears a distant resemblance to an orange, flattened on the
N and S, but swelling out in the middle between those points.
on a figure of the earth, even 20 feet in diameter, this departure from
the true globe would amount to only one inch, a difference totally im-
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DRAWING OF MATS.
perceptible to the eye, it may be safely disregarded in all maps or charts,
however large the scale on which they may be drawn.
1
The earth being thus spherical, it is evident that no part of its sur-
face can be strictly a plane. The tangent of a circle touches the cir-
cumference but in one point alone, and in all other points falls without
it. Still, in small portions of the earth's surface, as an estate, a parish,
or even a county, the figure of the ground will differ so little from a
horizontal plane as not to be sensibly distinguished from it. If the dif-
ference between the position of a tangent to the carth's circumference,
(that is of a true level line) and the spherical surface itself be calculated,
it will be found, that even upon a distance of 20 miles, the difference
between them is only 264 feet, or 88 yards, a matter of no importance
whatever in maps or charts of that extent, which may therefore be laid
down with sufficient accuracy on paper, or any other plane surface.
When, however, it is required to make maps of the world, each con-
taining one half of the globe, the one, for instance, comprehending
Europe, Asia and Africa, and the other N. and S. America, it is necessary
to give a representation corresponding to the appearance of the real globe
of the earth, such as it would be perceived by an observer placed at a
great distance above the ground. No observer, it is true, at whatever
distance he may be placed, and however powerful may be his
organs of sight, can ever view the entire half of the globe of the
earth; in maps, however, this may be, and is taken for granted, and
the several countries, seas, &c. are laid down conformably to certain geo-
metrical principles, arising from the supposed distance and position of
the observer.
These representations are called projections of the sphere, being of dif-
ferent sorts, according to the mode of projecting them, viz. 1st, the or-
thographic, or direct representation, (so called from an equivalent Greek
term) in which the surface of one complete half of the earth is shewn,
as if it were viewed by an observer placed at an indefinitely great dis-
tance, from whose eye the rays of sight proceed in parallel lines, each
falling perpendicularly on the point of the globe to which it is directed.
2d, The stereographic projection, founded on the idea of representing a
solid body on a plane surface, assumes the eye to be placed on the sur-
face of the globe, supposed to be transparent as a ball of crystal, and
looking through it to every point of the opposite surface. 3d, The glo-
bular projection is an attempt to combine the two former methods, by
choosing a point of view or station for the observer, neither on the sur-
face of the globe, nor at an indefinitely great distance from it. This
2009
point of view is supposed to be removed above the surface of the earth to
a distance equal to the sine of 45 degrees, or 2800 English miles, mea-
sured on a scale of which the radius is that of the earth itself. In the
orthographic projection, the parts of the surface occupying the middle
of the hemisphere are shewn with tolerable accuracy, while those to-
wards the circumference are more and more contracted beyond their due
bounds as they approach to the margin. On the other hand, in the
stereographic scheme, the parts in the centre are shewn more contract-
ed, and those towards the margin more extended than they ought to
be. In the globular projection, therefore, in which both these defects are
in a great measure avoided, an approximation to a just representation
tolerably correct is obtained, and now commonly adopted in spherical
maps of the world. The representation (fig. 1. plate 1. of maps) of a sphere
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DRAWING OF MAPS.
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on this construction is drawn in this way. Upon C, the centre of the
earth, describe a circle representing a meridian passing through the N.
and S. poles, (N. and S.) and the E. and W. points (E. and W.) In this
case NCS will be the axis of the globe, and WE the equinoctial. Divide
the circumference of the circle into 360 degrees, or 4 quadrants of 90º.
each, as in the points 3 and 6, for 30° and 60° from the equinoctial on
each side to 90° at the poles. Then divide the radii CN, CE, CS, and
CW, each into as many equal parts in the points 3, 6, &c. Then draw
the arches 6, 6, 6, and 3, 3, 3, &c. to represent the parallels of latitude;
and in the same way draw the arches N 3 S, N 6 S, &c. to represent
the meridians or circles of longitude. By this process, the area of the
circle. NESW will be divided into spaces of latitude and longitude, as
nearly of equal extent and capacity as can be desired. Consequently the
parts of the earth drawn on a globular map of this kind will appear very
nearly in their just relative proportions, an advantage not to be obtained
by any other projection, constructed on the geometrical principles of -
perspective.
Such is the general nature of globular projection for maps of the
whole earth: but for small portions of her surface other maps are used,
in which the surface is taken to be not spherical, but a plane lying all in
the same horizontal line. These are of two kinds, plane maps or charts,
and those constructed on Mercator's principles. Were the surface of the
earth a horizontal plane, it would, by the use of any common scale of
equal parts, be an easy operation to lay down on paper a figure, bearing
to the original tract of land the same proportion that a degree, a mile, a
yard, &c. on the adopted scale, bears to the corresponding measures on
the ground.
Plane maps or charts are constructed in this way. A line drawn
along the bottom of the paper is divided into a number of equal parts,
corresponding to the degrees, miles, &c. of longitude, intended to be
brought within the map. On each end of this line are erected perpen-
diculars, on which are set off parts equal to those of the bottom line, to
point out the degrees, miles, &c. of latitude to be comprehended in the
draught. The same being done in the line joining the perpendiculars at the
top, lines are drawn from right to left, and from top to bottom, through
each of the marginal divisions, by which the paper is thrown into a
number of square spaces, exhibiting the degrees, &c. of longitude and
latitude, as every where of precisely the same extent.
It will be evi-
dent, however, that the meridians on the globe of the earth, diverging
in all directions from the poles to the equinoctial line, the spaces between
them must be very different, in proportion to the distance of any parti-
cular point from that line; or in other words, that a degree of longitude
is at the greatest at the equinoctial, and must be gradually shortened
according to the increase of the latitude of the place of observation.
This diminution follows this proportion; as radius to the sine of the
complement of the latitude of the place, so are the minutes or miles in a
degree of longitude on the equator to those in a degree of the parallel of
the given latitude. Thus, for example, to find the length of a degree of
longitude on the parallel of London in N. lat. 51° 31', we add together
the sine of 38° 29′ (the complement of that latitude) and the logarithm of
60, the minutes geographical in a degree of the equator; from which
sum subtracting the logarithm of ràdius, we obtain the logarithm of 37
geographic miles, equal to 43, English miles, contained in a degree of

416
DRAWING OF MAPS.
longitude at London, and at every other place of the same latitude N.
or Š. In the same way we find a degree of longitude, on the parallel
of Edinburgh, in N. latitude 55° 57', to contain only 333 geographic,
or 38 English miles. The most southerly point of Britain is the
Lizard in Cornwall, in N. latitude 49° 58', where a degree of longitude
contains 383 geographic or 44 English miles. The most northernly
point is Dunnet-head in Caithness, in N. latitude 58° 40', where a de-
gree of longitude contains only 31 geographic, or 363 English miles.
Hence it appears that, by the convergence of the meridians, on the ex-
tent of Britain, of 8° 42′ from S. to N. the difference between the ex-
tent of a degree of longitude from E. to W. at the southern, and nor-
thern extremities of the island, is 7 geographic, or 8 English miles,
inducing a very sensible and important departure from parallelism in
the direction of the meridians.

From those facts it must follow that plane maps and charts, particu-
larly of tracts at a distance from the equator, on which the degrees and
minutes of latitude and longitude are all made equal, must be extremely
inaccurate, and consequently must convey very incorrect notions of the
relative positions, bearings, and 'distances of places. To remedy these
defects inherent in the construction of plane maps and charts, various
attempts have been made: but that which possesses the greatest ad-
vantages, and is now universally adopted, was first made known to the
world by Gerard Mercator, a native of the Netherlands. In 1556, he
produced a chart in which the parallelism of the meridians was pre-
served; but the parallels of latitude were placed at intervals increasing
in magnitude as they receded from the equator towards either pole.
By this process, the length of a degree of latitude on the map was in-
tended to preserve the same proportion to that of a degree of longitude
on the map, the latter being always of the same extent, as really hap-
pens on the earth where the former is always of the same extent. This
notion was not however new; for it was hinted at by Ptolemy the
great Egyptian astronomer and geographer, in the beginning of the
second century of our era. The perfection of the scheme was neverthe-
less reserved for Edward Wright of Caius-college Cambridge, who in
1599, published a work intituled Correction of certain Errors in Naviga-
tion, containing rules and computations for constructing maps of this
sort upon true geometrical principles; of which Mercator himself had,
it appeared, been in a great degree ignorant. Wright's book contained
tables showing the magnitude of each degree and minute of latitude,
in equal divisions called meridional parts, now to be found in all treatises
on navigation, in which they are of the highest use, and according to
which maps and charts are now constructed. These parts are in fact
minutes of a degree on the equinoctial. By the convergency of the
meridians towards the pole, it was before observed that a degree of
longitude at London, or on the parallel of latitude 51° 31', contained
only 37.33 geographic miles: in the same way we find a degree of lon-
gitude on the parallel of 50°. lat. to contain 38.57 miles, and one in
lat. 51º to contain 37.76 miles. Now if we calculate this case of pro-
portion; as 38.57 the miles in a degree of longitude at latitude 50° to
60 the miles in a degree at the equator, so the same 60 to a 4th num-
ber 93.34, miles or meridional corresponding to latitude 50°. In the
same way we find 95.34 meridional parts corresponding to latitude 51;
and by taking half the sum of these two quantities we obtain 94.34

DRAWING OF MAPS.
447
#
minutes of the equator for the space to be laid down on the map or
chart between the parallels of latitude 50° and 51°; in the tables of
meridional parts this space is given, in round numbers, at 95.
•
The figure 2. plate 1. is a specimen of a map and a sea-chart combined
together, containing the eastern provinces of England, as far north as
York, constructed on Mercator's, or more properly Wright's principles
of projection. The draught being intended to comprehend from the
50th to the 54th degree of N. latitude, and from the second degree of
longitude E. from our first meridian, that of Greenwich observatory,
to the second degree of W. longitude, it will contain four degrees in both
senses: but in consequence of what has just been said, the latitude will
occupy much more space on the paper than the longitude. The
draught is constructed in this manner. At the bottom of the paper
draw a right line to represent the parallel of the 50th degree of N.
latitude. On the middle of it erect a perpendicular for the first meri-
dian, distinguished by the cypher O; and on each side of it set off 2
equal parts of the scale adapted to the size of the draught, numbered
10 and 2º E. long. and 1° and 29 W. long. through which points
draw lines parallel to the first meridian to represent the meridians pass-
ing over those degrees of longitude. Now by calculation as before
shown, or from printed tables of meridional parts, find the differ-
ence between those corresponding to latitude 50°, and 51º, which was
found to be 94.34, or in round numbers 95 minutes of an equatorial
degree. Taking this quantity from the same scale with the degrees of
longitude, set it up on the two extreme meridians 2º E. and 2º W.
from latitude 50° to 51°, and draw the horizontal line for the parallel
of N. latitude 51º, as in the sketch. Again, with 191 minutes, the
difference between the meridional parts for latitude 50° and 52°, fix
points on the two extreme meridians, through which draw the parallel
of 52°; and in the same way those of 53 and 54 of N. latitude;
which last completes the draught, now divided by the cross meridians
and parallels into spaces representing the surface of a degree in latitude
and longitude. But as these spaces are too large for laying down places
or coasts with accuracy, the parallels at the top and the bottom are
subdivided into four equal parts, each consequently representing of a
degree, or fifteen minutes. The degrees of latitude are also subdivided
into four parts, not equally but by taking the difference between the
meridional parts corresponding to the several quarters of degrees. Thus
the difference between those for 50° and 50° 15′ is about 23;---50°
30' is nearly 24, and 50° 45′ is 24, which quantities set up together at
each end from 50° will give the divisions of the degree from 50 to 51º.
These divisions are merely marked on the margin of the map or chart,
it not being usual to draw any lines across the map except those pass-
ing through whole degrees. Double lines being drawn on the external
meridians and parallels, the small divisions are alternately shaded black,
to enable the eye the more readily to distinguish and reckon them.
*
The skeleton of the map or chart is now ready to receive the places,
rivers, coasts, &c. intended to be laid down in this way. The meri-
dian in the middle marked O being that of Greenwich observatory, its
place (distinguished by a small circle of which the centre is supposed
to be the true position of the observatory,) must be on that meridian.
But its latitude being 51° 28′ 40″, lay a ruler from the correspond-
ing points on the perpendicular margins of the map, and mark the

I

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448
DRAWING OF MAPS.`
1
spot where it crosses the first meridian, which will be the position of
the observatory. Again, the latitude and longitude of London being
computed from the centre of the dome of St. Paul's Church, in latitude
51° 30′ 49″, and longitude 5′ 47″ W. from Greenwich, the circle indi-
cating that position must be placed proportionally to the N. and W. of
Greenwich. In the same way, pencil lines drawn across the draught,
through latitude 51° 7′ 48″ and E. longitude, 1° 9′7″, will by their
intersection, show the position of the great tower of Dover castle. The
meridian of E. longitude 1 degree 44 minutes 22 seconds will, by the
intersection of the parallel of latitude 52° 36' 40", give the situation of
the spire of Yarmouth in Norfolk. The point where the meridian of
longitude W. 1° 6'′ 45″ crosses the parallel of latitude 53° 57′ 45″
indicates the place of the minster or cathedral church of York. In
this manner are all the other places, points of the land, &c. laid down,
as in the following list of names, of which the initials only are in-
serted in the draught, proceeding from the top to the bottom, and from
the left to the right. Y. York, H. Hull, (or correctly Kingston upon
the river Hull, to distinguish it from Kingston upon Thames, 14 miles
above London,) S. the Spurn Point on the N. of the mouth of the
Humber, L. Lincoln, D. Derby, B. Boston, L. Lynn, Y. Yarmouth,
N. Northampton, C. Cambridge, H. Harwich, O. Oxford, L. London,
G. Greenwich, F. the N. Foreland on the S. of the mouth of the
Thames, S. Salisbury, P..Portsmouth, W. the isle of Wight, B. Beachy-
head on the coast of Sussex, and D. Dover. These are all the places
in E. England: opposite to Dover is the N. W. corner of F. France,
containing C. Calais, B. Boulogne, and D. Dieppe. The courses of the
rivers, as that of the Thames, passing by Oxford, London, &c. to the
sea, and the line representing the sea-coast, are to be laid down from.a
careful measurement of the most correct maps and charts.
·
The characteristic difference between a map and a sea-chart is this,
that the map, although in common with the chart it exhibits the line
of the coast, is entirely appropriated to representations of the towns,
villages, seats, lakes, rivers, marshes, woods, heaths, hills, mountains,
and all other objects of note within its limits. The boundaries of the
several states, provinces, counties, parishes, &c. are also shown by lines
of dots or other marks; and for the more ready tracing of these boun-
daries a narrow line of colour is drawn along each side of them; the
same colour being employed for the whole of one particular district;
observing always, that for distinctness sake, the colours on the opposite
sides of a boundary should be as strongly contrasted as possible.
7
In all maps and charts, unless otherwise described, the top of the
paper the N. point, the bottom the S. the right hand the E. and the
left hand the W. In charts, however, this general indication is not
sufficient, because the accurate distribution of the horizon into the points
and parts of the compass is of the most essential use in the practice of
navigation. For this reason, a circle of the winds, or a figure of the ma-
riner's compass, is inserted in a convenient or central situation in the sea;
divided into the 32 points, each point into four quarters, and the whole
circumference into 360 degrees, &c. The lines of direction of the prin-
cipal points are continued from the centre of the compass over the wa-
ter only; but interrupted when they meet with the land. Of this com-
pass a sketch is given in the right hand upper corner of the draught,
shewing 16 bearings, the N. point distinguished by a cross.
It is cus-
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DRAWING OF MAPS.
i
449
1
tomary in maps, and even in sea-charts, to shade the coast line in the
engraving: but as the true position of even the most minute parts of
the shore is of the utmost importance to the mariner, all shading, whe-
ther in the engraving or by colours, had much better be laid aside, as
tending to render the outline of the land indistinct and uncertain. Va-
rious marks are employed in charts to indicate circumstances necessary
to be known by the seaman: thus an anchor complete indicates a road-
stead or proper place of anchorage, as in the Downs, at Spithead, &c.;
the setting of currents is pointed out by the head of an arrow; the hour
of high water by Roman capital letters, as on a dial-plate; rocks above
or under water, shoals, sand-banks, and other dangerous spots, by dots
and crosses differently arranged. The variation of the magnetic needle
of the compass from the true N. and S. line must also be particularly
noted at the place where observations have been made, mentioning also
the date of such observations. The usual scale for a sea-chart consists
of marine leagues, each containing 3 nautical miles, equal to so many"
minutes of a degree of a great circle, 60 in one degree. These miles are
not, however, to be confounded with the various spaces denominated
miles in different parts of the world. The English statute mile contains
1760 yards, or 5280 feet; consequently 69 on an average, are equal to
60 nautical or geographical miles: the Scotch statute mile, containing
1920 ells, or 5956 English feet; 61 are very nearly equal to a degree.
On the other hand, the customary road-mile in various parts of Italy,
used`also in some maps and charts made in that country, contains only
4875 English feet; consequently 60 nautical minutes or miles, equal to
1 degree of a great circle, will comprehend 75 of such Italian miles, cor-
responding with the ancient Roman mile, which was composed of 1000
paces, or double steps of an ordinary man walking. Each step was cal-
culated at 24 Roman feet: consequently the pace or passus contained 5
of the same feet; and the Roman mile contained 5000 feet.
It was
from the Latin words mille passus, or in the plural millia passuum, one
or more thousand paces, that different nations formed the name mile
but the Roman foot being a little shorter than the standard English foot,
5000 feet Roman are only 4875 feet English. The customary mile of
Germany contains something more than 44 miles English; consequently
about 15 are equal to 1 degree. The customary travelling league in
Spain, or an hour's journey at the step of the mule, contains nearly 4
miles English: consequently 17 of such leagues, or hours, are about
equal to 1 degree.
1
In stating the relation between French linear measures and geogra-
phical and English, it will be necessasy to enter into some details. For
many years past it has been a favourite object, first with the Academy
of Sciences, and afterwards with the Institute of Paris, under the sanction
of the government, to obtain a correct notion of the real form and magni-
tude of our globe. Were the earth a perfect sphere, (which is by no means
the case with either the earth or any other body of our system) or were
it a solid of any other regular form, by measuring a portion of its sur
face, we could easily determine the magnitude and the form of the whole.
Let an observer measure the meridional altitude of the north pole star,
as seen from the royal observatory of Greenwich, to be 51° 28′ 40:
let him proceed due north until the altitude be increased one degree, or
to 52° 28′ 40″. Then let the space on the surface of the ground, be-
tween the two places of observation, be accurately measured; all' proper
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corrections being applied for the inequalities of the ground, the unequal
attraction of the solid parts of the earth, the variation of the refraction
of light, the excentricity of the pole star, &c. The true distance on the
surface of the earth thus found will correspond to one degree of a great
circle in the heavens, and will therefore bear to the whole circumference
of the earth the same proportion that one degree bears to the whole cir-
cle of 360 degrees: the distance measured on the ground, therefore, be-
ing multiplied by 360, will give the whole circumference of the earth.
By a repetition of such operations, especially on a considerable extent on
the meridian, the form and magnitude of the earth may be ascertained
with great accuracy. An attempt of this sort was long ago made in this
country by Norwood, on the distance from London to York, two places
differing in latitude 2° 26' 56", and in longitude 1° 0' 58". But his
instruments, and his method of computing the distance, were too imper-
fect to render his operations of any value. Besides other attempts on
more rational principles, the French government sent one company of
men, eminent for science and skill, to measure a degree of the meridian
in the north of Sweden, at the arctic circle, in lat. 664, and another, in
conjunction with Spanish geometricians, on a similar business, under the
equinoctial line, in the vicinity of Quito, in South America. The most
important operations, however, performed for determining the form of
the earth, were begun in France in 1740, where a meridian was care-
fully traced and measured, from Dunkirk in the north, in lat. 51° 2′
10", to Perpignan, at the east end of the Pyrenees, in lat. 42° 51' 53",
being a stretch of 8° 10′ 17″, or th. part of the whole circumference
of the globe. This meridian was lately extended southwards to Barce-
lona in Spain, in lat. 41° 23' 8"; and steps were taken to carry it down
the east coast of that country as far as the parallel of Iviza, in lat. 39°;
making in all a meridional space of 12 degrees, or th part of the earth's
circumference. Proceeding upon this measurement, performed by the...
most able geometers of France, and with the best instruments that
France and England could furnish, one-fourth of the circumference would
be 5130740 French toises, and consequently one degree would contain
very nearly 570081 toises. The quadrant was divided into 10 millions of
equal parts, each being, of course, a little more than half a toise, or 3 feet
0 inches 11 lines French, corresponding to 39.5 inches English
These parts being destined to serve as the standard of all measurement
in France, linear, superficial, and solid, were termed metres, from the
Greek verb to measure. According to this proportion, a degree of a
great circle, passing through the poles of the earth, should contain
69.0433 English statute miles, or 69 miles 0 furlongs 76 yards and 7
inches; a space sensibly less than that formerly estimated, which, how-
ever, has been gradually diminished by geographers from 693 miles to
691, 69, &c.
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"The length of a pendulum vibrating in a certain given time," says
the celebrated astronomer La Place, in his Treatise on the System of the
World," and that of a meridian of the earth, are the two principal stand-si
ards that nature has afforded us to fix the unit of linear measures,
The first method, which is of easy execution, has the inconvenience of
making the measure of length depend on two elements unconnected
with it and with each other, namely, gravitation and time. The second.
method it was therefore resolved to adopt, which is also of great anti-
quity. It is, besides, so natural for man to refer measures of distance on
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DRAWING OF MAPS.
451
2
the globe he inhabits to the dimensions of that globe itself; in order that,
in moving from one place to another, he may form some judgment of
the relation between the space moved over and the entire circumference
of the globe.
This second method has also this advantage, that mea-
sures at sea may be made to correspond with those in the heavens. The
navigator has constant occasion to compare the distance he sails with the
relative are of the heavens, formed by his change of place: to establish
a perfect uniformity between these spaces is therefore of the highest im-
portance to the mariner, the geographer, and the astronomer." On this
subject it may be observed, that it is of little consequence from what ori-
ginal the unit or standard is derived,, provided we can with ease and ac-
curacy recur to that original. For whether the standard were at first
adjusted according to the supposed circumference of the earth, or to the
length of the foot, the arm, &c. of some distinguished personage of an-
tiquity or fable, the facility of comparing other measures with it is the
'game.
¿
It is allowed that the pendulum affords the readiest mode of recover-
ing the standard if lost; and it might, perhaps, have been as proper for
the geometers of France to have fixed on one so simple and accessible as
the pendulum, as to seek for an imaginary perfection in copying from a
more magnificent original, such as the circumference of the earth. It is,
however, to be observed, that the correct determination of the length of
a pendulum vibrating in a given time, has always been found an opera-
tion of extreme difficulty: so much so, indeed, that we can never depend
on any measurement of it that shall be exempt from an error of one ten-
thousandth part of the whole length.
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It was formerly stated (mechanics, pages 8 and 22) that, on account of
the earth's not being a perfect sphere, the two poles are nearer to the
centre than any points at the equator, or any where between the poles
and that line. In consequence of this variation of distance, a body will
be more powerfully acted upon by central attraction or gravity at the
poles, than if it were at a distance from them: hence, a pendulum of a
determinate length will perform its vibrations in less time at the poles,
than if it were placed at the equinoctial, or at any intermediate point. From
a series of most accurate experiments, conducted by the eminent con-
structor of time-pieces, George Graham, the length of a pendulum vibrat-
ing seconds, that is 60 times in a uninute, in London, was found to be
89.13 inches, and not 39.2, as is commonly stated. This measurement
is nearly a mean between the length deduced from Borda's experiments
in Paris, and Whitehurst's, with Hatton's apparatus, in London, as cor-
rected by Nicholson. According to these experiments, the fall of a heavy
body, in the first second of motion, appeared to be 16 feet 1 inch, and
one-tenth instead of 16 feet, or 16 feet and 1 inch, as usually sup-
posed... trap vajilla
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Prior to the revolution, the linear distances used in France were the
short league, containing 2090 toises of 6 French feet, equal to 2.53 Eng
dish miles, the mean or middle league of 2450 toises, equal to 3 Eng-
lish miles wanting 58 yards and the great league of 2853 toises, equal
to 8.454 English miles. This last league is that employed at sea, cor-
responding to our nautical league, (of 3 nautical miles) of which 20 are
a degree; thus containing 57060 toises,, or only 52 toises more than the
degree resulting from the measurements already mentioned, made in
France Whenever themfore, on French maps or charts, marine or
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452
DRAWING OF MAPS.
nautical, leagues or miles are mentioned, they are to be understood as
precisely equal to our nautical or geographical leagues or miles; each
league containing, as above, 3.454, or nearly 34 English miles, and being
the 20th part of a degree. On the post-roads of France, distances are
reckoned by postes, each supposed to contain 2 leagues. According to
an accurate measurement by an odometer, or way-wiser, attached to an
English travelling carriage, of various roads in the north and the mid-
dle of France, extending in all to 484 leagues, or 242 postes, the whole
distances amounted just to 1200 English miles: so that on an average
the poste contained only 4.96 English miles. Travellers in those parts
of France, therefore, err egregiously in computing the league at 3 miles
and the poste at 6, while, in fact, the league is only 2 miles, and the
poste 5 miles at the most. In the districts of the south of France, how-
ever, along the Mediterranean, as in Languedoc and Provence, a league
much longer than that now mentioned has been in use from a very re-
mote period. Conformably to this practice, a space of 172 leagues, or
86 postes, was found to measure 504 English miles; giving, on an aver-
age, 2.93, or nearly 3 English miles to the league, and 5.86, or nearly 6
miles to the poste.
In all sea-charts, whether projected on a plane or on Wright's sys-
tem, the meridians being all parallel, a line drawn obliquely across them
will form equal angles with the whole: this is evident from the nature
of parallel lines, explained in the Treatise on Geometry. Upon the globe
of the earth, however, on which the meridians are in no part parallel, but
meet at both extremities in the poles, a very different effect must be pro-
duced by right lines falling obliquely upon them. A ship at the equi-
noctial line sailing due N. would, were there no land or other obstacles,
arrive at the N. pole. After which, holding on in the same direction,
but under a contrary name, she would be said to run S. to the S. pole,
and again stand N. to the point of the equator from which she set out.
Again, if, from the same point of the equinoctial, she steer either due E. or
due W. the would, by holding on either course, circumnavigate the globe
on the equinoctial, and at last return to the point whence she departed.
In sailing, therefore, from any point on the surface of the globe, (and
not from the equinoctial only) on a course directed to either of the four
cardinal points N. E. S. or W. a ship would go completely round the
globe, and return infallibly to the place where she began her course.
But is only on these four directions that this would happen.
Let us
suppose a ship from a point on the equinoctial at the first meridian to
sail on a NE. course, or that lying equally distant between N. and E.
consequently forming an angle of 45° with the meridian. When the
ship arrives at the meridian of a point 1 degree of long, to the E. of the
point of departure, she will find her course no longer to form an angle
of 45° with it, but one sensibly larger. The ship's course must, there-
fore, be bent to the northward until she come to an angle of 45°, or point
to NE. Standing on in the same course till she gain the meridian of
another degree of E. long. she will there again find her course to require
another deflection to the northward, to form an angle of 459 with the
meridian now come to. In this manner were a ship to sail on a course
forming such an angle with the meridian, she would be obliged to
change her direction continually and gradually towards the N. by which
she would describe a spiral or screw line, constantly approaching the N
pole, but without the possibility of ever falling into it. What is here


LETTER-PRESS PRINTING..
458
said of a NE. course holds equally true of every other between due N.
or S. and due E. or W.; observing at the same time that the ship's
course must undergo a continual deflection from the direction on which
she set out, at very short intervals, in order to keep on the same point
of the compass. What is here stated, although strictly and geometrically
true, can seldom, if ever, be of importance in practical seamanship: charts,
therefore, representing such a winding spiral track of a ship, can never
be required to supersede the ordinary plane, or Mercator's charts. It is
here proper to warn the reader, that Mercator's charts and maps are
known by that name only in the northern parts of Europe: in France,
Spain, and other southern countries, they are called spherical charts and
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maps.

CHAP. VII.
LETTER-PRESS PRINTING.
LETTER-PRESS PRINTING has been for so many years and so extensive-
ly practised in many parts of Europe, particularly in this country, that it
has long ceased to excite either admiration or curiosity. The principles
of the operation are so obvious, and the execution so easy, that in re-
garding the whole process of making a book, from the formation of the
paper, the types, and the ink, the binding, &c. until it arrive at our
hands fit for perusal, we can discover nothing beyond the ordinary ap-
plication of manual labour, directed to objects which the most common
abilities may readily attain. This careless manner of considering the art
is the natural effect of the total absence of gratitude for the innumerable
benefits we receive from it: and yet, to no one branch of art are we
nearly so much indebted as to printing. To the discovery and propa-
gation of letter-press printing may most justly be attributed every im-
provement in religion and law, in agriculture and manufactures, in arts
and sciences, and indeed in every particular by which man is distin-
guished from the other animals, which has appeared in the world for
these last three hundred years. It will, in general, hold true, that
wherever the art of printing is the most esteemed and cultivated, there
the people have made the greatest progress in knowledge and freedom,
religious, political, and moral, and there the faculties of the human frame
have been called into the most laudable and beneficial exercise. Of
the general truth of this observation, a review of the several states of
the world will furnish abundant and satisfactory evidence.
The art of printing is comparatively modern; yet antiquaries are not
agreed as to the time when, the place where, and the person by whom,
it was first discovered or employed. All, however, seem to concur in
dating the invention toward the middle of the fifteenth century, about
1442 or 1444; and in pointing out the banks of the Rhine, in the lower
J
1
454
LETTER-PRESS PRINTING.
half of its course, as the scene of its first appearance. Haerlem in Hol-
land and Mentz in Germany, seem to have the best claims to the inven-
tion of printing; and, by a little discrimination, the claims of each place
may, perhaps, be equally valid.. Laurence Coster, who first produced
impressions by printing at Haerlem, appears to have employed only
wooden blocks on which were carved the contents of a whole page: but
the introduction (and a most important one it was) of moveable types, one
for each letter, seems to be due to the joint but later labours of John
Fust or Faustus, and Peter Schoeffer of Mentz. Printing was first exe-
cuted in England in 1474, in the almonry of Westminster abbey, bý John
Caxton, a London mercer, who had resided on the continent for many
years as the agent of the mercers' company. His first work here was
the Game at Chess; and from that time to 1491, when he died, Caxton
applied with such ardour to translating and printing, that, though
an old man, he published about fifty books, some of them works
of considerable size. It is true that a book was printed at Oxford by
Corselis, a foreigner, bearing for its date 1468: (mcccclxviii) but the
best judges of the subject agree in thinking, that by the accidental
omission of one x, the printing is antedated ten years, and that the true
date was 1478 (mcccclxxviii). There is no certainty of
no certainty of any establish-
ment of a printing press in Scotland before 1507, when Walter Chapman,
a merchant of Edinburgh, obtained a patent from James IV. for himself
and Andrew Myllar, to carry on the business of printing.
Although printing be but a modern invention, yet many of the an-
cients had approached so nearly towards it in various ways, that we
wonder how they should have missed it. This, however, is only what
happens with respect to many other discoveries, which, when once
brought to light, appear so obvious, that we are amazed at their so long
remaining unknown. Were we to rest contented (as seems to be the
wish and the purpose of many persons charged with the important office
of public instruction) with our present version of the sacred writ-
ings, the practice of printing might be traced back to a very early
period indeed. In the 23d verse of the 19th chapter of the book of
Job, that eminent personage is represented, in our common version,
as wishing in the fulness of his heart, that his vindication of himself
against the revilings of his friends, might be "printed in a book." As
this version was executed only about 150 years after the first appear-
ance of printing, it may surprise us that the incongruity of these terms,
even if they had seemed to be warranted by the original text, did not
-strike the learned translators. The whole passage is a singularly elo-
quent and affecting climax. "Oh that my words were now written
down!that they were recorded in the public register of the land
that they were engraved with a pen of iron on a tablet of lead-even on
the rock itself that will never decay!" But to come down to later
times. Cicero, who, during the horrible disorders in the Roman state,
consequent on the perfidious and most unmerited murder of Julius
Cæsar, met with the fate which usually attends disingenuousness, sel-
fishness, and want of resolution in similar circumstances;-Cicero ob-
serves in his writings, that the persons who, according to what is called
the Epicurean system of philosophy, ascribe the origin of the world to
the accidental concourse and arrangement of atoms or imperceptible par-
ticles of matter, might just as reasonably conclude that a great number
of forms of the letters of the alphabet, made of gold or any other mate-
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LETTER-PRESS PRINTING.
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rials, if jumbled and shaken together and then thrown out on the ground,
could by such an accidental distribution, compose the Annals of Ennius, or
any other literary production. In another passage Cicero speaks of imprint-
ing on wax the notes or marks of alphabetic characters. Quintilian also
afterwards mentions forms of the alphabetic characters, made of ivory,
put into the hands of children at school, in order to teach them to read.
Among the very interesting remains of antiquity discovered in the subter-
ranean town of Herculaneum, overflowed by the lava of Vesuvius,.
were
found some loves of bread, hardened to stone by the heat, with marks of
various kinds upon them, which could have been impressed in no other
way than as a London baker stamps his W. at present, to certify that is
contains the due weight of flour. Roman letters of a different sort were
also discovered in the same place cast in bronze, and twenty inches, in
height. These were fixed in the front of a building, to record its des-
tination, and perhaps the date of its erection and the name of the dedi-
cator. Such an inscription in such a place must have been peculiarly
interesting and it certainly required no common effort of stupidity to
deprive the world of the benefit of the discovery. The royal engineer
intrusted with the conduct of the antiquarian researches was informed
of the discovery, and immediately, as a proof at once of his skill in his
business and of his loyalty, commanded the brazen letters to be violent-
ly torn from their place, thrown pell-mell into a basket, and hastened
to lay them in this instructive state at the feet of his royal master. Had
a copy of the inscription been taken, while the letters were i in their
place, curiosity might have been satisfied; or even had the stones on
which they were fixed been suffered to remain undisturbed or unde-
faced, the inscription might, with the aid of the letters, and of the holes
by which they were fastened, have been correctly made out. A much
more difficult task was performed by M. Seguier, in making out the in-
scription on the frontispiece of the celebrated Maison carrée of Nismes
in the south of France, a structure erected to the honour of Caius and
Lucius, the grandsons of Augustus Cæsar by Julia his daughter mar-
ried to Agrippa. For here the letters were entirely gone, and nothing
remained but the nails by which the letters, probably of bronze, were
secured. It is true indeed, that the south of Italy, in knowledge, in-
genuity and taste, is centuries behind the south of France, and destined
probably long so to remain.
13
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PAPER. In order to form some general notion of printing, it will be
necessary to say a few words on the nature of the materials, and im-
plements employed in the operation, viz. paper, ink, types, and the
printing-press. Paper is supposed to draw its name from the papyros,
as the Greeks called it, a kind of large rush growing in the marshes
of the Nile in Egypt. The stalk is triangular, terminating in a large
heavy bearded head. The interior of the lower part of the stalk is eaten
by the people of the country. A plant of the same kind, still called
papero, is found in stagnating waters near Syracuse in Sicily, believed
to have been carried thither from Egypt. The inner part of the bark
of the plant was employed by the ancients in the fabric of paper. Strips
of this bark were laid on a table, with others across them, and the
whole, by means of water and some cohesive substance, was strongly
pressed together, until it combined into one compact body. Hence it
is that in ancient authors mention is made of paper of different layers
or courses of the bark, Of the first use of the papyrus as a material to
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LETTER-PRESS PRINTING.

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be written upon we know no more than that Herodotus, who wrote
four hundred and fifty years before our era, states that, in times which
he thought ancient, both paper and skins of animals were in common
use for writing. The reference made by Job to writing has already
been mentioned; and whatever date may be allotted to his existence, or
to the composition of his history, the best judges of the language in
which it is composed consider it to be coeval with Moses, who flourish-
ed above a thousand years before Herodotus. The use of the Egyptian
papyrus seems to have been known even in the days of Homer, nine
hundred years before our era; but it was not until the time of
Alexander, six centuries later, that it came to be prepared in due per-
fection. Not only paper, but the papyrus rush itself was carried from
Egypt to Rome, where it was converted into paper. It varied, as we
learn from Pliny, who wrote towards the end of the first century, in its
qualities and breadth from the Emporetica, so called because employed
to wrap up commodities for sale, six inches in breadth, to the higher
sorts the Augusta, the Liviana, and the Hieratica, which were thirteen
inches broad. The Augusta paper proving too transparent, a paper of
a thicker quality, and eighteen inches broad was introduced under
Claudius, and from him called Claudia. Each sheet of the ancient pa-
per at Rome was double, the principal side being the largest slice that
could be got, of uniform breadth, in the whole length of the papyrus;
and it was covered or lined with shorter pieces fastened on with the
glutinous water of the Nile or with paste. The longitudinal fibres of
the plant, running thus across one another, gave the paper the appear-
ance of linen. A specimen of papyrus paper in the British Museum
London is about nine feet long by twelve or thirteen inches broad. On
it is written a donation by a pious lady, dated in the 27th year of the
emperor Justinian, or in our year 553.
*
After the Saracens, (so called by their suffering neighbours, from an
Arabic term still retained in Malta signifying thieves or robbers,) had
obtained possession of Egypt, all intercourse of the Christians with that
country was cut off, until the beginning of the ninth century. Hence
it happens that the writings of importance in Europe which, before
the Saracen invasion, had been done on papyrus, are afterwards always
written on parchment. In the middle of the tenth century we are told
by an Arabian traveller, that the best paper in the world was made at
Samarcand in the heart of Asia; but the nature of this paper is not
mentioned. About the year 1100, and perhaps long before, paper
made of cotton was used for books and other writings. A charter dated
in 1102, is described as written on cotton paper (charta cuttunea,) in a
renewal of it by Roger king of Sicily in 1145. This kind of paper was
also called charta bombycina, signifying properly paper made of silk,
but extended also to cotton which, even in the present day, is called
bambaccia by the Italians: hence we have the stuff called bombazine,
and bastine, now corrupted into fustian. This cotton paper, become
common in the Eastern empire, in a great measure superseded, or ra-
ther made up for the want of the Egyptian papyrus and parchment.
It is probably to the discovery of cotton paper that we owe the preser-
vation of such of the writings of the authors of ancient Greece and
Rome, as have come down to our times; as the scarcity and high
price of parchment had occasioned the destruction of many of those
writings. For the monks who were almost the only readers, writers,

✔

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•
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1
LETTER-PRESS-PRINTING.
4.57
+
*
and librarians of the dark ages, made no conscience of erasing the writ-
ings of the most valuable classic authors, in order to procure a piece of
parchment fit to record the more precious lives and miracles of his fa-
vourite saints. And it is not less curious than just, that the care taken
to preserve those monkish records has been in its turn the means of pre-
serving, and restoring to the world, many valuable fragments of the an-
cients with which the parchment had been originally covered. Cotton
paper was not however found sufficiently stout and durable for import-
ant purposes; on which account the emperor of Germany Frederic ÎI. in
1221, ordered all public deeds and securities to be written thenceforth
on parchment alone. Meerman, chief magistrate of Rotterdam in Hol-
land, after very laborious study and research, fixed the beginning of
the manufacture of paper from linen rags, between the years 1270 and
1302. And in the Transactions of the Society of Antiquaries of London,
Vol. V. act. 10, mention is made of a letter existing in the Tower, from
a king of Spain to Edward I. written in 1272 on paper: but the sub-
stance of the paper is not stated. The most ancient specimen of paper
such as we now use, made of linen rags, is a charter seven inches long,
and three inches broad, preserved in the Emperor's library in Vienna,
which was written in the year 1243; being at least half a century older
than any other specimens of which the date and the existence are well
known. Among the articles composing the cargo of a Spanish ship
from Genoa for Sluys, the port of Bruges, in Flanders, wrecked on the
west coast of England in 1380, are mentioned 22 bales of writing paper.
Of late times much of the paper used in Italy is, on the contrary, drawn
from Flanders. Parchment, a corruption of the French parchemin, is a
preparation of sheep and other skins, for the purposes of writing and
printing, so called, as it is commonly said, from Pergamus, the capital of
a kingdom on the western coast of Asia Minor, who devised that sub-
stitute for Egyptian paper, of which the exportation had been prohibited.
That animal skins were, however, used long before this period, is not to
be doubted: material improvements may, notwithstanding, have been
introduced at Pergamus, sufficient to warrant the adoption of that par-
ticular name.
i
+
1


Chinese paper, so remarkable for its peculiar delicacy, is of various sorts.
Some is made of the rind or bark of trees, especially of the mulberry and
the elm, or else of the bamboo and cotton tree. Each different province
of that immense empire may, indeed, be said to make its own pecu-
liar sort of paper. That of the bamboo, a species of the cane or reed,
is made from the second bark, which is soft and white. It is beaten in
fair water to a pulp, which is taken up in moulds of such a size, that
sheets are sometimes made of twelve feet in length. These are after-
terwards dipped in alum-water, which renders the paper impenetrable
by ink, and gives the paper the appearance of being varnished. It is
white, soft, and of a close texture; but although quite smooth, it breaks
more easily than European paper: it is also so thin as to be soon worn
out, and is, besides, very subject to destruction by worms.
↓
The inventor of paper made from linen rags, whoever he was, is en-
titled to the sincerest gratitude of the world and of posterity. The art
of printing would be comparatively but of little importance, unless we
had such a material as linen-paper to receive the impressions. While
the papyrus was alone used, it was impossible to procure it in sufficient
quantity to satisfy the demands of many readers. The cotton-paper was
3 N
:
No. 20
458
LETTER-PRESS PRINTING.
A.
but a rude and coarse material, unfit for any of the delicate purposes to
which linen-paper is applicable. The perfection of the art of paper-
making, therefore, consisted in finding a substance which could be pro-
cured in sufficient quantities, would be of easy preparation, and appli-
cable to every purpose: such is the paper now in use. A more com-
mon, or less valuable substance cannot be conceived, than the remnants
and fragments of our garments, our linen worn out, and otherwise inca-
pable of being turned into use, and of which an abundant supply is con-
tinually furnished. Nor can a labour more simple be conceived than
trituration, for a few hours, in water by a mill. So great is the dispatch
in preparing the material by the mill, that five workmen 'may furnish
paper sufficient to occupy three thousand writers and transcribers; and
this even on the old plan of hand labour: but by the modern improve-
ments of mills, where the paper is produced in one continued web, in-
stead of sheet by sheet, a great portion of the labour is totally done
.
+
C
away.
$
7
The operations of paper-making, in their regular order, are these: 1st,
The linen rags are washed and sorted. 2d, They are bleached to whiten
them: but this operation is sometimes deferred to a later period. 3d,
They are ground in water in the washing engine, till they are reduced
to a coarse or imperfect pulp, called in the business half-stuff, in which
state the bleaching is sometimes performed. 4th, The half-stuff is again
ground in the beating engine, and water is added in quantity sufficient
to make a fine pulp. 5th, This last being conveyed to the vats, the
sheets of paper are made by taking up a quantity of the pulp upon a
mould of fine wire-cloth, through which the water drains away, leaving
upon the wire the pulp, which consolidates into what we call a sheet of
paper: the operation of taking off this sheet is termed couching. 6th,
These sheets are piled up with a felt of wool or hair between each two;
and the whole are then strongly pressed, to force off the water. 7th, The
sheets are then taken out, the felts removed, and the sheets are pressed
again by themselves, for a certain time. 8th, The sheets are taken out
from the press and hung up, five or six together, to dry in the drying-
loft. 9th, The paper is dipped into a vessel containing fine size, and
again pressed, to remove the superfluity, after which it is again dried:
but in printing paper this process is rendered unnecessary, by sizing the
stuff itself whilst in the engine. 10th, The paper now undergoes an ex-
amination of each individual sheet; all knots and burs are removed, and
bad sheets are taken out. 11th, The dry sheets are packed in a very large
pile, and pressed with a prodigious force, to render them flat and smooth.
12th, The paper is taken out, parted, and again pressed. Parting is
the taking down of the pile, sheet by sheet, and making another pile,
without turning over the sheets. By this management new surfaces are
brought into mutual contact, and the face of the paper is improved.
13th, The paper is now finished, counted out in quires, folded, and
packed in reams for sale.
*
•


The linen rags used in making paper are purchased by dealers, who se
parate them into five sorts of white rags for the mills, entitled Nos. 1, 2,
3, 4, and 5, according to their fineness; No. 1 being all linen, the remains
of fine cloth, is used for making the finest paper; and No. 5, consisting
of coarse canvas, may be bleached, but makes only coarse paper. The
first three sorts are for writing and fine printing; the remainder for nëws-
papers, and other inferior papers. Old paper may be used for the same pat-
1
LETTER-PRESS PRINTING.
*
459
î
poses: but the waste would be too considerable, on which account it is
generally reserved for pasteboard.
The greatest care ought to be used in sorting and separating the rags
of different qualities, otherwise the necessary reduction to pulp, the
bleaching, &c. will be unequally done, and the inequality of the paper
will occasion a loss more than equivalent to the additional expence of
particular sorting.
The greatest improvement in modern paper making is in the bleach-
ing of the rags. This enables the manufacturer to produce the finest
paper, in point of colour, from almost any kind of rags. This busi-
ness is thus reduced to find materials fit to make a paper of a strong
texture, and a fine even surface; knowing he can in the bleaching pro-
duce any colour he may wish for. The bleaching of the rags is con-
ducted much in the same way with that of cotton thread, by means of
the vapour, or gas produced from manganese, salt, and sulphuric acid,


We shall now révert to the original object of this essay, the art of
printing. The workmen employed in this art are of two kinds: com-
positors, who arrange and dispose the letters according to the copy de
livered them by the author; and pressmen, who apply the ink and take
off the impression. The types being cast, the compositor distributes
each kind by itself, among the divisions of two wooden frames, an
upper and an under one, called cases, each of which is divided into
little cells or boxes. Those of the upper case are in number 98, all
of the same size, and in them are disposed the capitals, small capitals,
accented letters, figures, &c. the capitals being placed in alphabetical or-
der. In the cells of the lower case, which are 54, are placed the small
letters, with the points, spaces, &c. The boxes are here of different sizes,
the largest being for the letters most used; and these boxes are not in
alphabetical order, but the cells which contain the letters oftenest want-
ed are nearest the compositor's hand. Each case is placed a little a-
slope, that the compositor may more easily reach the upper boxes. The
instrument in which the letters are set is talled a composing stick,
which consists of a long and narrow plate of brass or iron, on the right
side of which, arises a ledge which runs the whole length of the plate,
and serves to sustain the letters, the sides of which are to rest against
it. Along this ledge is a row of holes, which serve for introducing a
screw, in order to lengthen or shorten the extent of the line by mov-
ing the slider further from, or nearer to the short ledge at the end.

-

J

མ
Before the compositor proceeds to compose, he puts a rule, or thin
-slip of brass plate cut to the length of the line, and of the same height
as the letter, in the composing stick, against the ledge, for the letter to
bear against. Things thus prepared, the compositor having the copy
lying before him, and his stick in his left hand, his thumb being over the
slider, with the right he takes up the letters, spaces, &c. one by one,
and places them against the rule, while be supports them with his left
thumb, by pressing them to the end of the slider; the other hand be-
ing constantly employed in setting in more letters: the whole being
performed with a degree of expedition and address not easy to be
imagined.

拿
​•
A line being thus composed, if it ends with a word or syllable, and
exactly fills the measure, there needs no further care. Otherwise spaces
are to be put in, or else the distances lessened between the several
words, in order to make the measure quite full; so that every line may
460
LETTER-PRESS PRINTING.
i
1

•
end even. The spaces here used are pieces of metal exactly shaped.
like the shanks of the letters; these are of various thicknesses, and
serve to support the letters, and to preserve a proper distance between
the words, but not reaching so high as the letters, they make no im-
pression when the work is printed. The first line being thus finished,
the compositor proceeds to the next, in order to which he removes the
brass rule from behind the former, and places it before it, and thus
composes another line against it, after the same manner as before; go-
ing on thus till his stick is full, when he empties all the lines contained
in it into the galley, which is a frame formed of an oblong square
board, with a ledge on three sides, and a groove to admit a false bot-
tom. The compositor then fills and empties his composing stick as be-
fore, till a complete page is formed, when he ties it up with a cord or
pack thread, and setting it by, proceeds to the next, till the number of
pages contained in a sheet is completed: which done, he carries them to
the imposing stone, there to be ranged in order, and fastened together
in a frame called a chase, and this is termed imposing. The chase is a
rectangular iron frame, of different dimensions according to the size of
the paper to be printed; having two cross pieces of the same metal,
called a long and short cross, marked at each end, so as to be taken out
occasionally. By the different situations of these crosses, the chase is
fitted for different volumes. For quartos and octavos, one traverses
the middle lengthwise, the other breadthwise, so as to intersect each
other in the centre; for twelves, and twentyfours, the short cross is
shifted nearer to one end of the chase; for folios the long cross is left
entirely out, and the short one left in the middle; and for broadsides
both crosses are laid aside. To dress the chase, or arrange and fix the`
pages therein, the compositor makes use of a set of furniture, consisting
of slips of wood of different dimensions, and about half an inch high,
that they may be lower than the letters. Some of these are placed at
the top of the pages, and called head-sticks; others between them, to
form the inner margin; others on the sides of the crosses, to form the
outer margin where the paper is to be doubled, and others in the form
of wedges to the sides and bottom of the pages.
Then all the pages
being placed at their proper distances, and secured from injury by the
chase, and the furniture placed about them, they are all untied, and
fastened together by small pieces of wood called quoins, cut in the
wedge form, up between the slanting side of the foot and side sticks,
and the chase, by means of a piece of hard wood and a mallet. All be-
ing thus bound fast together, so that none of the letters will fall out, it
is ready to be committed to the pressmen. In this condition the work
is called a form, and as there are two of these forms required for every
sheet when both sides are printed, it is necessary that the distance be-
tween the pages in each form should be placed with much exactness,
that the impression of the pages in one form shall fall exactly on the
back of the pages of the other, a process which is called register.
•
▾
The forms being sent to press, a proof is taken and examined by the
readers, and the compositor rectifies the mistakes by picking out the
faulty or wrong letters, with a slender sharp pointed steel bodkin, and
puts others into their places; but when there are considerable altera-
tions, and particularly where insertions or omissions are to be made,
he is under the necessity of over-running, or re-arranging many lines in
succession.
•
LETTER-PRESS PRINTING,
461
The business of the pressmen is to work off the forms thus prepared
and corrected by the compositor: in doing which there are four things
required: paper, ink, balls, and a press. The printing press of the
common construction, and of Lord Stanhope, are too familiar to every
person to require description. To prepare the paper for use, it is first
wetted by dipping several sheets together in water; these are after-
wards laid in a heap over each other, and to make them take the wa-
ter equally, they are all pressed close down with a weight at the top.
The ink is a composition of lamp black and linseed or suet oil, boiled
so as to acquire considerable consistence and tenacity. The art of pre-
paring it is kept a secret, but its excellence depends almost exclusively
on the goodness of the lamp black.
Stereotype printing was introduced into this country by Mr. Ged of
Edinburgh, was adopted by the university of Edinburgh, and has been
extended with much success by Messrs. Watts, Wilson, Brightly, and
Cock and M'Gowan. The mode of stereotype printing is first to set
up a page in the common way, and when it is rendered perfectly cor-
rect, a cast is taken from it, and in this cast the metal for the stereotype
plate is poured. For standard and extensively circulating works, the
invention is invaluable, as the chief expence of future editions is com-
pletely obviated, and the original types, after the cast is made, may be
devoted to their former use. The printed paper is now consigned to the
book-binder, who first folds the sheets with a folding stick, and lays them
over each other in the order of the signatures, which are the letters
with the numbers annexed to them at the bottom of the pages of the
first one, two, or more leaves in each sheet. The leaves thus folded
are then beaten on a stone with a hammer, to make them smooth, and
open well, and afterwards pressed. While in the press they are sewed
upon bands, which are pieces of cord or pack thread; six bands to a
folio book, five to a quarto, octavo, &c. which is done by drawing a
thread through the middle of each sheet, and giving it a turn round
each band, beginning with the first, and proceeding to the last.
After this the books are glued, and the bands opened and scraped for
the better fixing the pasteboards; the back is turned with a hammer,
and the book fixed in a press between two boards, in order to make a
groove for fixing the pasteboards. These being applied, holes are made
for fixing them to the book, which is pressed a third time. Then the
book is at last put to the cutting press, betwixt two boards, the one
lying even with the press, for the knife to run upon, the other above it
for the knife to run against; after which the pasteboards are squared,
*
+
:

V

λ
The next operation is sprinkling the leaves of the book, which is done
by dipping a brush into vermilion and sap-green, holding the brush in
one hand, and spreading the hair with the other; by which motion the
edges of the leaves are sprinkled in a regular manner, without any spots
being larger than the rest.
The covers, which are either of calf or sheep skin, being moistened
in water, are next cut out to the size of the book, then smeared over
with paste made of wheat flour, and afterwards stretched over the
pasteboard on the outside, and doubled over the edges withinside,
after having first taken off and indented, and platted the cover at the
head-band; which done, the book is covered, and bound firmly with
bands, and then set to dry. Afterwards it is washed over with a little
paste and water, and then finely sprinkled with a brush; unless it

462
LETTER-PRESS PRINTING
.
should be marbled, when the spots are to be made larger by mixing the
ink with vitriol. After this, the book is glued here with the white of
an egg beaten, and at last polished with a polishing iron passed hot
over the glazed cover.
The letters or other ornaments on books, are made with gilding tools
engraved in relievo, either on the points of puncheons or around little
cylinders of brass. The puncheons make their impressions by being
pressed flat down, and the cylinders by being rolled along by a handle,
to which they are fitted on an iron axis. To apply the gold, the bind-
ers glue the parts of the leather with liquor made of the whites of eggs
diluted with water, by means of a piece of spunge, and when nearly
dry, the pieces of gold leaf are laid on; the tools being made hot in a
charcoal fire, are also laid on, and the book is finished.
1-
ī
CHAP. VIII.
GALVANISM.
1
GALVANISM is a term used to denote the influence of metals by
mere external contact with the animal body. Its operation was first
discovered by Dr. Galvani of Bologna, who announced it to the scientific
world in a publication entitled Commentaries on the Powers of Electri-
city on Muscular Motion. The discoveries of Galvani were made prin-
cipally with dead frogs : he in the first place discovered that a frog, dead
and skinned, is capable of having its muscles brought into action, by
means of electricity, however small its quantity. Secondly, that inde-
pendent of any apparent electricity, the same motions may be produ-
ced in the dead animal, or even in a detached limb, merely by making
a communication between the nerves and the muscles, with substances
that are conductors of electricity. If the circuit of communication con-
sists of non-conductors of electricity, as glass, sealing wax, and the like,
no motion will take place. Similar experiments were successfully insti-
tuted on other animals; and as the power seemed to be inherent in the
animal parts, those experiments, or the power which produces the mo-
tion of the muscle in these experiments, were denominated animal elec-
tricity. But it being now fully ascertained, that by the mere contact of
metallic, and other conducting substances, some electricity is generated,
it is evident, that the muscular motions in the above experiments are
produced by metallic electricity.
:
***
♦
"It had been long asserted, that when porter is drank out of a pewter
pot, it has a peculiar taste different from that which arises when drank
out of a glass, or earthen ware; and when the copper sheathing of ships
is fastened on by means of iron nails, the metallic electricity is evinced
in the corrosion of those nails about the place of contact. Pure mer-
cury retains its metallic splendour for a long time, but its amalgam with
any other metal is soon tarnished or oxydated. The Etruscan inscriptions
engraven on pure, lead are preserved to this day, whereas some medals
of lead or tin of no very ancient date, are much corroded. Works of
metal whose parts are soldered together by means of other metals, soon
+
*

1
1
.!

GAL
GALVANISM.
463
1
tarnish about the places where the different metals are joined. A piece
of zinc might be kept in water for a considerable time without oxyda-
tion; but that circumstance would soon take place if a piece of silver
happened to touch the zinc while standing in water. All these cir-
cumstances agree with the hypothesis, that, the contact of different
metals, acted upon by an intermediate fluid, or the intervention of a
metal between two different fluids, will produce the phenomena of
galvanism.
*
I
The conductors of electricity, which all differ from each other consi-
derably in condueting power, may be divided into two classes. The
first class, called also dry and perfect conductors, consists of the metallic
substances and charcoal. The second class, or the imperfect conduc....
tors, are water and the oxydating fluids, such as acids, as also the sub-
stances which contain those fluids. The substances of the second class
!
1
•
·
•
f
P
•
·
differ in conducting power much more than those of the first class.
The simplest combinations capable of exciting galvanic electricity,
must consist of three different conductors; for two conductors only will
not produce any sensible effect. If the three conductors be all of the
first class, or all of the second, then the effect is seldom perceivable.
To make the combination active, it must consist of three different
bodies, viz. of one conductor of one class, and two different conductors.
of the other class..
=
;
When two of these bodies are of the first class, and one is of the ge
cond, the combination is said to be of the first order; otherwise it is
said to be of the second order.
In a single active galvanic combination, or, as it is commonly called,
a simple galvanic circle, the two bodies of the same class must touch
each other in one or more points, at the same time that they are con-
nected with each other at other points, by the third body of the other:
class.
The nerves of animals appear to be affected by smaller quantities of
electricity than any other substances with which we are acquainted:
hence prepared limbs of animals are much employed for ascertaining
the production of electricity by simple contact, or galvanic electricity.
#
The sensibility of the prepared animal is greatest at first, but it di-.
minishes by degrees, till it vanishes entirely. Cold-blooded animals,
especially frogs, retain this sensibility for several hours, sometimes even
for a day or two. With other animals the sensibility does not last long
after death, and sometimes not above a few minutes. Galvani first dis-i
covered that a frog, dead and skinned, is capable of having its mus
cles brought into action by means of common electricity, even in ex-..
ceeding small quantities, probably by one-hundredth part of what would
just affect a very delicate electrometer.
:
If the leg of a frog recently dead, be separated from the rest of the
body, but having a small portion of the spine attached to it, and if it be...
so situated, that a little electricity may pass through it, either by the
immediate contact of an electrified body, or by the action of electrified is
atmospheres (as when the preparation is placed within a certain dis
tance of an electrical machine, and a spark is taken from the prime
conductor), the legs of the animal will be instantly affected with a kind
of spasmodic contraction, sometimes, so strong as to jump a consider
able way.
If the electricity be made to pass through the prepared limb by the
f
*
+
+



464
GALVANISM.
1
immediate contact of the electrified body, a much smaller quantity of
it is sufficient to occasion the convulsive movements, than when it is
made to pass from one conductor to another, at a certain distance from
the prepared limb: and these movements are much stronger when the
electricity passes through a nerve to the muscles, than through any
other part.
Galvani afterwards discovered, that similar effects may be produced
in the prepared animal, without the apparent aid of electricity, by only
making a communication between the nerves and the muscles by a con-
ducting substance.
1
In an animal recently dead, detach one end of a nerve from the sur-
rounding parts, taking care not to cut it too near its insertion into the
muscle: remove the integuments from over the muscles which depend
on that nerve: take a piece of metal, as a wire, touch the nerve with
one extremity of it, and the muscles with the other extremity: on do-
ing which, you will find that the prepared limbs are affected in the same
manner as when electricity is passed through them.
If the communication between the nerve and the muscle be formed
by substances which are non-conductors of electricity, such as glass,
sealing-wax, &c. then no movements will take place.
The communication between the muscle and the nerve may consist
of one or more pieces, and these may be of the same conducting sub-
stance, or, what is better, of different substances connected together.
The bodies which answer best for this purpose are silver and zinc; but
silver and tin, copper and zinc, and other combinations, are nearly as
good. If part of the nerve of a prepared limb be wrapped up in a bit
of tin-foil, or be only laid upon zinc, and a piece of silver be laid with
one end upon the muscle, and with the other upon the above mention-
ed tin or zinc, the motion of the limb will be very violent.
3
•
The two metals may be placed either in contact with the preparation,
or in any other part of the circuit, which may be completed by means
of other conductors, as water, &c. Place two wine-glasses, full of wa-
ter, near each other, but not actually touching. Put the prepared thigh
and leg of a frog into the water of one glass, and laying the nerve
over the edges of the two glasses, and let the tin-foil which is wrapped
round it, touch the water of the other glass. If now you form the com-
munication between the water in the two glasses, by means of silver,
or put the fingers of one hand into the water of the glass that contains
the leg, and holding a piece of silver in the other, you touch the coat-
ing of the nerves with it, you will find that the prepared legs are so
violently excited, as sometimes actually to jump out of the glass.
J
These convulsive motions may be excited not only in dead, but also
in living animals, particularly of the cold-blooded kind, as frogs, eels,
flounders, &c. Place a living frog upon a plate of zinc, having pasted
a slip of tin-foil upon its back; then form a communication between the
zinc and the tin-foil, by means of a wire or other piece of metal, and
the same kind of contractions will take place in the limbs, as are excit-
in the prepared limbs of dead animals by the same means. This
experiment may even be performed, if the frog be entirely under the
·
•

water. 2 *
Aflounder may be acted upon in a similar manner. Take a live
flounder; dry it with a cloth, and put it in a pewter plate, or upon a
large piece of tin foil, and place a piece of silver upon its back. Then
I
GALVANISM.
465.
t
with one end of a piece of metal touch the pewter plate, and apply the
other extremity of the metal to the piece of silver, and contractions will
immediately ensue.
All animals, whether large or small, may be affected in the same
manner by galvanism, but in different degrees.
The limbs of men, while undergoing the operation of amputation,
have been convulsed by the application of metals.
Both the senses of taste and sight are also capable of being affected
by it. Let a man lay a piece of metal upon his tongue, and a piece of
some other metal under the tongue: on forming a connection between
those two metals, either by bringing their outer edges in contact, or by
the interposition of some other piece of metal, he will perceive a pecu-
liar sensation, a kind of irritation, accompanied by a cool acid taste,
much resembling that produced by common electricity applied to the
tongue.
P
In order to affect the sense of sight by means of metals, let a man
`put a piece of zinc or tin between the upper lip and the gums, as high
as possible, and a piece of silver upon the tongue; whenever the two
metals are made to communicate, either by touching, or by the interpo-
sion of another piece, a flash of light will be instantly perceived.
4
The most powerful galvanic circles of the first order are, where two
solids of different degrees of oxydability, are combined with a fluid ca-
pable of oxydating at least one of the solids. Thus gold, silver, and wa◄.
ter, do not form an active galvanic circle; but the circle will become
active, if a little nitric acid, or any fluid decomposible by silver, be mix-
ed with the water. An active galvanic circle is formed of zinc, silver,
and water; and the zinc is oxydated by the water, provided the latter
contains some common air, as it generally does, and still more, if it
contain oxygen air. But a little nitric acid added to the water, renders
the combination more active, as the acid acts both upon the zinc and
the silver.
.:i
The most powerful galvanic combinations of the second order are,
where two conductors of the second class have different chemical ac-
tions on the conductors of the first class, at the same time that they act
upon each other. Thus copper, silver, or lead, with a solution of
alkaline sulphuret and diluted nitrous acid, form a very active galvanic
circle.
air
The following tables of galvanic arrangements were composed by
Sir H. Davy, professor of chemistry at the Royal Institution:
1

Table of Galvanic Circles of the First Order, composed of two perfect.
Conductors, and one imperfect Conductor
Oxydating fluids.
Very oxyd-
able sub-
stances.
Zinc
·
Iron
Tin
Lead
Less oxydable substances.
With gold, charcoal, silver,]
copper, tin, iron, mer-
cury.
With gold, charcoal, silver,
copper, tin.
With gold, silver, char-
coal.
With gold, silver.
Solutions of nitric acid in
water, of muriatic acid,
and sulphuric acid, &c...
Water holding in solution
atmospheric
oxygene,
air, &c.
30
;
**TH
J
466
Very oxyd-
able sub-
stances.
Copper
Silver
A
·
✔
Perfect
Conductors.
Charcoal
Copper
Silver
Lead
Tin
Iron
Zinc
J
GALVANISM.
Less oxydable substances.
With gold, silver.
With gold.
Table of Galvanic Circles of the Second Order, composed of two imperfect
Conductors, and one perfeet Conductor.
Imperfect Conductors.
Solutions of hydrogenated
alkaline sulphurets cap-
able of acting on the first
three metals, but not on
the last three.
*
སོ
Oxydating fluids.
Solution of nitrate of sil
ver and mercury, nitric
acid, acetous acid.
Nitric acid.
The action of a simple galvanic circle seems to be in some measure
dependent upon the quantity of surface of contact between the acting
bodies; and a higher temperature, within certain limits, renders the ac-
tivity of the circle greater than a lower temperature.
Since Galvani's discoveries, the action arising from the combination
of three conductors has been examined with great care and with consi-
derable success, by Mr. Volta, who discovered, a few years ago, that
the slight effect of such a combination may be increased prodigiously
by repeating the combination: for instance, if a combination of silver,
zinc, and water, produce a certain effect, a second combination (viz.
another piece of silver, another piece of zinc, and another quantity of
water) added to the first, will increase the effect: the addition of a
third combination will increase the effect still more, and so on..
Imperfect Conductors,
Solutions of nitrous acid,
oxygenated muriatic
acid, &c. capable of
acting on all the metals.
1


-}
These repeated combinations are now called galvanic piles, or batte,
ries, though in justice they ought to be called Volta's batteries.
These batteries are said to be of the first or second order, according
as the simple combinations of which they consist are of the first or se
cond order. Thus, if a piece of zinc be laid upon a piece of copper,
and a piece of moistened card be laid upon the zinc; then a similar ar
rangement of three other such pieces be laid upon them, and a third
arrangement be laid upon that, &c. all in the same order, the whole
will form a battery of the first order. But if the arrangement be made
by connecting a piece of copper with a piece of cloth moistened with a
solution of sulphuret of pot-ash, and this, again, with another piece of
copper, &c. the whole will form a battery of the second order.
Care must be taken in arranging the pieces of a galvanic battery, that
the parts do not counteract each other. The method of doing this will
be easily understood, when it is considered that every simple, galvanic
combination has a positive and negative end; or that, in every com-
plete galvanic circle, the electric fluid circulates in one way only. Thus
if two simple combinations are so arranged, that the two currents op-
pose each other, they will be both annihilated, if equal; or, if unequal,
the effect will be only the excess of one above the other.
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GALVANISM.
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GALVANISM.
467
1
1
These batteries may be constructed in an infinite variety of forms.
We shall describe those that have been as yet most generally used.
d
The apparatus of Volta was constructed in the following manner:
Take a number of plates of copper, or, what is better, of silver, and an
equal number of tin plates, or, what is still better, of zinc, and the
same number of pieces of card, leather, or woollen cloth, the last of
which seems to answer the best. Let these last be well soaked in com-
mon water, or rather in a solution of common salt, sal ammoniac, nitre,
or nitrous acid. The silver, or copper, may be pieces of money, and
the zinc pieces may be cast of the same size. A pile is to be formed of
these substances in the following manner: a piece of zinc, a piece of sil-
ver, and a piece of wet cloth, or card; then another piece of zinc, a
piece of silver, and a piece of wet cloth; and so on in the same order,
till the number required has been placed. The instrument is then fit
for use; but as the pieces, when unsupported, are apt to fall down
when their number is considerable, it is best to support them by means
of three rods of glass, stuck into a piece of wood, and touching the
metallic pieces at three equally distant points, as represented in Fig. 7.
Down these rods may slide a small circular piece of wood, having three
holes in it, and which will serve to keep the top of the pile tight, and
the different pieces in close contact. The moistened pieces should like-
wise be somewhat less than the pieces of metal, and though they
should be well moistened, they should be gently squeezed before they
are applied, that the superfluous moisture may not run down the pile,
or insinuate itself between the pieces of metal.
The instrument, constructed in this manner, will afford a perpetual
current of the electric fluid, through any conductor communicating be-
tween the uppermost and lowest plate: and if one hand be applied to
the lowest plate, and the other to the upper, a shock is felt, which is
repeated as often as the contact is renewed. The principal objections
to this construction of the pile, or battery, is the trouble of placing the
pieces in the proper order, and also that of cleaning the pieces of zinc,
which are rapidly oxydated. The best method of doing this, is by a
file, or by putting them into diluted muriatic acid, which dissolves the
oxyd.
The battery, Fig. 8, consists of a row of wine glasses, or cups, con-
taining salt and water, or nitrous acid and water, Into each of these
is plunged a plate of zinc, and another of silver. These plates are
made to communicate with each other by means of a thin wire, fasten-
ed so that the silver of the first glass is connected with the zinc of the
second, the silver of the second with the zinc of the third, and so on
progressively through the whole chain of glasses. When one hand is
dipped into the first glass, and another into the last, the shock is
perceived.
But though this machine will continue in action a very long time,
and when the pieces of zinc are oxydated, they may be easily taken out
and cleaned; yet it occupies a great deal of room, when an apparatus
of considerable power is wanted.
The battery represented in Fig. 9, is found much more convenient,
not being liable to the objections of the two last. It consists of a
trough of baked wood, about three inches deep, and about as broad.
In the sides of this vessel are grooves opposite to each other, and about
a quarter of an inch apart. Into each pair of these opposite grooves is
WE
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468
GALVANISM.
put a plate of zinc and silver, or zinc and copper soldered together.
These plates are well fixed in the grooves, in the proper order of silver
and zinc, silver and zinc, as in the pile, by a cement made of five parts
of resin, four of bees-wax, and two parts of powdered red ochre. This
cement must be run in very carefully, so as absolutely to prevent any
communication between the different cells, which would entirely pre-
vent the action of the machine. The cells are then filled with water
containing a little acid, common salt, or muriate of ammonia.
When a communication is made between the first and last cell, by
means of the hands, a strong shock is felt.
Instead of silver, or copper and zinc, any of the above-mentioned
combinations will answer.
The action of all these batteries is greatest, when they are first com-
pleted, or filled with the fluid; and it declines in proportion as the me-
tal is oxydated, or the fluid loses its power. Hence, after a certain
time, not only the fluid must be changed, but the metallic pieces must
be cleaned by removing the oxydated surface, which is done either by
filing or by rubbing them with sand-paper, or by weak muriatic acid,
which dissolves the oxyd.
When a galvanic battery of the first order (the action of those of the
second order being weaker, and much more transient), consists of
twenty repetitions of simple combinations, if you touch with one hand
one extremity of the battery, and apply your other hand to the other
extremity, you will feel a very slight shock, like that which is commu-
nicated by a Leyden phial weakly charged, and it will be hardly felt
beyond the fingers, or at most the wrists. This shock is felt as often
as you renew the contact. If you continue your hands in contact with
the extremities, you will perceive a slight but continued irritation; and
when the hand, or the other part of the body which touches the other
extremity of the battery, is excoriated or wounded, this sensation is dis-
agreeable, and rather painful.
The intensity of the charge is, however, so low, that it cannot make
its way through the dry skin of the hand, which is but an imperfect
conductor: the fingers should therefore be well moistened with water.
It will be better to immerse a wire that proceeds from one extremity
of the battery in a bason of water, wherein you may plunge one of your
hands; then grasping with your other hand well moistened a large
piece of metal, for instance a large silver spoon, touch the other end
of the battery with it, and the shock will be felt more distinctly.
Several persons may receive the shock together, by joining hands
in the same manner as in receiving the shock from a Leyden phial.
For this purpose, the hands must be well moistened with water. But
the strength of the shock is much diminished by passing through so
long a circuit, the last person feeling it much less violently than the
first. In general, its effect is lessened by passing through imperfect
conductors.

The galvanic shock is similar to that from a common electrical battery
weakly charged, and not like a small Leyden phial fully charged. The
difference appears to consist in this, that the latter contains a small
quantity of the electric fluid much condensed, so that it can force its
way through a certain distance, perhaps an inch of air; but the former
contains a vast quantity of the electric fluid, in a very rare, or little
condensed state: it cannot, therefore, force a passage through the air,
1
V
GALVANISM.
469
:
and the substances that form the communication must come into actual
contact, or very nearly so. Thus a discharge of a very powerful bat-
tery will not take place, if the wires forming the communication be
more than a fortieth of an inch apart.
It appears very probable, that a galvanic battery puts into action a
great quantity of the electric fluid, in a state little condensed. From
the circumstance of the substances of which the pile is composed being
all good conductors of electricity, it would appear, that the electric
fluid in a galvanic battery cannot be in a very condensed state, other-
wise it would easily pass from one end to the other, and restore the
equilibrium. And, indeed, it is not easy to be conceived why this does
not always happen.
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•
In this case a small but very vivid spark is seen at the points of the
wires, accompanied with a pretty loud snapping noise. There is no
perceptible difference of appearance between the spark of the positive,
and that of the negative end of the battery.
If a wire proceeding from one extremity of a pretty strong galvanic
battery, be made to communicate with the inside coating of a common
large jar, or electrical battery, and a wire which proceeds from the
other extremity be made to communicate with the outside coating: the
latter will become weakly, but almost instantaneously, charged, in the
same manner as if it had been charged by a few turns of a common
electrical machine; and with that charge you may produce the same
effects as by an equal quantity of common electricity.
The shock from a battery consisting of 50 or 60 pairs of zinc and
silver, or zinc and copper, may be felt as far as the elbows: and the
combined force of five or six such batteries will give a shock that few
men would be willing to receive. The prepared limbs of a frog, or
other animal, are violently convulsed, but soon exhausted of their irrita-
bility by the action of this battery.
The spark from a galvanic battery acts with astonishing activity up-
on inflammable bodies when sent through them. It fires gunpowder,
ether, spirit of wine, cotton, hydrogene gas, phosphorus, &c. it renders
red hot, fuses, and consumes very slender metallic wires, and metallic
leaves, as tin-foil, gold, silver, and brass-leaf. The method of making
these experiments is as follows: having filled the cells of the battery
(Fig. 9.) with water containing a little nitrous acid (about one-tenth of
acid will form a very active fluid), wipe carefully the edges of the plates
with a towel, to prevent any communication between the cells. Hav-
ing fastened bits of copper to the ends of two pieces of wire, as Fig. 10,
of which annealed copper wire is the best, insert them into the fluid in
each of the extreme cells, as in Fig. 9. Upon the other ends of the
wires, slip on a bit of small glass tube to lay hold of the wires by.
After a few minutes the acid will act upon the plates; and if the points
of the wires be brought near to each other by moving them by the glass
tubes, a spark will be perceived between them. Some of the inflam-
mable substance intended to be acted upon may be laid upon a plate of
glass, or put between the points of the wires. In this manner the com-
bustion of gold and silver leaf, &c. may be shewn, forming some of the
most beautiful experiments that have ever been exhibited. Copper or
brass leaf, commonly called Dutch gold, burns with a beautiful green
light, silver with pale blue light, and gold with yellow light, and all
**
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470
GALVANISM.
with a crackling something analogous to the noise heard in the burn-
ing of paper rubbed over with wet gun-powder.
When very great power is wanted, several of these batteries may be
united, by placing them together, as in Fig. 11. Pieces of copper are
cut into the form shewn by Fig. 12, and bent as in Fig. 13: the bent
ends of these pieces being inserted into the adjoining cells, at the ex-
tremities of each battery, & communication is formed from the end A
of the first battery, to the end B of the last battery.
If wires be now
placed in these ends, in the same manner as in the battery Fig. 9, the
collected force of the whole will be exhibited at the points of the wires.
It is usual to make these batteries with 50 pairs of metallic plates in
each, so that four batteries contain 200 pairs of plates, which are suffi-
cient to produce all the effects above-mentioned in the most satisfactory
manner. Two of these batteries will, if properly prepared, exhibit
most of the usual experiments.
One of the most extraordinary effects of the galvanic pile or battery,
is the apparent decomposition of water. Fill a small glass tube with
distilled water, and fitting a cork to each extremity, as in Fig. 14, make
a piece of brass or copper wire pass through each of the corks into the
water. Connect then the wire A with one of the extremities of the
battery, while the wire B communicates with the other extremity. You
will then find, that minute bubbles of gas proceed in a constant stream
from the end of the wire which passes from the negative end of the
battery, and ascending to the upper part of the tube, accumulate by
degrees. This gas, if examined, will be found to be hydrogene, and
may be inflamed by the approach of an ignited body on pulling out the
cork. At the same time the other wire deposits a stream of oxyd in
the form of a cloud, which gradually accumulates on the sides and
bottom on the tube. If you interrupt the circuit, the streams of gas
and oxyd disappear, but are renewed again upon restoring the com-
munication.


In this experiment it would appear, that the hydrogene is separated
from the water, and is converted into a gaseous state by the wire con-
nected with the negative extremity of the battery: whilst the oxygene
unites with, and oxydates the wire connected with the positive end of
the battery. If you connect the positive end of the battery with the
lower wire of the tube, and the negative with the upper, then the hy-
drogene proceeds from the upper wire, and the lower wire is oxydated.
If two wires of gold or platina be used, which are not oxydable, then
the streams of gas issue from each, the water is diminished, and the
collected gas is found to be a mixture of hydrogene and oxygene, and
explodes violently on the approach of an ignited body, or by the elec-
tric or the galvanic shock.
To obtain these gases separately, let the two ends of the gold wires
be immersed in a vessel of water (Fig. 15), and be about one inch
apart. Then hang over them two wine-glasses, inverted, and full of
water. The gases will then ascend into the separate vessels.
It is well known that hydrogene gas, in its nascent state, reduces the
oxyds of metals. Accordingly, when the tube (Fig. 14) is filled with
a solution of acetite of lead in distilled water, and a communication is
inade with the battery as above described, no gas is perceived to issue
from the wire which proceeds from the negative end of the battery;
but in a few minutes, beautiful metallic needles are perceived on the

*
GALVANISM.
471
>
extremity of this wire; these soon increase, and assume the form of
fern, or other vegetables. The lead thus separated is in its perfect me
tallic state, and very brilliant.
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The preceding facts can hardly leave any doubt with respect to the
identity of the galvanic power, and the electricity which is produced
by means of a common electrical machine, or that which is brought
down from the clouds; but what is still more remarkable, it reconcileş
to the same principle the animal electricity, viz. the power of the tor-
pedo, gymnotus electricus, &c. since all the phenomena of the animal
electricity agree with those of the galvanic battery. The electric organ
of any of the above-mentioned fishes, seems to be constructed exactly
like a galvanic battery; for it consists of little laminæ, or pellicles, ar
ranged in columns, and separated by moisture.
The resemblance between the effects of galvanic and common elec-
tricity in decomposing water where the latter seemed to fail, has been
confirmed by an experiment of Dr. Woolaston, in which, with a very
simple apparatus, he decomposed water, by a current of electricity from
the prime conductor of an electrical machine.

He likewise remarks another strong point of analogy between the
electricity of galvanism and that of the common electrical machine, viz.
that they both seem to depend upon oxydation. In fact, a common
electrical machine will act more or less powerfully, according as thé
amalgam which is applied to its rubber consists of metals that are more
or less oxydable.

The energy of galvanism as a medical agent, remains yet to be in-
vestigated; but when we consider the effects which a very small quan-
tity of this influence produces on the muscles of an animal, even after
it is deprived of life, it is not, we think, unreasonable to predict, that a
current of galvanic electricity sent for a considerable time through a
diseased part, may be productive of the best effects.
The most extraordinary phenomena of a galvanic battery, are the
chemical effects and the modifications produced by it on the parts con
cerned, or on such as are placed in the circuit; and the circumstance has
led, in the hands of Sir Humphrey Davy, to the most important dis-
coveries. It would be useless and impossible to describe all the minu
tiæ, the machinery and 'experiments, but we shall endeavour to detail
in a popular yet distinct form, the nature and extent of Sir Humphrey's
surprising discoveries.
By far the most important agency of galvanism, is that by which it
gives rise to chemical decomposition. Of all the forces which coun-
teract attraction, and of course subvert combination, it is the most ener-
getic; and as by enlarging the apparatus producing it, it may be accu-
mulated to any degree of intensity, there is apparently no limitation to
its power. Chemistry has thus been put in possession of an agent more
powerful than any it before possessed, and the most splendid discoveries
have been effected by its application. Sir Humphrey Davy, led by the
knowledge of the law by which the agency of this power in producing
decomposition is regulated, submitted to its action a number of sub-
stances, the composition of which was previously to this entirely un-
known. The application was successful; the chemical constitution of
the alkalies, the earths, and certain acids, has been established, and
a series of substances discovered, which were before entirely unknown.
It may be observed, that the decomposition of compounds by the



472
·`GALVANISM.
action of galvanism is obtained by placing them in connection with
metallic wires, proceeding from the two extremities of the galvanic
battery. The elements of the compound are separated, and may be
obtained in their insulated form. If the wires, for instance, are placed
in water, the elements of the water are immediately disjoined; and as
they are gaseous bodies they assume the elastic form, and are dis-
engaged. Other compound liquids are decomposed with equal facility,
as are likewise many solids. These decompositions presented consi-
derable difficulties with regard to their theory, particularly from the
singular phenomenon which had been observed, that the elements of
the compound, when decomposed, are not evolved together, but that one
is given out at the wire connected with one extremity of the galvanic
battery, and the other at the wire connected with the opposite side;
and this even when the wires are placed in separate portions of the
compound, provided these are connected by a conductor of galvanism.
To account for this, different hypotheses were framed. At length it
was perceived, that when electricity passes through a liquid, the prin-
ciples or elements of that liquid separate themselves in such a man-
ner, that some unite around the positive pole, and others around the
negative; inflammable bodies, alkalies, and earths, passing to the ne-
gative oxygene, acids, and oxydated bodies, passing to the positive. On
this same principle, that the one pole of a galvanic series attracts cer-
tain elements, while the other pole attracts the others, an explanation
was given of the decomposition of water, and of metallic solutions, by
galvanism; oxygene being attracted to the positive, hydrogen and me-
tals to the negative side. By the researches of Sir H. Davy, this law
has been more clearly developed, more fully established, and its agency
better traced.
The law is this: that different chemical agents have such a relation
to galvanism, that some are attracted forcibly to the positive, others to
the negative side of the galvanic battery: oxygene, and those compounds
in which it is most predominant, particularly the acids, being attracted
to the former; while inflammable bodies, metals, metallic oxydes, and
the earths are attracted to the latter: or, as the law is stated by Sir
Humphrey Davy, galvanism and electricity being considered as identi-
cal, certain substances, as those above enumerated, are attracted by po-
sitively electrified metallic surfaces, and repelled by similar surfaces
negatively electrified; while other bodies are attracted by negatively
electrified metallic surfaces, and repelled by those which are in a posi-
tive state. In consequence of this law, if the compound of oxygene and
an inflammable body be subjected to the action of galvanism, the oxy-
gene is attracted by the wire in the positive state, while it is repelled by
that which is negative; and, on the other hand, the inflammable in-
gredient is attracted by the negative wire, and repelled by the other.
The experiments by which these results and the law deduced from
them have been established are decisive; but into a description of them
we cannot enter. It may, however, be observed, that there has not,
in the progress of chemical investigation, been a more brilliant series of
discoveries than those effected by Sir Humphrey Davy, by the applica-
tion of galvanism. They have not only extended the boundaries of
chemistry, by the decomposition of a number of substances, the analyses
of which had not before been effected, and by the introduction of others
before unknown, possessed of very peculiar and active powers, but

|
GÁLVANISM.
473

they present views extensively connected with the relations of the sci-
ence, and which will unquestionably influence its future progress.
[
Among the classes of chemical agents, the alkalies and earths are
strictly connected by their general powers, and they possess, in par-
ticular, to the same extent, the most important property by which they
are characterised. The leading property distinctive of the alkalies is
displayed in their relations to the acids: these two classes are in a mea-
sure opposed to each other: in entering into combination, the acids
always diminish the alkaline properties; the alkalines are equally sub-
versive of the property of acidity; and, when united in a certain pro-
portion, the properties of neither appear in the compound. The same
agency is exerted by the earths and the metallic oxydes. Thus, in the
most important chemical character of these substances that displayed
in their relation to acids, the alkalies; earths, and metallic oxydes, are
strictly connected; and the constitution of the last being known, ana-
logy would have led to the conclusion that the others are of a similar
nature, or that the earths and alkalies consist of metallic bases com-
bined with oxygen. At length the discoveries of Sir Humphry Davy
have fully established the analogy, and have demonstrably proved that
they consist of metallic bases combined with oxygen. After these dis-
coveries, ammonia appeared insulated in composition, though in its
properties so strictly connected with the alkalies. Sir H. Davy, how-
ever, upon submitting it to a new analysis, discovered, what had not
before been suspected, viz. that oxygen enters into its composition,
and further experiments have shewn that its base is of a metallic na-
ture. Thus, the analogy which connects all the substances, distin-
guished by the important chemical property of neutralising acids, into
one series, is extended to their composition; and all the salifiable bases,
as they have been named, comprehending the alkalies, earths, and me-
tallic oxydes, are shewn to be of similar chemical constitution. This
must be regarded as a most happy generalization established by the
genius and labour of one philosopher.
Tag
The experiment which exhibited to this great chemist the decompo-
sition of one of the fixed alkalies is thus described by himself:
small piece of pure potass, sufficiently moistened by the atmospheric
air to give a conducting power to the surface, was placed upon an in-
sulated disk of platina, connected with the negative side of the battery,
in a state of intense activity, and a platina wire, communicating with
the positive side, was brought in contact with the upper surface of the
alkali. Under these circumstances, a vivid action was soon observed
to take place. The potass began to fuse at both its points of electriza-
tion. There was a violent effervescence at the upper surface; at the
lower, or negative surface, there was no liberation of elastic fluid; but
small globules, having a high metallic lustre, and being precisely simi-
lar in visible characters to quicksilver, appeared; some of these burnt
with an explosion and bright flame as soon as they were formed, and
others remained, were tarnished, and finally covered by a white film
which formed on their surfaces."
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The platina was found to have no share in the production of this
new metallic substance, as it was equally produced when other metals,
or even charcoal, were employed for completing the electrical circuit.
By these analytic experiments, potass is proved to be a compound of
a peculiar substance, highly inflammable, and having metallic lustre
*

3 P
47+
'GALVANISM.
and oxygen. This has likewise been confirmed by further experiments
It is found that the pure alkaline substance consists of about 86 parts.
of metallic base, and 14 of oxygen. The metallic base has been named
by the discoverer-Potassium: this substance at the temperature of 60°.
of Fahrenheit appears in small globules, very like the globules of
quicksilver; and at this temperature it is imperfectly fluid: but at 700
it is more liquid and mobile; and at 100° it is so completely fluid that
the different globules easily run into one. At 50° it becomes solid
and malleable, and at 32° it is harder, and even brittle, displaying,
when broken, a chrystallized texture. Though so fusible, it is not
very volatile, but requires a temperature approaching to a red heat to
convert it into vapour. It is a perfect conductor of electricity, and is
a good conductor of heat. In regard to its specific gravity, it is lighter
than water, or even alcohol, or ether, being in respect to water in the
proportion of 6 to 10. In its solid form it is rather heavier.


Potassium, when brought into contact with water, decomposes it
with great violence; an explosion is produced with flame, and potass
is again formed. Placed on ice, it instantly burns with a bright flame,
melting the ice. So strong is the action of this substance on water,
that it discovers, by the decomposition which it produces, the smallest
quantity of water in other liquids, as in alcohol, or ether.-These are
some of the remarkable properties of potassium.

Previously to Sir Humphrey Davy's discoveries, the nature of soda,
the other fixed alkali, was as completely unknown as that of potass;
but when a small portion of this substance was submitted to the action
of the galvanic battery, in the same way as the potass had been ope-
rated upon, the result was similar, viz., globules of a metallic appear-
ance were produced at the negative surface, which often burnt at the
moment of their formation, and sometimes exploded with violence, se-
parating into smaller globules, which darted through the air in a state
of vivid combustion. When they were produced, an aëriform fluid was
disengaged at the positive surface, which proved to be pure oxygen.
To effect this decomposition, a greater intensity of galvanic action was
required than was necessary to decompose potass: The reproduction
of soda from this substance was similar to that of the potass from the
metallic base of that alkali. When the base of soda was exposed to
the air, a crust of alkali formed on its surface, and oxygene was absorb-
ed. When heated in a portion of oxygen gas, a rapid combustion took
place, accompanied with a brilliant white flame, and soda was produced
in the state of a solid white mass. The philosopher found that 100
parts of soda consist of about 78.5 of base, and 21-5 of oxygen; of
course the metallic base of soda combines with a larger proportion of oxy-
gen than the base of potass. This base, from its analogy to metals,
was named by the discoverer sodium. It is, in appearance, white and
opaque, something like silver. It is exceeding malleable, and much
softer than any of the common metallic substances. When pressed
upon by a blade of platina with a small force, it spreads into thin
leaves, and a globule of the one-tenth or one-twelfth of an inch in dia-
meter is easily spread over a surface of a quarter of an inch. It is a
good conductor of heat and electricity. Its specific gravity is less than
that of water, or nearly in the proportion of 9 to 10. When sodium
is exposed to the atmosphere, it immediately tarnishes, and by degrees
becomes covered with a white crust, which diliquesces much more
庸
​


*
GALVANISM.
475
slowly than the substance which forms on the base of potass. This
crust is very pure soda. It combines slowly with oxygen, and with-
out any luminous appearance, at common temperatures; and when
heated, this combination becomes more rapid; but no light is emitted
till it has acquired a temperature nearly that of ignition. The flame that is
produced in oxygen-gas is white, and it sends forth bright sparks; in
common air, it burns with light of the colour of that produced during
the combustion of charcoal, but brighter. When thrown upon water,
it produces a violent effervescence, with a loud hissing noise; it com-
bines with the oxygen of the water, and forms soda, which is dissolved,
and the hydrogen of the fluid escapes.
Sodium, when thrown upon strong acids, acts upon them with great
energy. It combines with metals; and in the quantity of only one-
fortieth part, it renders mercury a fixed solid of the colour of silver,
and the combination is attended with a considerable degree of heat.
It makes an alloy with tin, and it acts upon gold and lead when
heated.
L
Ammonia was regarded as a compound of hydrogen and oxygen;
and it has been found by Sir Humphrey Davy to be a compound of
oxygen and a metallic base, possessing the most curious properties.
Among others it combines with mercury, and renders that fluid metal
solid, though only the twelve-thousandth part of the ammonium be
used with the mercury; it not only renders the compound solid, but
has the effect of reducing the specific gravity from 13, which is that of
pure mercury, to 3. In this discovery he was, in some degree, preceded
by the Swedish chemists, who from their experiments, to which they
had been led by those of Davy, inferred the metallic nature of the
base of ammonia, from which they concluded that of the two gases
which constitute that alkali.
The discoveries of our English chemist being announced to the pub-
lic, the experiments which led to them were soon repeated by the
philosophers of other countries; and it was unexpectedly found by the
chemists of France, that the decomposition of the alkalies was easier
than was at first imagined, and might be effected by other ways than
electric agency.
The galvanic battery being applied to lime, strontites, and barytes,
in the same manner as it had been to the alkalies, a decomposition was
observed to take place. Gas was evolved, and metallic globules were
produced in contact with the negative wires. But this process could
not be completed so as to shew the nature of the products in a satisfac-
tory manner, Potassium, being heated in contact with the alkaline
earths, seemed to act upon them, but not to effect their decomposi-
tion. Mixtures of potass with the earths, acted upon by the galvanic
battery, shewed signs of decomposition. Metallic bodies were produced,
less fusible than potassium, burning immediately after their formation,
and reproducing the mixture of the alkali and earth employed. While
our author was engaged in repeating and varying his attempts to ef-
fect the decomposition more readily, he received a letter from Profes-
sor Berzelius of Stockholm, stating, that he and Dr. Pontin had com-
pleted the process with great ease by other means.

By combining the Swedish method with his own, Sir H. Davy ob-
tained, in considerable quantities, the amalgams of mercury and the
bases of the earths. He placed on platina a mixture of the earths, on
1
1
476
GALVANISM.
which his trials were to be made, and the oxyde of mercury; in this
mixture he made a cavity, in which he poured a globule of mercury,
and then by the action of the battery it was converted into the amal-
gam required. The metallic bases thus obtained, in general resemble
one another: they are solid, excepting at high temperatures: they are,
however, of a greater specific gravity than water; have a light me-
tallic lustre, resembling that of silver, and require a considerable force
to flatten them. When exposed to oxygen, they absorb it greedily and
return to their native earths.
With silex, argil, zircon, and glucine, the success was much less
perfect; but when they were submitted to the action of galvanism,
combined with potass and soda in fusion, appearances were obtained
which indicated their decomposition, and the production of bases of a
metallic nature. Hence it is inferred that all the earths are compounds
of bases somewhat analogous to those of the fixed alkalies.
.
We may give the analysis of the earth barytes as an illustration of
the methods adopted in the case of the others. Sir H. Davy, by pla-
cing barytes slightly moistened, either alone or mixed with potass, in
the galvanic circuit, obtained indistinct appearances of metallization
1;
but the complete reduction was best obtained, as has been remarked,
in the mode of experiment performed by Berzelius and Pontin, nega-
tively electrifying the earth in contact with quicksilver. On repeating
this experiment with a powerful galvanic battery, it was found that
'the mercury became less fluid: on exposing this amalgam to the air, it
was covered with a film of barytes; and when thrown into water, hy-
drogen was disengaged, and barytes formed: a similar result was
obtained from some of the saline combinations of barytes, as the mu-
riate.
-
Sir H. Davy, having found that the presence of an oxyde of mercury
favoured the decomposition of barytes, combined this method with that
of the Swedish chemists. The earth slightly moistened, and mixed
with one-third of red oxyde of mercury, was placed on a plate of pla-
tina, having a cavity to receive a globule of mercury; the whole was
covered by a film of naphtha, and the plate was made positive, the
mercury negative, by communication with a very powerful galvanic
battery. An amalgam was thus obtained; and to procure from this
the base of the barytés it was distilled in a tube of glass, bent in the
middle, and enlarged, and rendered globular at each extremity, so as
to form a kind of retort and receiver; a little naphtha too having been
introduced into the tube, and boiled, so as to exclude the air. The
quicksilver rose pure by distillation; but it was very difficult to obtain
a complete decomposition, a red heat being required for this, and at this
heat the base of the earth acted on the glass. The result, therefore,
was less perfect than those with regard to the bases of the alkalies; and
there remained the uncertainty but that the metallic base procured might
have retained in combination a little quicksilver. To the metallic mat-
ter obtained from barytes, Sir H. Davy has given the name of barium.
I
Barium, as obtained by the experiment above described, appeared as
a white metal of the colour of silver. It was fixed at all common tem-
peratures, but became fluid at a heat below redness, and did not rise
in vapour when heated to a redness in a tube of glass. It acted, how-
ever, violently on the glass, producing a black mass, which seemed to
contain barytes and a fixed alkaline base in the first degree of oxygen-
1
14
GALVANISM.
477
;
ation. When exposed to air, it rapidly tarnished, and fell into a white
powder, which was barytes; and when this process was conducted in
a small portion of air, oxygen was absorbed. When the base was dropt
in water, it acted on it with great violence, sunk to the bottom, pro-
ducing barytes, and generating hydrogen gas.. It not only sunk in
water, but even in sulphuric acid, though surrounded by globules of
hydrogen: hence it is concluded that it cannot be less than four or five
times heavier than water. Whether it owe this in part to a little
mercury combined with it, is uncertain. It flattened by pressure, but
required for this purpose a considerable force.
?
Our chemist endeavoured to ascertain the proportions of base and of
oxygen in the composition of barytes, but without success.
He ascer-
tained, however, that when burned in a small quantity of air, it ab-
sorbed oxygen, gained weight in the process,, and the earth produced
was in the driest state. The conclusion follows, therefore, that barytes
is a compound of this base with oxygen.
The decomposition of strontites was effected by the same modes of
galvanic analysis, as those applied to the other earths. By negatively.
electrifying it in contact with mercury, the phenomena denoting the
decomposition of the earth, and the addition of metallic matter to the
mercury, rapidly took place; and by employing the process, which has
just been described with respect to barytes, the metallic base of strontites
was obtained. Strontium, for so this base was named, has the general
characters of the base resulting from barytes; and by exposure to the
air, it absorbs the oxygen from it, gains weight, and is converted to
the original earth. It is of a considerable specific gravity. Without
pursuing the analysis of the other earths, which would be but a repe-
tition, or at least with very little variation, of what has already been
said, we may conclude our account of the brilliant discoveries of Sir
Humphery, which do so much honour to the present era, with observ-
ing, that one object of research was suggested to our author by a very
important experiment of the Swedish chemists, already mentioned:
"These ingenious philosophers found that mercury, placed in contact
with a solution of ammonia, and negatively electrified, expands in vo-
lume, and becomes a soft solid; that this solid, on exposure to air,
absorbs oxygen, and reproduces ammonia and mercury; that water
is decompounded by it, giving out hydrogen gas, and leaving a solu-
tion of ammonia and mercury. The conclusion naturally drawn from
this curious experiment was, that ammonia is, as Sir H. Davy himself
had formerly supposed, an oxyde with a double basis, composed of
hydrogen and nitrogen; but it seems to shew also, that this double
basis possesses metallic properties. So unexpected a light could not
fail to attract the quick and discerning eyes of our author; and he
lost no time in pursuing the track into which it plainly led him. His
first repetition of the Swedish experiment suggested a very material im-
provement on it-the substitution of neutral salt of ammonia, whereby
the deoxygenation and amalgamation are effected in the nascent state
of that alkali, and are consequently more easily performed. His pro-
cess was thus the same with that formerly described for deoxygenating
the earths; only, that instead of sulphates or muriates of those earths,
he exhibited muriate of ammonia. The action,' says he, of the
quicksilver on the salt was immediate. A strong effervescence, with
much heat, took place. The globule in a few minutes had enlarged
C
1


478
GALVANISM.
to five times its former dimensions, and had the appearance of an amal-
gam of zinc; and metallic chrystallizations shot from it as a cen-
tre, round the body of the salt. They had an arborescent appearance ;
often became coloured at their points of contact with the muriate; and,
when the connection was broken, rapidly disappeared, emitting am-
moniacal fumes, and reproducing quicksilver. Carbonate of ammonia
gave the same result; only that a manifest decomposition of the acid,
and production of carbonaceous matter, accompanies the other pheno-
mena in this case. The bases of the alkalies and earths, united with
mercury, and exhibited in this state to ammonia, supplied the place of
electricity, and formed an amalgam of the bases of ammonia and
mercury. A little of the bases here used for the purpose of deoxygen-
ating the ammonia, adhered to it in the amalgam; but, independently
of this consideration, our author seems to think that the experiment in
question unites more of the ammoniacal basis to mercury than the pro-
cess of deoxygenation by electricity. He does not mention, though we
must présume, that, in this ingenious and beautiful experiment, the
fixed alkalies or earths are produced.
"The singular amalgam discovered by the Swedish chemists may
thus be obtained with great ease either by the agency of electricity, or
by double elective affinity. But our author preferred the former method,
because it is not attended with the admixture of any third substance,
giving the amalgam composed solely of mercury, and the bases of am-
monia. Having procured a sufficient quantity of it in this way, he ex-
amined it by various simple and satisfactory trials. Its principal
properties are the following:-At 70° or 80° this body has the con-
sistence of butter; at the freezing point it hardens and chrystallizes;
it is not quite three times heavier than water. In water it absorbs
oxygen, causing hydrogen gas to be evolved. In air it likewise ab-
sorbs oxygen; and, in both cases, ammonia and quicksilver are re-
produced. In sulphuric acid it becomes coated with sulphate of am-
monia and sulphur. Sixty grains of mercury are amalgamated by one-
two-hundredth part of a grain of the compound basis, or one-twelve-
thousandth of the weight of the mercury."-Phil. Trans. part ii. 1808.
+
This valuable paper our author concludes with some general specu-
lations concerning the theory of alkaline and earthy bodies, as elucidat-
ed by the discoveries which we have now considered. His observations
are always ingenious; and whatever comes from so great a discoverer,
one so strict in his experimental investigations, and so successful in
generalizing them, ought to be received with singular respect. Never-
theless, we shall not follow him through the whole of his queries and
reflections, highly useful as they are likely to prove. We shall only
state what we conceive to be the legitimate inferences from his expe-
riments, and then notice a few of his most prominent observations.--
It is clearly proved that the fixed alkalies, and the alkaline earths, are
metallic oxydes; and the proportion of their bases is nearly as well
ascertained as those of several metals known for ages to philosophers,
and in common life. That alumina, zircon, glucine, and silex, are also
metallic oxydes, seems highly probable; but their decomposition has
not yet been so completely effected as to render this point altogether
certain; and respecting the metals which seem to constitute their ba-
ses, we can scarcely be said to know any thing with precision. It is
demonstrated that ammonia is a compound of oxygen, with hydrogen

<<


I
GALVANISM.
479

C
and nitrogen; and that when the oxygen is removed, the hydrogen and
nitrogen are capable of entering into a true chemical union with mer-
cury, forming a substance in all respects similar to the amalgams of that
body with other metals. It is highly probable, that the hydrogen and
nitrogen are united together as a chemical compound, which thus
unites with mercury; and that the same compound unites with oxygen
to form ammonia. The appearance of amalgamation, as well as the
analogy of the other alkaline bodies, leads us to suspect that this com
pound basis is truly of a metallic nature, and that the volatile, like
the fixed alkalies and the alkaline earths, is a metallic oxyde; but this
basis has not yet been separately exhibited. Such, in general, is the
state of our knowledge upon the constitution of the alkalies and earths,
as extended by the late wonderful discoveries; and such is the line to
be drawn between what we have strictly learned as physical truths, and
what we have been taught to conjecture upon evidence of a lower na-
ture than that of legitimate induction.
The last of these wonders, the constitution of ammonia, gives rise
to various hypotheses. To account for the phenomena of amalgamation
with mercury and the reproduction of the alkali, three different theories
have been stated. Mr. Davy himself seems to think it possible, that
hydrogen and nitrogen are both metals, aëriform at common tempera-
tures, as zinc and mercury are when ignited. Mr. Berzelius suggests,
that they may be simple bodies, not metallic, but forming a metal when
united, without oxygen; and an alkali, when united and oxygenated.
Mr. Cavendish has submitted a third conjecture, that these gases, in
their common form, may be oxydes, which, when further oxygenated,
become metallic.
The labours of Sir Humphrey Davy in this department of science
have been unwearied, but they have been crowned with a degree of
success, and with discoveries of such importance as no one could have
anticipated. Let us consider what we should have said, had such a con
tribution to chemical knowledge (as that in the Phil. Trans. 1809) fallofft
in our way ten years ago—had we for instance heard that the basis of the
boracic acid had been discovered, that hydrogen had been detected in sul-
phur and phosphorus, and oxygen in azote? The whole world of letters
would have been in commotion, and it would have been universally al-
lowed, that, since the establishment of modern chemistry, no such steps
had been made towards its perfection. If we now think less of these im-
provements, or even receive them with coldness, it is because we have
been spoiled with the abundance of capital discoveries in which we have
been revelling-and it is Davy himself who has spoiled us.
His grand
and numerous inventions, together with the two uriexpected and im-
portant steps made by the French and Swedish chemists, have, for a
while, so completely satiated the curiosity of the scientific world, that
scarcely any new fact would now excite astonishment.
480
DYEING.
:
CHAP. IX,
!
DYEING.
THE substances commonly employed, for clothing may be reduced to
four: wool, silk, cotton, and linen.
Permanent alterations in the colour of cloth can only be produced two
ways; either by producing a chemical change in the cloth, or by co-
vering its fibres with some substance which possesses the wished-for.
colour. Recourse can seldom or never be had to the first of these me-.
thods, because it is hardly possible to produce a chemical change in the
fibres of cloth without spoiling its texture, and rendering it useless.
The dyer, therefore, when he wishes to give a new colour to cloth, has
always recourse to the second method.
The substances employed for this purpose are called colouring matters,
or dye stuffs: they are for the most part extracted from animal and ve-
getable substances, and have usually the colour they give to the cloth.
Hence as the particles of colouring matter, with which cloth when dyed is
covered, are transparent, it follows, that all the light reflected from dyed
cloth must be reflected, not by the dye stuff itself, but by the fibres of
the cloth below the dye stuff. The colour, therefore, does not depend
upon the dye alone, but also on the previous colour of the cloth. If
the cloth be black, it is clear that we cannot dye it any other colour
whatever because as no light in that case is reflected, none can be
transmitted, whatever dye stuff we employ. If the cloth were red, or
blue, or yellow, we could not dye it any colour except black, because
as only blue or red or yellow rays were reflected, no other could be
transmitted. Hence the importance of a fine white colour when cloth
is to receive bright dyes. It then reflects all the rays in abundance,
and therefore any colour may be given, by covering it with a dye stuff
which transmits only some particular rays.
:
!
·
If the colouring matters were merely spread over the surface of the
fibres of cloth by the dyer, the colours produced might be very bright,
but they could not be permanent; because the colouring matter would
be very soon rubbed off; and would totally disappear whenever the
cloth was washed, or even barely exposed to the weather. The co-
louring matter then, however perfect a colour it possesses, is of no va-
lue, unless it also adheres so firmly to the cloth that none of the sub-
stances usually applied to cloth, in order to clean it, &c. can displace
it. Now this can only happen, when there is a strong affinity between
the colouring matter and the cloth, and when they are actually com-
bined together in consequence of that affinity.
Dyeing then is merely a chemical process, and consists in combining
a certain colouring matter with fibres of cloth. This process can in no
instance be performed, unless the dye stuff be first reduced to its integ-
rant particles; for the attraction of aggregation between the particles
of dye stuffs is too great to be overcome by the affinity between them
and the cloth, unless they could be brought within much smaller dis-
tances than is possible while they both remain in a solid form. It is
necessary, therefore, previously to dissolve the colouring matter in some
liquid or other, which has a weaker affinity for it than the cloth has.
•
DYEING.
481
•
When the cloth is dipped into this solution, the colouring matter, re-
duced by this contrivance to a liquid state, is brought within the at-
tracting distance; the cloth therefore acts upon it, and from its stronger
affinity, takes it from the solvent, and fixes it upon itself. By this con-
trivance too, the equality of the colour is in some measure secured, as
every part of the cloth has an opportunity of attracting to itself the pro-
per proportion of colouring particles.
The facility with which cloth imbibes a dye depends upon two
things; namely, the affinity between the cloth and the dye stuff, and the
affinity between the dye stuff and its solvent. It is directly as the
former, and inversely as the latter. It is of importance to preserve a
due proportion between these two affinities, as upon that proportion
much of the accuracy of dyeing depends. If the affinity between the
colouring matter and the cloth be too great, compared with the affinity
between the colouring matter and the solvent, the cloth will take the
dye too rapidly, and it will be scarcely possible to prevent its colour
from being unequal. On the other hand, if the affinity between the
colouring matter and the solvent be too great, compared with that be-
tween the colouring matter and the cloth, the cloth will either not take
the colour at all, or it will take it very, slowly and very faintly.


→
Wool has the strongest affinity for almost all colouring matters, silk
the next strongest, cotton a considerably weaker affinity, and linen the
weakest affinity of all. Therefore in order to dye cotton or linen, the
dye stuff should in many cases be dissolved in a substance for which it
has a weaker affinity than for the solvent employed in the dyeing of
wool or silk. Thus we may use oxyde of iron dissolved in sulphuric
acid, in order to dye wool; but for cotton and linen, it is better to
dissolve it in acetous acid.
Were it possible to procure a sufficient number of colouring matters,
having a strong affinity for cloth, to answer all the purposes of dyeing,
that art would be exceedingly simple and easy. But this is by no
means the case; if we except indigo, the dyer is scarcely possessed of
a dye stuff which yields of itself a good colour, sufficiently permanent
to deserve the name of a dye.
This difficulty, which at first sight appears insurmountable, has been
obviated by a very ingenious contrivance. Some substance is pitched
upon, which has a strong affinity, both for the cloth and the colouring
matter. This substance is previously combined with cloth, which is
then dipped into the solution containing the dye stuff. The dye stuff
combines with the intermediate substance, which being firmly combin-
ed with the cloth, secures the permanence of the dye. Substances em-
ployed for this purpose are denominated mordants,
The most important part of dyeing is undoubtedly the proper choice,
and the proper application of mordants, as upon them the permanency
of almost every dye depends. Every thing which has been said re-
specting the application of colouring matters, applies equally to the
application of mordants. They must be previously dissolved in some
liquid, which has a weaker affinity to them than the cloth has, to which
they are to be applied; and the cloth must be dipped, or even steeped
in this solution, in order to saturate itself with the mordant.
Almost the only substances used as mordants, are earths, metallic
oxydes, tan, and oil.
Of earthy mordants the most important, and most generally used, is
3 Q
482
DYEING.
alumine. It is used either in the state of common alum, in which it is
combined with sulphuric acid, or in that of acetite of aluinine,
j'
Alum, when used as a mordant, is dissolved in water, and very fre-
quently a quantity of tartar is dissolved along with it. Into this solu
tion the cloth is put, and kept in it till it has absorbed as much alu-
mine as is necessary. It is then taken out, and for the most part
washed and dried. It is now a good deal heavier than it was before,
owing to the alumine which has combined with it. The tartar serves
two purposes; the potass which it contains combines with the sulphu-
ric acid of the alum, and thus prevents that very corrosive substance
from injuring the texture of the cloth, which otherwise might happen.
the tartareous acid, on the other hand, combines with part of the alu-
mine, and forms a tartrite of alumine, which is more easily decomposed
by the cloth than alum.

mmm!
<
Acetite of alumine has been but lately introduced into dyeing. This
mordant is now prepared by pouring acetite of lead into a solution of
alum; a double decomposition takes place, the sulphureous acid com-
bines with the lead, and the compound precipitates, in the form of ar
insoluble powder, while the alumine combines with the acetous acid,
and remains dissolved in the liquid. This mordant is employed for
cotton and linen, which have a weaker affinity than wool for alumine.
It answers much better than alum; the cloth is more easily saturated
¨with alumine, and takes, in consequence, both a richer and a more per-
manent colour.
1.
I
ト ​O
Besides alumine, lime is sometimes used as a mordant. Cloth has a
strong enough affinity for it; but, in general, it does not answer so well,
as it does not give so good a colour. When used, it is either in the
state of lime-water, or of sulphate of lime dissolved in water.
*
Almost all the metallic oxydes have an affinity for cloth, but only
two of them are extensively used as mordants, namely, the oxydes of
tin, and of iron.
}
4
The oxyde of tin was first introduced into dyeing by Kuster, a Ger-
man chemist, who brought the secret to London in 1543. This period
forms an era in the history of dyeing. The oxyde of tin has enabled
the moderns greatly to surpass the ancients in the fineness of their co-
lours; by means of it alone, scarlet, the brightest of all colours, is pro-
duced.
༔
...
>
:
7
Tin, as Proust has proved, is capable of two degrees of oxydation.
The first oxyde is composed of 0.70 parts of tin, and 0.50 of oxygen;
the second, or white oxyde, of 0.60 parts of tin, and 0.40 of oxygen.
"The first oxyde absorbs oxygen with very great facility, even from the
air, and is rapidly converted into white oxyde. This fact makes it cer-
tain, that it is the white oxyde of tin alone which is the real mordant ;
even if the other oxyde were applied to cloth, as it probably often is,
it must soon be converted into white oxyde, by absorbing oxygen from
the atmosphere.

Tin is used as a mordant in three states dissolved in nitro-muriatic
acid, in acetous acid, and in a mixture of sulphuric and muriatic acids.
Nitro muriate of tin is the common mordant employed by dyers. They
prepare it by dissolving tin in diluted nitric acid, to which a certain
proportion of muriate of soda, or of ammonia, is added. Part of the
nitric acid decomposes these salts, combines with their base, and sets
the muriatic acid at liberty. They prepared it at first with nitric acid
*
¡
DYEING.
480
+
alone, but that mode was very defective, because the nitric acid very
readily converts tin to white oxyde, and then is capable of dissolving it.
The consequence of which was, the precipitation of the whole of the
tin. To remedy this defect, common salt, or sal ammoniac, was very
soon added; muriatic acid having the property of dissolving white
oxyde of tin very readily. A considerable saving of nitric acid might
be obtained, by employing as much sulphuric acid as is just sufficient
to saturate the base of the common salt, or sal ammoniac employed.
.:
1
When the nitro muriate, of tin is to be used as a mordant, it is dis-
solved in a large quantity of water, and the cloth is dipped in the so-
lution, and allowed to remain till sufficiently saturated. It is then taken
out, washed, and dried. Tartar is usually dissolved in the water along
with the nitro-muriate. The consequence of this is a double decompo
sition; the nitro-muriatic acid combines with the potass of the tartar,
while the tartareous acid dissolves the oxyde of tin. When tartar is
used, therefore, in any considerable quantity, the mordant is not a nitro-
muriate, but a tartrite of tin.
ܐ
+
1
A
Iron, like tin, is capable of two degrees of oxydation; but the green
oxyde absorbs, oxygen so readily from the atmosphere, that it is very
soon converted into the red oxyde. It is only this last oxyde, which is
really used as a mordant in dyeing. The green oxyde is, indeed, some
times applied to cloth; but it very soon absorbs oxygen, and is con-
verted into the red oxyde. This oxyde has a very strong affinity for
all kinds of cloth. The permanency of the iron spots on linen and cot-
ton is a sufficient proof of this. As a mordant, it is used in two states;
in that of sulphate of iron, and acetite of iron. The first is commonly
used for wool. The salt is dissolved in water, and the cloth dipped in
it. It may be used also for cotton, but in most cases acetite of iron is
preferred. It is prepared by dissolving iron, or its oxyde, in vinegar,
sour beer, &c. and the longer it is kept, the more it is preferred. The
reason is, that the mordant succeeds best when the iron is in the state
of red oxyde. It would be better then to oxydate the iron, or convert
it into rust, before using it; which might easily be done, by keeping
it for some time in a moist place, and sprinkling it occasionally with
water.
-
...
؛؛
15.
+
Tan has a very strong affinity for cloth, and for several colouring
matters; it is therefore very frequently employed as a mordant: An
infusion of nut-galls or of shumack, or any other substance containing.
tan, is made in water, and the cloth is dipped in this infusion, and al
lowed to remain till it has absorbed a sufficient quantity of tan. Silk is
capable of absorbing a very great proportion of tan, and by that means
acquires a great increase of weight. Manufacturers sometimes employ
this method of increasing the weight of silk.
Tan is often employed also, along with other mordants, in order to
produce a compound mordant Oil is also used for the same purpose,
in the dyeing of cotton and linen. The mordants with which tan most
frequently is combined, are alumine, and oxyde of iron.
Besides these mordants, there are several other substances frequently
used as auxiliaries, either to facilitate the combination of the mordant
with the cloth, or to alter the shade of colour; the chief of these are,
tartar, acetite of lead, common salt, sal ammoniac, sulphate or acetité of
copper, &c.
Mordants not only render the dye permanent, but have also consi-
↓
+


484
DYEING.
t
}
derable influence on the colour produced. The same colouring matter
produces very different dyes, according as the mordant is changed.
Suppose, for instance, that the colouring matter be cochineal; if we
use the aluminous mordant, the cloth will acquire a crimson colour;
but the oxyde of iron produces with it a black.
1
In dyeing, then, it is not only necessary to procure a mordant which
has a sufficiently strong affinity for the colouring matter and the cloth,
and a colouring matter which possesses the wished-for colour in perfec-
tion, but we must procure a mordant and a colouring matter of such
a nature, that when combined together, they shall possess the wished-
for colour in perfection. It is evident too, that a great variety of co-
lours may be produced with a single dye stuff, provided we can change
the mordant sufficiently.

The colouring matter with which the cloth is dyed, does not cover
every portion of its surface; its particles attach themselves to the cloth
at certain distances from each other; for cloth may be dyed different
shades of the same colour, lighter or darker, merely by varying the
quantity of colouring matter. With a small quantity, the shade is
light; and it becomes deeper as the quantity increases: now this would
be impossible, if the dye stuff covered the whole of the cloth.
That the particles of colouring matter, even when the shade is deep,
are at some distance, is evident from this well known fact, that cloth
may be dyed two colours at the same time. All those colours to which
the dyers give the name of compound, are in fact two different co-
lours applied to the cloth at once. Thus cloth gets a green colour, by
being first dyed blue, and then yellow.
The colours denominated by dyers simple, because they are the
foundation of all their other processes, are four; namely, first, blue;
second yellow; third, red; fourth, black. To these they usually add
a fifth, under the name of root, or brown colour.
Of Dyeing Blue.
The only colouring matters employed in dyeing blue are woad and
indigo.
Woad is a plant cultivated in this kingdom, and even growing wild
in some parts of England.
**
Indigo is a blue powder, extracted from a species of plants which is
cultivated for that purpose in the East and West Indies. These plants
contain a peculiar green pollen, which in that state is soluble in water.
This pollen has a strong affinity for oxygen, which it attracts greedily
from the atmosphere; in consequence of which it assumes a blue co-
lour, and becomes insoluble in water.
Indigo has a very strong affinity for wool, silk, cotton, and linen.
Every kind of cloth, therefore, may be dyed with it, without the assist-
ance of any mordant whatever. The colour thus induced is very per-
manent; because the indigo is already saturated with oxygen, and be-
cause it is not liable to be decomposed by those substances, to the action
of which the cloth is exposed. But it can only be applied to cloth in a
state of solution; and the only soivent known being sulphuric acid, it
would seem at first sight, that the sulphuric acid solution is the only
state in which indigo can be employed as a dye.
DYEING.
485
Wool and silk are often dyed blue by the sulphate of indigo; but it
can scarcely be applied to cotton and linen, because the affinity of
these substances for indigo is not great enough to enable them readily
to decompose the sulphate. The colour given by sulphate of indigo
is exceedingly beautiful: it is known by the name of Saxon blue.
One part of indigo is to be dissolved in four parts of concentrated
sulphuric acid; to the solution one part of dry carbonate of potass is
to be added, and then it is to be diluted with eight times its weight
of water. The cloth must be boiled for an hour in a solution, contain-
ing five parts of alum and three of tartar for every 32 parts of cloth.
It is then to be thrown into a water bath, containing a greater or
smaller proportion of the diluted sulphate of indigo, according to the
shade which the cloth is intended to receive. In this bath it must be
boiled till it has acquired the wished-for colour.
The alum and tartar are not intended to act as mordants, but to fa-
cilitate the decomposition of the sulphate of indigo. The alkali, ad-
ded to the sulphate, answers the same purpose. These substances also,
by saturating part of the sulphuric acid, serve in some measure to
prevent the texture of the cloth from being injured by the action of the
acid, which is very apt to happen in this process.

But sulphate of indigo is by no means the only solution of that pig-
ment employed in dyeing. By far the most common method is, to de-
prive indigo of the oxygen, to which it owes its blue colour, and
thus to reduce it to the state of green pollen: and then to dissolve it
in water by means of alkalies, or alkaline earths, which in that state
act upon it very readily.
Two different methods are employed for this purpose. The first of
these methods is, to mix with indigo a solution of some substance
which has a stronger affinity for oxygen than the green bases of in-
digo; green oxyde of iron, for instance, and different metallic sul-
phurets. If, therefore, indigo, lime, and green sulphate of iron, be
mixed together in water, the indigo gradually loses its blue colour, be-
comes green, and is dissolved; while the green oxyde of iron is con-
verted into the red oxyde. The manner in which these changes take
place is obvious; part of the lime decomposes the sulphate of iron
the green oxyde, the instant that it is set at liberty, attracts oxygen
from the indigo, decomposes it, and reduces it to the state of green
pollen. This green pollen is immediately dissolved by the action of
the rest of the lime.
The second method is, to mix the indigo in water with certain ve-
getable substances, which readily undergo fermentation. During this
fermentation, the indigo is deprived of its oxygen, and dissolved by
means of quick-lime or alkali, which is added to the solution. The
first of these methods is usually followed in dyeing cotton and linen;
the second in dyeing wool and silk.
In the dyeing of wool, woad and bran are commonly employed as
vegetable ferments, and lime as the solvent of the green base of the
indigo. Woad contains itself a colouring matter precisely similar to
indigo; by following the common process, indigo may be extracted
from it. In the usual state of woad, when purchased by the dyer,
the indigo which it contains is probably not far from the state of the
green pollen. Its quantity in woad is but small, and it is mixed with
a great proportion of other vegetable matter.
486
DYEING.
+
- When the cloth is first taken out of the vat, it is of a green colour;
but it soon becomes blue by attracting oxygen from the air. It ought
to be carefully washed to carry off the uncombined particles. This
solution of indigo is liable to two inconveniences: first, it is apt some-
times to run too fast into the putrid fermentation; this may be known
by the putrid vapours which it exhales, and by the disappearing of the
green colour. In this state it would soon destroy the indigo altoge-
ther. The inconvenience is remedied by adding more lime, which has
the property of moderating the putrescent tendency. Secondly, some-
times the fermentation goes on too languidly. This defect is remedied
by adding more bran or woad in order to diminish the proportion of
quick-lime.

Silk is died light blue by a ferment of six parts of bran, six of in-
digo, six of potass, and one of madder. To dye it of a dark blue, it
must previously receive what is called a ground colour; archil is used
for this purpose.
Cotton and linen are dyed blue by a solution of one part of indigo,
one part of green sulphate of iron, and two parts of quick-lime.
Of Dyeing Yellow.
of
The principal colouring matters for dyeing yellow are weld, fustic,
and quercitron bark.
Weld is a plant which grows commonly in this country.
Fustic is the wood of a large tree which grows in the West Indies.
Quercitron is a tree growing naturally in North America, the bark
of which contains colouring matter.
***
1
Yellow colouring matters have too weak an affinity for cloth to pro-
duce permanent colours without the use of mordants. Cloth, there-
fore, before it be dyed yellow, is always prepared by combining some
mordant or other with it. The mordant most commonly employed
for this purpose is alumine. Oxyde of tin is sometimes used when
very fine yellows are wanting. Tan is often employed as a subsidi-
ary to alumine, and in order to fix it more copiously on cotton and
linen. Tartar is also used as an auxiliary to brighten the colour; and
muriate of soda, sulphate of lime, and even sulphate of iron, in order
to render the shade deeper. T
VOY SAT
#
1
| A
:
The yellow dyed by means of fustic is more permanent, but not so
beautiful as that given by weld or quercitron. As it is permanent, and
not much injured by acids, it is often used in dyeing compound co-
lours where a yellow is required. The mordant is alumine. When
the mordant is oxyde of iron, fustic dyes a good permanent drab colour.
¿
Weld and quercitron bark yield nearly the same kind of colour;
but as the bark yields colouring matter in much greater abundance,
it is much more convenient, and, upon the whole, cheaper than weld.
It is probable, therefore, that it will gradually supersede the use of
that plant. The method of using each of the dye stuffs is nearly the
·
same.
✓
!
A
Wool may be dyed yellow by the following process: let it be boil-
ed for an hour or more with about one-sixth of its weight of alum,
dissolved in a sufficient quantity of water. It is then to be plunged,
without being rinsed, into a bath of warm water, containing in it as
1
DYEING.
487
+
much quercitron bark as equals the weight of the alum employed as
a mordant. The cloth is to be turned through the boiling liquid till
it has acquired the intended colour. Then a quantity of clean powder-
ed chalk, equal to the hundredth part of the weight of the cloth, is to
be stirred in, and the operation of dyeing continued for eight or ten
minutes longer. By this method a pretty deep and lively yellow may
be given, fully as permanent as weld yellow.
For very bright orange or golden yellow, it is necessary to have
recourse to the oxyde of tin as a mordant.
For producing bright golden yellows, some alum must be added
along with the tin.
In order to give the yellow that delicate green shade so much ad-
mired for certain purposes, tartar must be added in different proportions
according to the shade.
By adding a small proportion of cochineal, the colour may be raised
to a fine orange, or even an aurora.
Silk may be dyed different shades of yellow, either by weld or quer-
The proportion
citron bark, but the last is the cheapest of the two.
should be from one or two parts of bark to twelve parts. of silk, ac-
cording to the shade. The bark, tied up in a bag, should be put into
the dyeing vessel, while the water which it contains is cold; and when
it has acquired the heat of about 100º, the silk having been previously
alumed, should be dipped in, and continued till it assumes the wished-
for colour. When the shade is required to be deep, a little chalk or
pearl-ash should be added towards the end of the operation,
..


Cotton and linen are dyed yellow as follows:
The mordant should be acetite of alumine, prepared by dissolving
one part of acetite of lead, and three parts of alum, in a. sufficient
quantity of water. This solution, should be heated to the tempera-
ture of 100°, the cloth should be soaked in it for two hours, then
wrung out and dried. The soaking may be repeated, and the cloth
again dried as before. It is then to be barely wetted with lime water,
and afterwards dried. The soaking in the acetite of alumine may be
again repeated, and if the shade of yellow is required to be very bright
and durable, the alternate wetting with lime water and soaking in the
mordant may be repeated three or four times.
1
By this contrivance, a sufficient: quantity of alumine is combined
with the cloth, and the combination is rendered, more permanent by
the addition of some lime. The dyeing bath is prepared by putting
twelve or eighteen parts of quercitron bark (according to the depth
of the shade required), tied up in a bag, into a sufficient quantity of
cold water. Into this bath the cloth is to be put, and turned round
in it for an hour, while its temperature is gradually raised, to about
120°; it is then to be brought to a boiling heat, and the cloth al-
lowed to remain in it after that only a few minutes. If it be kept.
long at a boiling heat, the yellow acquires a shade of brown.
Nankeen yellow is obtained by a solution of the red sulphate of
iron, which is combined with, the cloth by carbonate of potass.
辈
​>
L
卓
​
+
488
DYEING.
Of Dyeing Red.
The colouring matters employed for dyeing red are kermes, cochi-
neal, archil, madder, carthamus, Brazil-wood, lac, and logwood.
Kermes is a species of insect, affording a red colour by solution in
water; but it is not so beautiful as cochineal, which is likewise an in-
sect brought from América. The decoction of cochineal is a very beau-
tiful crimson colour. Alum brightens the colour of the decoction, and
occasions a crimson precipitate. Muriate of tin gives a copious fine
red precipitate.
Archil is a paste formed of a species of lichen pounded, and kept
moist for some time with stale urine.
vant.
Madder is the root of a well known plant (rubia tinctorium).
Carthamus is the flower of a plant cultivated in Spain and the Le-
It contains two colouring matters: a yellow, which is soluble
in water; and a red, insoluble in water, but soluble in alkaline carbo-
nates. The red colouring matter of carthamus, extracted by carbonate
of soda, and precipitated by lemon juice, constitutes the rouge employ-
ed by ladies as a paint. It is afterwards ground with a certain quan-
tity of talc. The fineness of the talc, and the proportion of it mixed
with the carthamus, occasion the difference between the cheaper and
dearer kinds of rouge.
Brazil-wood is the wood of a tree growing in America and the West
Indies. Its decoction is a fine red colour.
None of the red colouring matters has so strong an affinity for
cloth as to produce a permanent red, without the assistance of mor-
dants. The mordants employed are alumine, and oxyde of tin; oil,
and tan, in certain processes, are also used; and tartar, and muriate›
of soda, are frequently called in as auxiliaries.
Lac is the production of an insect brought from india. The decoc-
tion of it in water gives a deep crimson colour.
Logwood, called also Campeachy-wood, is the wood that grows in
Jamaica and the bay of Campeachy. It gives out its colouring mat-
ter, which is of a fine red, copiously to alkohol, and more sparingly to
water.
Wool may be died red with madder or archil, but these are used
only for coarse woollen stuffs. The stuffs are first boiled for some
hours in alum and tartar, and then wrung out. After remaining some
days, they are boiled in a decoction of madder.
Scarlet is the most splendid of all reds, but is of different shades,
like other colours. Alumine was formerly used as a mordant for fix-
ing the cochineal which is used for dyeing red, but nitro-muriat of
tin is now employed for this purpose, as it gives a brighter colour to
the cochineal. To dye woollen cloth scarlet, it is first boiled in a bath
of pure tartar, to which a little cochineal has been added, and also ni-
tro-muriat of tin. After this it is well washed, and then subjected to
8 second bath of cochineal, which is called the reddening. Soine-
times they do not change the bath, but add the reddening to the first
bath.
As the red produced by cochineal alone is rather a crimson than a
bright scarlet, to produce the latter it is necessary first to dye the
cloth yellow, and after crimson, as bright scarlet is a compound
DYEING.
189.
of crimson and yellow. This is done by the use of fustic, turmeric, or
quercitron bark, in the first bath, to produce the yellow; the second
bath is cochineal alone, which naturally gives a crimson tinge.
When crimson is the colour required to be dyed, the tin mordant
is the best, but sometimes dyers use alum baths for this purpose, and
then a decoction of cochineal. The addition of archil and potass to
the cochineal renders the crimson darker, and gives it more bloom, but
this is very fugacious. For paler crimsons, a portion of madder is sub-
stituted for part of the cochineal.
Silk is usually dyed red with cochineal or carthamus, and sometimes
with Brazil-wood. Kermes does not answer for silk; madder is scarcely
ever used for that purpose, because it does not yield a colour bright
enough. Archil is employed to give silk a bloom; but it is scarcely
used by itself, unless when the colour wanted is lilac.
Silk may be dyed crimson by steeping it in a solution of alum, and
then dyeing it in the usual way in the cochineal bath.
The colours known by the names of poppy, cherry, rose, and flesh-
colour, are given to silk by means of carthamus. The process consists
merely in keeping the silk, as long as it extracts any colour, in an
alkaline solution of carthamus, into which as much lemon juice as
gives it a fine cherry colour, has been poured.
Silk cannot be dyed a full scarlet; but a colour approaching to scar-
let may be given it, by first impregnating the stuff with murio-sul-
phate of tin, and afterwards dyeing it in a bath composed of four parts
of cochineal, and four parts of quercitron bark. To give the colour
more body, both the mordant and the dye may be repeated. A colour.
approaching scarlet may be also given to silk by first dyeing it crim-
son, then dyeing it with carthamus, and lastly yellow without heat.
}
Cotton and linen are dyed red with madder. The process was
borrowed from the east. Hence the colour is often called Adrianople,
or Turkey-red. The cloth is first impregnated with oil, then with
galls, and lastly with alum. It is then boiled for an hour in a decoc-
tion of madder, which is commonly mixed with a quantity of blood.
After the cloth is dyed, it is plunged into a soda lye, in order to
brighten the colour. The red given by this process is very permanent,
and when properly conducted, it is exceedingly beautiful. The whole
difficulty consists in the application of the mordant, which is by far
the most complicated employed in the whole art of dyeing.
+
Cotton may be dyed scarlet by means of murio-sulphate of tin,
cochineal, and quercitron bark, used as for silk, but the colour is too
fading to be of any value.
•
1
¿
+
Of Dyeing Black.
The substances employed to give a black colour to cloth are, red
oxyde of iron and tan. These two substances have a strong affinity
for each other; and when combined, assume a deep black colour, not
liable to be destroyed by the action of air or light.
Logwood is usually employed as an auxiliary, because it communicates
lustre, and adds considerably to the fullness of the black. Logwood
yields its colouring matter to water. The decoction is at first a fine
red, bordering on violet; but, if left to itself, it gradually assumes a
3 R
1
490
DYEING.
black colour. Acids give it a deep red colour; alkalies a deep violet
inclining to brown; sulphate of iron renders it as black as ink, and
occasions a precipitate of the same colour.
I
Cloth, before it receives a black colour, is usually dyed blue: this
renders the colour much fully and finer than it would otherwise be. If
the cloth be coarse, the blue dye may be too expensive; in that case a
brown colour is given by means of walnut-peels.
Wool is dyed black by the following process: it is boiled for two
hours in a decoction of nut-galls, and afterwards kept for two hours
more in a bath composed of logwood and sulphate of iron, at a scald-
ing heat, but not boiled. During the operation, it must be frequently
exposed to the air; because the green oxyde of iron, of which the
sulphate is composed, must be converted into red oxyde by absorbing
oxygen, before the cloth can acquire a proper colour. The common
proportions are, five parts of gall, five of sulphate of iron, and thirty
of logwood, for every hundred of cloth. A little acetite of copper is
commonly added to the sulphate of iron, because it is thought to im-
prove the colour.
:

!!!
+
Silk is dyed nearly in the same manner. It is capable of combin-
ing with a great deal of tan: the quantity given is varied at the plea-
sure of the artist, by allowing the silk to remain a longer or shorter
time in the decoction.
T
t
full black. The cloth,
Linen and cotton are not easy to dye of a full black,
previously dyed blue, is steeped for twenty-four hours in a decoction
of nut-galls. A bath is prepared, containing acetite of iron, formed by
saturating acetous acid with brown oxyde of iron, into this bath the
cloth is put in small quantities at a time, wrought with the hand for a
quarter of an hour, then wrung out, and aired again; next wrought in
a fresh quantity of the bath, and afterwards aired. These alternate
processes are repeated till the colour wanted is given. A decoction of
alder-bark is usually mixed with the liquor containing the nut-galls..
*
7
of Dyeing. Brown.
2
Brown, or fawn-colour, though in fact a compound, is usually
ranked among the simple colours, because it is applied to cloth by a
single process. Various substances are used for brown dyes.
Walnut-peels, or the green covering of the walnut: when first sepa-
rated, they are white internally, but soon assume a brown, or even a
black colour, on exposure to the air. They readily yield their colour-
ing matter to water. They are usually kept in large casks, covered
with water, for above a year before they are used. To dye wool brown
with them, nothing more is necessary than to steep the cloth in a de-
coction of them till it has acquired the wished-for colour. The depth
of the shade is proportional to the strength of the decoction. The
root of the walnut-tree contains the same colouring matter, but in
smaller quantity... The bark of the birch also, and many other trees,
may be used for the same purpose. It is very probable that the brown
colouring matter is in these vegetable substances combined with tan.
This is certainly the case in shumac, which is often employed to pro-
duce a brown. This combination explains the reason why no mordant
is necessary; the tan has a strong affinity for cloth, and the colouring

→
DYEING.
491
The dye stuff and the mordant are already, in
matter for the tan.
fact, combined together.
12IMA! T
'
Of Dyeing Compound Colours.
987 1987 m.
Compound colours are produced by mixing together two simple ones,
or, which is the same thing, by dyeing cloth first one simple colour,
and then another. These colours vary to infinity, according to the
proportions of the ingredients employed. They may be arranged
under the following classes :
.)
Mixtures of, 1st, Blue and yellow; 2d, Blue and red; 3d, Yellow
and red; 4th, Black and other colours.
Mixtures of blue and yellow.This forms green, which is distin-
guished by dyers into a variety of shades, according to the depth of
the shade, or the prevalence of either of the component parts. Thus
we have sea-green, grass-green, pea-green, &c.
"
'Wool, silk, and linen, are usually dyed green, by giving them first a
blue colour, and afterwards dyeing them yellow; because, when the
yellow is first given, several inconveniences follow: the yellow partly
separates again in the blue vat, and communicates a green colour to it,
and thus renders it useless for every other purpose except dyeing
green. Any of the usual processes for dyeing blue and yellow may
be followed, taking care to proportion the depth of the shades to that
of the green required. When sulphate of indigo is employed, it is
usual to mix all the ingredients together, and to die the cloth at once;
this produces what is known by the name of Saxon, or English-green.
Mixtures of blue and red.-These form different shades of violet,
purple, and lilac. Wool is generally first died blue, and afterwards
scarlet, in the usual manner. By means of cochineal mixed with sul-
phate of indigo, the process may be performed at once. Silk is first
ayed crimson by means of cochineal, and then dipped into the indigo
Cotton and linen are first dyed blue, then galled, and soaked in a
decoction of logwood; but a more permanent colour is given by mearts
of oxyde of iron.
E
vát.
Mixtures of yellow and red.-This produces orange. When blue
is combined with red and yellow on cloth, the resulting colour is olive.
Wool may be dyed orange by first dyeing it scarlet, and then yellow.
When it is dyed first with madder, the result is cinnamon colour.
•
Silk is dyed orange by means of carthamus; a cinnamon colour by
logwood, Brazil-wood, and fustic mixed togather.
!
Cotton and linen receive a cinnamon colour by means of weld and
inadder; and an olive colour by being passed through a blue, yellow,
and then a madder bath.
1
Mixtures of black with other colours.These constitute greys, drabs,
and browns. If cloth be previously combined with brown oxyde of
iron, and afterwards dyed 'yellow with quercitron bark, the result will
be a drab of different shades, according to the proportion of mordant
employed. When the proportion is small, the colour inclines to olive
or yellow; on the contrary, the drab may be deepened or saddened,
as the dyers term it, by mixing a little shumac with the bark.
1
1
1




192
VARNISHES.
VARNISHES.
1

THE liquids in which the substances proper for making varnishes
are generally dissolved, are linseed, nut-oil, sunflower-oil, oil of turpen-
tine, spirit of wine. Hence the substances themselves are all of the
class of rosins. Nut-oil is not often used, though being of a clearer
cclour than linseed-oil, it might sometimes deserve the preference.
The other essential oils, as rosemary, bergamotte, &c. are too dear, and
do not dry.
The substances commonly employed are such as form a transparent
solution with the solvents above mentioned, and are not liable to be af-
fected by moisture of any kind: since none of the gurns, or gum-resins,
are fit for the purpose.
The resins usually employed are, copal, amber, mastic, sandaric, lac
(both stick lac and seed lac), pine turpentine from Chios or Venice,
common white rosin, dragon's-blood, gum-elemi, asphaltum or Jew's
pitch, and common pitch. To which may be added, elastic-guin, or
ca-out-chouc, though this is only used at present for balloons.
Oil of turpentine deadens the colour of paints: the varnishes of
amber and copal brighten them.
1
Linseed-oil is procured by grinding linseed in mills for that pur-
pose. It is of a brownish colour. Before it can be used it must be
made drying. The reason that oil will not dry without preparation is,
either that it contains a quantity of uncombined mucilaginous substance,
or a quantity of uncombined acid, or both.


•
The common method of making drying oil, is to put about half an
ounce of litharge to each quart of the oil. Boil it, not hastily or vio-
lently, but with a moderate and equal fire, for about two hours, scum-
ming it. If it be boiled too hard, it will be burnt, and become brown.
Let this rest till all sediment has perfectly subsided; then separate the
clean oil, which will grow the clearer and the better for keeping.
When it is made perfectly drying, it will have a scum formed at the
top. Perhaps white lead would be better to use than litharge.
Poppy-oil is from the seeds of the common poppy...
•
Nut-oil is the oil expressed in the same inanner from walnut. It is
made drying in the same manner as linseed-oil; and being clearer, is
preferable for colourless varnishes.
1
/
To make boiled linseed-oil colourless, take three or four gallons of
oil; add to it about two quarts of fine clear sand, and three or four gal-
lons of boiling water: agitate it for half an hour, separate the oil, and
repeat the process with fresh water.
Oil of turpentine is produced by the distillation of common turpen-
tine: the residuum is rosin
Copal is a resin produced from certain trees in New Spain. The
best is the clearest, and such as will glaze a hot tobacco-pipe without
blistering.
Amber (Karabe, succinum) is a substance (but whether vegetable
or animal is not quite determined), found upon the sea-shores of Polish
Prussia. It has been by some thought a resin from trees; by others,
a fossil; by others, the indurated excrement of the whale.
-
VARNISHES.
493
Mastic is a resin produced from a small tree called the lentisk, grow-
ing in the isle of Chio. The bark is cut, and the juice exudes.
Sandarac is a resin produced in the same way from a species of juni-
per, growing on the coast of Africa.
Lac, gum-lac, seed-lac, is produced on certain trees of the fig
kind in the mountainous parts of the East Indies, by the perforation of
insects in the bark. It has been thought by some a kind of wax, pro-
duced by the insects themselves.
Turpentine is collected in the Greek isles, by making an incision
in the fir-trees: the juice is turpentine. Venice (Chian) turpentine is
brought over in large earthen jars.
Common rosin, the residuum of turpentine, after distilling it to obtain
the essential oil.
:.
Dragon's blood, a resin of a red colour produced from certain trees
in the East Indies and Maderia, and the Canary Islands.
Gum-elemi, a resin, the produce of trees growing in the East Indies
and Brazil.
Asphaltum, Jew's pitch. This is a native bitumen found in various
parts of the world, of a blackish-brown colour.
Common pitch is the residuum after the distillation of tar.
Elastic gum, a substance from the East Indies and the Brazils, hav-
ing all the properties of inspissated bird-lime, or of the juice of the
misseltoe.
It dissolves in petroleum and oil of turpentine.
General Observations on making Varnishes of all Kinds.
f
1st. As the substances that form varnishes are extremely inflamma-
ble, they ought only to be made in a brick or stone room with a floor
of the same materials. They should be cautiously kept from a fire
that flames; nor should a lighted candle come near them, for the va-
pour, particularly of oil of turpentine and spirit of wine, will catch fire
at some distance by means of flame of any kind. The operator should
always have by him a woollen cloth or small blanket in a tub of wa-
ter to cover the vessel containing the ingredients in case of their taking
fire. They can only be put out by thus excluding the air.
1
2d. The substances should be freed, as much as possible, from im-
purities of every kind, particularly sandarac, and preserved free from
dust. The utmost cleanliness in and about the vessels is essentially -
necessary to good colour and transparency.
3d. The substances, after being broken into pieces, freed from im-
purities and heterogeneous substances, should be put by themselves
into the melting-pot. If reduced to powder or very small pieces, they
stick to the sides of the pot, and burn and hurt the colour,
.. }
4th. All the resins should be kept in vessels well stopt and closed
from dust. So of the oils and spirit.
5th. When the varnish is made, it should be left some time for the
dregs to settle then be poured off clear, and then be filtered through
silk or lawn.
:
6th, For goods that are not to be exposed to the heat of the run,
:
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VARNISHES
the spirit varnishes will answer: but as sandarac and mastic will melt
in the sun, the oil varnishes of copal and amber are the most proper.
7th, Glazed earthen vessels are better than iron: copper is soluble
in oil, and therefore is not to be used. The most scrupulous cleanli-
ness is necessary to: success.
Of Varnishes with Spirit of Wine.
Copal-spirit Varnish. This receipt is kept a great secret by Mr.
Henry of Rochester, and the Sieur Watin of Paris, but the following is
the real receipt:
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*
Dissolve half an ounce of camphor in a pint of alkohol, or spirits of
wine; put it into a circulating glass, and add four ounces of copal, in
small pieces; set it in a sand-heat so regulated that the bubbles may
be counted as they rise from the bottom; and continue the same heat
till the solution is completed.
Camphor acts more powerfully upon copal than any other substance.
If copal is finely powdered, and a small quantity of dry camphor rub-
bed with it in the mortar, the whole becomes in a few minutes, a tough
coherent mass. The process above described will dissolve more copal
than the menstruum will retain when cold. The most economical me-
thod will therefore be, to set the vessel which contains the solution by
for a few days; and when it is perfectly settled, pour off the clear var-
nish, and leave the residuum for a future operation.
P
This is a very bright solution of copal: it is an excellent varnish for
pictures, and may perhaps be found to be an improvement in fine japan
works, as the stoves used in drying, those articles may drive off the
camphor entirely, and leave the copal pure and colourless upon the
work...
1
Copal will dissolve in spirit of turpentine, by the addition of camphor,
with the same facility, but not in the same quantity, as in alkohol.
•
i
We have made it, by dissolving copal in a warm place, in any of the
following essential oils: bergamotte, lavender, orange, lemon, rosemary,
of which the last is the cheapest; dilute it with twice the quantity of
highly rectified spirit of wine. If the oil of rosemary is much adulte-
rated with oil of turpentine, it will not succeed. Oil of turpentine pre-
cipitates the copal; but by twelve hours digestion (in a small retort
with a lamp heat) of oil of turpentine on copal, we succeeded in making
a perfectly colourless varnish.
1
Colourless Spirit Varnish of Mastic and Sandarac.
To one quart of rectified spirit add two ounces of mastic in drops,
and six ounces of sandarac; when well dissolved, add four ounces of
pure Venice turpentine.
If it is wanted to be harder, substitute two ounces of gum-lac, half
an ounce of gum-elemi, and two ounces of clear white rosin instead of
the mastic and turpentine. But the colour will not be so good. The
first is proper for toilet-boxes, &c. the last for cane, chairs, furniture, &c.
which are much handled
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VARNISHES.
495
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Varnish for Violins and Musical Instruments.
Spirit of wine one quart, sandarac four ounces, gum-lacca and maş-
tic, each two ounces, gum-elemi one ounce; when all is melted, aðd
two ounces of turpentine.
Jana
Gold-colour Varnish.
... ...
Bruise separately four ounces of lacca, as much gamboge, as much
dragon's-blood, as much annatto, and one ounce of saffron. Put each of
these into a quart of spirit of wine. Digest them in the sun or in a
moderate heat for a fortnight, mix them with clear varnish of sandarac
according to the tint you want. Four ounces of aloes dissolved in a
quart of spirit will also be a good addition to the above ingredients, and
give you more command over the tint you may require.
·
*.
General Observations on Spirit Varnishes.
;
*
1. A water-bath is the proper heat for spirit varnishes. A sand-
bath is to be too hot, and embers or coals dangerous.
When the water once boils, keep it boiling till the substances are
dissolved. This you will find by stirring it with a glass, or white wood
spatula, or a tobacco-pipe. By dissolving salt in the water, you may
increase the heat. When, your substances are not quite dissolved, never
put them on the fire a second time to finish the solution.
Never fill the vessels but about three parts full.
2. Gum-elemi gives consistence to the varnish, but should be used
in small proportions. Brilliancy is given by the Venice and Chio tur-
pentine.
3. The turpentine should always be melted separately, when the sub-
stances are dissolved: it should be melted in a small quantity of spirit
of wine, and then added. After the turpentine is added, give the wa-
ter-bath six or eight boils, and then take it off, and strain it through a
very fine sieve or fine linen. It will be still clearer by standing and
•
repose.
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4. The general proportion of sandarac is about ten or twelve ounces
to a quart of spirit, and so of the other gums: if others are substituted,
the sandarac must be proportionably diminished. The spirits of wine
should fire gunpowder.
5. If you want red or black varnishes, dragon's-blood and vermilion,
Jew's-pitch and lamp-black, will answer your purpose.
6. Seed-lac makes harder varnish than shell-lac; about ten ounces to
the quart is enough.
Qil Varnishes-General Observations on Oil Varnishes.
Cover j
1. Copal and amber are the two principal substances for oil varnishes;
as each of them possesses the property of making a hard and transpa-
rent varnish, they need not be mixed; but copal should be reserved for
the lighter coloured varnishes. Amber, however, is tougher than copal,
and a little of it certainly improves copal varnish, if the tinge of colour
is no objection.
2. It requires a stronger fire to dissolve copal and amber when mix
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$496
VARNISHES.
ed with oil, than alone; a strong heat hurts the colour. Melt therefore
these resins by themselves, broken into small pieces; employ no more
heat than is necessary to melt them; when melted, add to them the hot
linseed oil by degrees, stirring as you pour it in; then give a few boil-
ings to incorporate the whole.
·
:
3. If you have more than one resin to add, melt the hardest first,
otherwise the most fusible will burn before the other is melted.
4. A sand-bath, or bright coals that do not flame, is the proper heat
for oil varnishes: but give no more heat than is barely necessary to
melt them.
5. The vessels should be glazed earthenware with a cover; and new
ones' used, for copal varnish especially, every time.
6. When the oil and the resin are incorporated and well stirred to-
gether, add your hot oil of turpentine
hot oil of turpentine; this should be about double the
quantity of the oil employed; but the oil should not be boiling hot
when the turpentine is poured in, otherwise it may catch fire. Stir it.
7. Filter or strain the varnish; then let it rest at least forty-eight
hours. The sediment will do for a coarser or more coloured varnish
of the same kind: the oil mixed with the sediment will tarnish the
colour at the second melting.
Copal Varnish.
Melt slowly one pound of copal; add half a pint of boiling drying
oil: when incorporated, add one pint of oil of turpentine made hot.
You may add from half a pint to three pints of boiling drvine oil, ac-
cording to the consistence required.
?
Another.
Melt in a perfectly clean vessel, by a very slow heat, a pound of
clear copal: to this add from one to two quarts of drying linseed oil;
when the materials are thoroughly mixed, remove the vessel from the
fire, and keep constantly stirring it till most of the heat is gone: then
add one pound of oil of turpentine. Strain the varnish through a
piece of close linen, and keep it for use. The older it is, the more
drying does it become.
:
•
:
Another.
M. Carendeffex, formerly of St. Domingo, and at present resident
at New York, finds that an ounce of good sulphuric æther, and an
ounce of copal in gross powder, mixed together in a well stopped bot-
tle, and placed in a moderate sand-heat or water-bath, from a perfect
solution. Mr. C. remarks, that the solution, though not very cheap,
affords a fine and brilliant varnish, and the process is so easy as to be
repeated by any person though of very moderate skill.
Gold-colour Varnish, or Lacker.
Take eight ounces of amber, two ounces of lacca; melt them; add
eight ounces of drying oil: then add oil of turpentine coloured with
gamboge, annatto, saffron, and dragon's-blood, according to the tinge
you want.
2
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VARNISHES,
497
•
To dissolve Gum-copal in Oil of Turpentine.
Whatever quantity is to be dissolved, should be put into a glass
vessel capable of containing at least four times as much, and it should
be high in proportion to its breadth.
Reduce two ounces of copal to small pieces, and put them into a
proper vessel. Mix a pint of oil of turpentine with one-eighth part of
spirit of sal ammoniac; shake them well together; put them to the
copal; cork the glass, and tie it over with a string or wire, making a
small hole through the cork. Set the glass in a sand heat so regulated,
as to make the contents boil as quickly as possible, but so gently, that
the bubbles may be counted as they rise from the bottom. The same
heat must be kept up exactly till the solution is complete.

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​It requires the most accurate attention to succeed in this operation.
After the spirits are mixed, they should be put to the copal, and the
necessary degree of heat be given as soon as possible. It should like-
wise be kept up with the utmost regularity. If the heat abates, or if
the spirits boil quicker than is directed, the solution will immediately
stop, and it will afterwards be in vain to proceed with the same mate-
rials; but if properly managed, the spirit of sal ammoniac will be seen
gradually to descend from the mixture, and attack the copal, which
swells and dissolves, except a very small quantity which remains un-
dissolved.
Black Japan.
Melt eight ounces of amber; melt (separately from the amber) four
ounces of asphaltum, and four ounces rosin: when melted, add eight
ounces of boiling oil, and then sixteen ounces of oil of turpentine; then
stir in from half an ounce to one ounce lamp-black, and give it another
boil or two.
Common Varnish.
One pound of rosin, one ounce gum-elemi, eight ounces drying oil,
and sixteen ounces oil of turpentine.
Varnishes with Turpentine alone.
-Oil of turpentine will dissolve any of these resins, except copal and
amber; but it does not make so good varnish as when mixed with
boiled oil.
Common Turpentine Varnish
Is frequently made by dissolving one pound of turpentine, or about
ten ounces of rosin, in oil of turpentine alone.
Elastic Gum Varnish.
..Cut the gum into small pieces, and digest it with thirty-two parts of
pure oil of turpentine for twenty-four hours in a warm place. Rose-
mary, lavender, and other essential oils also dissolve it. So does nitrie
ether. If softened by boiling in water, or still more in a solution of
alum, it may be joined.
3 S
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VARNISHES,
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Varnishes of Gums:
Gum-tragacanth and gum-arabic may be dissolved in water; or the
first in brandy. Ichthyocolla (isinglass) is best dissolved in brandy or
whiskey.
:
Elastic Gum.
Size-From diluted glue: from white leather cuttings.
Fish Size-Boiled eel skins.
1..
Martin's Copal Varnish.
In a large gallon earthen pot, with a cover like a chocolate pot, melt
four ounces of Chio turpentine: when fluid, pour in eight ounces of am-
ber powdered; set it on the fire a quarter of an hour. Take off the
pot; add to it one pound of pounded copal, four or more of turpentine,
and one gill of warm oil of turpentine. Increase the heat a little; when
it has been on the fire half an hour, take it off, stir the ingredients, add-
ing two ounces of the finest and whitest colophony or rosin. Set it
again on the fire, and increase the heat till the whole is quite fluid.
Remove the pot; let the heat subside a little; have ready twenty-four
ounces (about one pint and a quarter) of drying linseed oil, poppy, or
nut-oil; pour it boiling hot by degrees into your gums and stir them
well. When mixed, set it again on the fire, stirring it till it boils
then take it off, and add a quart of turpentine made hot; stir and give
it one boil more; then add another pint of turpentine made hot; stir it
well, give it one more boil, and it is enough. Strain it; if thicker
than linseed oil, thin it with oil of turpentine. Let it stand a month
before it is used. It should be made in an open yard, for the frequent
practice is very unwholesome.
up;

Great danger will attend the addition of copal, as the same heat which
would be required to dissolve the copal would volatilize the turpentine,
and take fire if the vapour were directed to the flame.
Black Varnish for Coaches and Iron-work.
This varnish is composed of asphaltum, resin and amber, melted se-
parately, and afterwards mixed; the oil is then added, and afterwards
the turpentine, as directed above. The usual proportions are, twelve
ounces of amber, two of resin, two of asphaltum, six of oil, and twelve
of turpentine.
+
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A Varnish for rendering Silk water and air-tight.
To render the linseed-oil drying, boil it with two ounces of sugar of
lead, and three ounces of litharge, for every pint of oil, till the oil has
dissolved them; then put a pound of bird-lime, and half a pint of the
drying oil, into a pot of iron or copper, holding about a gallon; and let
it boil gently over a slow charcoal fire, till the bird-lime… ceases to
crackle; then pour upon it two pints and a half of drying oil, and boil
it for about an hour longer, stirring it often with an iron or wooden
spatula. As the varnish in boiling swells much, the pot should be re-
VARNISHES.
499
moved from the fire, and replaced when the varnish subsides. While
it is boiling, it should be occasionally examined, in order to determine
whether it has boiled enough. For this purpose, take some of it upon
the blade of a large knife, and after rubbing the blade of another knife
upon it, separate the knives; and when, on their separation, the var
nish begins to form threads between the two knives, it has boiled
enough, and should be removed from the fire. When it is almost cold,
add about an equal quantity of spirits of turpentine; mix both well
together, and let the mass rest till the next day; then having warmed it
a little, strain and bottle it. If it is too thick, add spirits of turpentine.
This varnish should be laid upon the stuff when perfectly dry, in a
luke-warm state; a thin coat of it upon one side, and, about twelve
hours after, two other coats should be laid on, one on each side; and
in twenty-four hours the silk may be used.
Mr. Blanchard's Varnish for Air-balloons.
Dissolve elastic gum (Indian-rubber), cut small, in five times its
weight of spirits of turpentine, by keeping them some days together;
then boil one ounce of this solution in eight ounces of drying linseed-
oil for a few minutes, and strain it.
Use it warm.
Amber Varnish.
Melt eight ounces of Chio turpentine, pour in one pound of powdered
amber by degrees, stirring it all the while; set it on the fire for half an
hour, then add two ounces of white rosin; stop the cover close, and
increase the fire till the whole is melted. To this add one pound of
hot drying oil; and then by degrees a quart of oil of turpentine. Am-
her can only be dissolved clear, by melting it with some less glutinous
gum. Same process for copal varnish.-Dom. Enc. vol. v. (Philadel-
phia) p. 233.
Varnish for coloured Drawings and Prints.
܀
Take of Canada balsam one ounce, spirit of turpentine two ounces ;
mix them together. Before this composition is applied, the drawing or
print should be sized with a solution of isinglass in water; and when
dry, apply the varnish with a camel's-hair brush.
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To varnish plaster Casts or Models.
Take about a quarter of an ounce avoirdupoise of the finest white
soap; grate it small, and put it into a new glazed earthen vessel, with
an English pint of water; hold it over the fire till the soap is dissolved,
then add the same quantity of bleached wax cut into small pieces: as
soon as the whole is incorporated, it is fit for use.

Mode of application.-Dry the model well at the fire, suspend it by
a thread, and dip it in the varnish; take it out, and a quarter of an
hour after dip it in again; let it stand for six or seven days, then, with
a bit of muslin rolled softly round your finger, rub the model gently,
and this will produce a brilliant gloss; but this part of the operation
must be done with great care and a light hand, as the coat of varnish
Is thin.
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VARNISHES
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Another Way.
•
Take skim milk, from which the cream has been carefully taken off,
and with a camel's hair pencil lay over the cast till it holds out, or will
imbibe no more; shake or blow off any that remains on the surface,
and lay it in a place free from dust; and when it is dry, it will look
like polished marble.
1
N. B. This last mode answers equally well with the former, but will
not resist the weather.
Varnish for Earthen-ware.
To make it white, glass and soda in equal proportion must be pound-
ed together, very fine, carefully sifted, and well mixed. The mixture
must next be exposed to a strong heat till it is rendered very dry. It
is after that to be put into vessels which have been already baked; it
will then be melted, and the varnish is made. It may be applied in
the usual manner.
French soft Varnish for Engravers.
One ounce of virgin's wax, one ounce of asphaltum or Greek pitch,
half an ounce of common pitch, and a quarter of an ounce of Burgundy
pitch.
N. B. The celebrated Vivares, the landscape engraver, always used
this varnish, in preference to any other.
Varnish for Furniture.
To one part of virgin's white wax, add eight parts of oil of petroleum;
lay a slight coat of this mixture on the wood with a badger's brush,
while a little warm; the oil will then evaporate, and leave a thin coat
of wax, which should afterwards be polished with a coarse woollen
cloth.
A Varnish for Toilet Boxes, Cases, Fans, &c.
Dissolve two ounces of gum-mastic, and eight ounces of gum-sandarac,
in a quart of alkohol; then add four ounces of Venice turpentine.
Preparation of the true Copal Varnish.
1
Take two parts of gum copal, reduced to a fine powder; wash it re-
peatedly in water, to free it from the woody fibres; then introduce it
into a flask, and pour over it four parts of pure oil of rosemary: digest
the mixture in a gentle heat for three days, or longer; after which, add
as much highly rectified spirits of wine as is deemed necessary, and
suffer it to remain undisturbed, until the impurities subside: then de-
cant the varnish.
To make Varnish for Oil Paintings.
According to the number of your pictures, take the whites of the
same number of eggs, and to each picture take the bigness of a hazel-
nut of white sugar-candy, dissolved, and mix it with a tea-spoonful of
brandy; beat the whites of your eggs to a froth; then let it settle; take
:
VARNISHES.
501
the clear, put to it your brandy and sugar, and varnish over your pic-
tures with it; this is much better than any other varnish, as it is easily
washed off when your pictures want cleaning again.
To make White Varnish.
Dissolve gum-sandarac and gum-mastic in spirits of wine; leave it
to settle for two days; then strain it through a linen cloth, let it stand
for some time, pour off the clear liquid, and bottle it for use.
Another, by Dr. Withering.
?
Take of gum-sandarac an ounce and a half; mastic, in drops, half
an ounce; gum-elemi, a quarter of an ounce; oil of spike lavender, a
quarter of an ounce; put them into a half-pint phial, and fill it up with
best spirits of wine. Let it stand in rather a warm place, till all the
gums are dissolved, and then pour off the varnish into a clean phíal,
and it will be ready for use.
5
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A Varnish for preserving Insects, Fruits, &c.
Take one pound of rectified spirits of wine, and two ounces of white
amber; add thereto an ounce of white sandarac and white mastic, an
ounce and a half of Venice turpentine; digest the whole in balneo ma-
riæ during forty-eight hours, to an entire dissolution: take out the in-
testines of the insect you have a mind to preserve; lay them for some
days in rectified spirits of wine, mixed with clarified sugar-candy; af-
terwards besmear them with your varnish till they are transparent as
glass; in this manner you will preserve them a long time.
This varnish suceeds equally with vegetables and fruits, which never
rot or decay when not affected by the exterior air, as has been ob-
served with regard to cherries, which are preserved perfectly well, by
besmearing them with melted white wax.
Method of preparing Linseed Oil Varnish..
One pound of well pulverized and sifted litharge, four ounces of
finely pounded white vitriol, and one quart of linseed oil. Put these
ingredients into an iron pan of such a size that it may be only half full;
mix them well together, and boil them till the moisture is evaporated,
which may be known by a pellicle being formed on the surface, or by
the barrel of a quill bursting when thrust to the bottom of the boiling
varnish. Then take it from the fire and pour off the clear liquid, tak-
ing care to keep back the thick part, which has deposited itself at the
bottom. While boiling, it must be stirred several times round, that
the litharge may not fall to the bottom; but stir it constantly, else
superfluous litharge will be dissolved, and the varnish become too thick.
The composition of amber varnish consists of half a pound of melted
or roasted amber, one pound and a half of linseed oil varnish, and two
pounds of turpentine oil. The amber and linseed oil varnish are to be
mixed together in a deep cast-iron pan, of such a size as to be only
one-third full, and to be kept over a slow fire till the amber is dissolved,
which may be known by its swelling up; the operator therefore must
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502
VARNISHES.
have at hand a large copper, or iron vessel, that the varnish may be
held over it in case it should rise above the sides of the pan, and to
prevent the loss that would thereby be occasioned.--When the varnish
is dissolved, the pan must be taken from the fire; and when the mix-
ture has cooled, the turpentine oil is to be poured into it, continually
stirring it. Then let it stand some time, that the coarse undissolved
particles may deposit themselves at the bottom; after which pour off
the clear varnish, and, having strained it through a piece of linen, put
it in bottles for use.
In boiling the varnish, care must be taken that it may not boil over,
or catch fire. Should this happen to be case, it must not be extinguish..
ed by water; for this mode would occasion such a spattering, that the
operator would be in danger of having his face bespattered with the
boiling varnish. The best method, therefore, is to cover the vessel in
such a manner as to exclude the air, and for this purpose to have at
hand a piece of wood, plate of iron, or any thing else that may cover
the vessel and extinguish the flame.
Varnish for Pales and coarse Wood Work.
Take any quantity of tar, and grind it with as much Spanish brown
as it will bear, without rendering it too thick to be used as a paint or
varnish, and then spread it on the pales, or other wood, as soon as co-
venient, for it quickly hardens by keeping.
CHO
This mixture must be laid on the wood to be varnished, by a large
brush, or house-painter's tool; and the work should then be kept as
free from dust as possible, till the varnish be thoroughly dry. It will,
if laid on smooth wood, have a very good gloss, and is an excellent pre-
servative of it against moisture; on which account, as well as its being
cheaper, it is far preferable to painting, not only for pales, but for wea-
ther-boarding, and all other kinds of wood-work for grosser purposes.
Where the glossy brown colour is not liked, the work may be made of
a greyish brown, by mixing a small proportion of white lead, or whiten-
ing, or ivory black, with the Spanish brown.
To make Gold Varnish.
This ingenious process, which is at present employed throughout
Europe, in gilding wooden frames, coaches, and various other articles,
and which was formerly used in the preparation of the now old-fashion-
ed leather tapestry, was invented towards the end of the sixteenth cen-
tury. The composition is as follows:-
Take gum-lac, and having freed it from the filth and bits of wood
with which it is mixed, put it into a small linen bag, and wash it in
pure water, till the water becomes no longer red, then take it from the
bag and suffer it to dry. When it is perfectly dry, pound it very fine,
because the finer it is pounded it will dissolve the more readily. Then
take four parts of spirits of wine, and one of gum, reduced as before di-
rected, to an impalpable powder, so that for every four pounds of spi-
rits you may have one of gum; mix these together; and, having put
them into an alembic, graduate the fire so that the gum may dissolve in
the spirits. When dissolved, strain the whole through a strong piece
of linen cloth; throw away what remains in the cloth, as of no use, and
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VARNISHES.
500
preserve the liquor in a glass bottle closely corked. This is the gold
varnish which may be employed for gilding any kind of wood.
When you wish to use it, you must, in order that the work may be
done with more smoothness; employ à brush made of the tail of a cer-
tain quadruped called vari, well known to those who sell colours for
painting; and with this instrument dipped in the liquor, wash over
gently, three times, the wood which has been silvered. You must
however, remember, every time you pass the brush over the wood, tę
let it dry; for in so doing, your work will be extremely beautiful, and
have a resemblance to the finest gold.

Varnish for Drawings, Prints, &c. &c.
▼
↓
Boil four ounces of isinglass, in small pieces, in one quart of brandy
or spirits of wine, expose it to the air, and when only warm, wash over
the print or drawing (which should be previously mounted), and let
it stand till quite dry; then wash it again at a small distance from the
fire, or it will blister, which repeat two or three times; then go twice
over with the following white varnish: take of gum-sandarac and gum-
mastic equal parts; dissolve them in spirits of wine; let them settle
two days, then strain through a linen cloth, and pour the clear liquor
into a bottle for use.
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.་ the. To make a Lacquer for: Brass‹
Mood
Take eight ounces of spirits of wine, and one ounce of annatto, well
bruised; mix this in a bottle by itself; then take one ounce, of gam-
boge, and mix it in like manner, to the same quantity of spirits: also
bruised saffron, steeped in spirits, to nearly the same proportion. After
this take seed-lac varnish, what quantity you please, and you may
brighten it to your mind by the above mixture if it be too yellow,
add a little more from the annatto bottle; and if it be too red, add a
little more from the gamboge or saffron bottle; if too strong, add a
little spirits of wine, &c. Thus you may temper lacquer or varnish
to what degree of perfection you please.
1
•
To make Chinese Varnish.
ha-
Take of gum-lac in grains four ounces; put it into a strong bottle,
with a pound of good spirits of wine, and add about the bulk of
zel-nut of camphor; allow them to mix in summer in the sun, or in
winter on hot embers, for twenty-four hours, shaking the bottle from
time to time; pass the whole through a fine cloth, and throw away
what remains upon it. Then let it settle for twenty-four hours, and
you will find a clear part in the upper part of the bottle, which you
must separate gently, and put into another phial, and the remains will
serve for the first layers.
•
·
+4
"
!
Varnish to prevent the Rays of the Sun from passing through the Glasses
of Windows.
Pulverize gum-tragacanth, and put it to dissolve for twenty-four
•
}
1
504
VARNISHES.
}
hours.in whites of eggs well beaten. Lay a coat of this on the panes
of your windows with a soft brush; and let it dry.
3. Seed-Lac Varnish.
Take spirit of wine one quart; put it in a wide-mouthed bottle, and
add thereto eight ounces of seed-lac, which is large grained, bright,
and clear, free from dirt and sticks: let it stand two days or longer, in
a warm place, often shaking it; strain it through a flannel into another
bottle, and it is fit for use.
A Varnish for Wainscot, Cane Chairs, &c.
Dissolve in a quart of spirits of wine eight ounces of gum-sandarac,
two ounces of seed-lac, and four ounces of resin; then add six ounces
of Venice turpentine. If the varnish is to produce a red colour, more
of the lac and less of sandarac should be used, and a little dragon's
blood should be added. This varnish is very strong.
་
A Varnish for Violins and other Musical Instruments.
Put four ounces of gum-sandarac, two ounces of lac, two ounces
of gum-mastic, one ounce of gum-elemi, into a quart of alkohol, and
hang them over a slow fire till they are dissolved; then add two ounces
of turpentine.
"
Varnish for employing Vermilion for painting Equipages.
Dissolve in a quart of alkohol six ounces of sandarac, three ounces
of gum-lac, and four ounces of resin; afterwards add six ounces of
the cheapest kind of turpentine: mix it with a proper quantity of ver-
milion when it is to be used.
❤
{
Shell-Lac Varnish.
4
-
Take one quart of spirits of wine, eight ounces of the thinnest and
most transparent shell-lac, which, if melted in the flame of a candle,
will draw out in the longest and finest hair: mix and shake these to-
gether, and let them stand in a warm place for two days, and it is
ready for use. This varnish is softer than that which is made from seed-
lac, and therefore is not so useful; but may be mixed with it for
varnishing rood, &c.
:{
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CEMENTS.
505
10.
A
90000
CEMENTS.
nod:
CEMENTS require to be of various compositions, according to the
substances to which they are applied, and whether they are to be ex-
posed to heat and moisture.
1
Common Glue.-Common glue is formed by extracting the gelatinous
part of cuttings or scraps of coarse leather, or the hides of beasts. It
is never manufactured but in the large way, and therefore not neces-
sary to be described here.
·
}
CHAP. X.
·
Isinglass Glue.-Isinglass glue is made by dissolving beaten insin-
glass in water by boiling, and, having strained it through a coarse
linen cloth, evaporating it again to such a consistence, that being cold,
the glue will be perfectly hard and dry.
This cement is improved by dissolving the isinglass in any proof spi-
rît by heat, or by adding to it, when dissolved in water, an equal
quantity of spirits of wine.
#1
{
It is still further improved by adding to the isinglass, previous to
its solution in spirits, one-third of its weight of gum-ammoniac. Ex-
pose the mixture to a boiling heat until the isinglass and gum are dis-
solved, and until a drop of the composition becomes stiff instantly as
it cools. It will, at any future time, melt with a degree of heat little
exceeding that of the human body; and, in consequence of so soon
becoming stiff on cooling, forms a very valuable cement for many pur-
poses, particularly for the very nice and delicate one of fixing on the
antennæ, legs, &c. of insects in cabinets of natural history. The easy
melting of this cement is no objection to its use in cases where the ar-
ticles themselves may afterwards be exposed to moderate heat; for it
owes this property only to the presence of the spirit, which evaporates
soon after it has been applied. When used to join broken glass or
china, the pieces to be joined should be previously warmed. Immer-
sion in hot water will give them a sufficient degree of heat. Wipe
off the water before applying the cement, which may be laid on with
a pencil; then press the pieces together, binding them with a string or
bit of soft wire, if necessary.
·
This isinglass glue is far preferable to common glue for nice pur-
poses, being much stronger, and less liable to be softened either by heat
or moisture.
134
C
GRA
Parchment Glue.-Take one pound of shreds of parchment, or vel-
lum, and boil it in six quarts of water till the quantity be reduced to
one quart; strain off the fluid from the dregs, and then boil it again
till it be of the consistence of glue.
The same may be done with glovers' cuttings of leather, which are
dressed with alum instead of being tanned; this will make a colourless
glue.
:
A good Glue for Sign Boards, or any thing that must stand the
Weather. Melt common glue with water to a proper consistence;
then add one-eighth of boiled linseed-oil, dropping it into the glue
gently, and stirring it all the time.
A
very strong glue is made by adding some powdered chalk to con-
mon glue.
1
h
1



8 T
506
CEMENTS.
I
Asaphanges to put
+
Another that will resist water is made by adding half a pound of
common glue to two quarts of skimmetmilk.
=
."
Preparation of Lip Glue for Cementing Paper, Silk, thin Leather,
&c.-Take of isinglass glue and parchment glue each one ounce; of
sugar-candy and gum-tragacanth each two drachms; add to them an
ounce of water, and boil the whole together till the mixture appears,
when cold, of the proper consistence of ghie. Then form it into small
rolls, or any other figure that may be most convenient.
1.
This glue may be wet with the tongue, and rubbed on the edges
of the paper, silk, &c. that are to be cemented, which will, on their
being laid together, and suffered to dry, unite as firmly as any other
part of the substance.
❤
•
}
Lapland Glue. The bows of the Laplanders are composed of two
pieces of wood glued together one of them of birch, which is flexible,
and the other of fir of the matches, which is stiff, in order that the
bow when bent may not break, and that when unbent it may not bend.
When these two pieces of wood are bent, all the points of contact en-
deavour to disunite themselves; and to prevent this, the Laplanders
employ the following cement: they take the skins of the largest perches
(it is probable that eel-skins would answer the same purpose), and
having dried them, moisten them in cold water until they are so soft
that they may be freed from the scales, which they throw away. They
then put four or five of these skins in a rein-deer's bladder, or they
wrap them up in the soft bark of the birch tree, in such a manner that
water cannot touch them, and place them thus covered into a pot of
boiling water, with a stone above them to keep them at the bottom.
When they have boiled about an hour, they take them from the blad-
der or bark, and they are then found to be soft and viscousi In this
state they employ them for glueing together the two pieces of their
bows, which they strongly compress and tie up till the glue is well
dried. These pieces never afterwards separate.quannowe sigt e
1
*
10.
.
""
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A Glue from Cheese. Take skimmed milk cheese, free from the
rind, cut it into slices, and boil it in water, stirring it with a spoon
until it be reduced to a strong glue, which does not incorporate with
water. Then throw away the hot water; pour cold water over the
glue, and knead it afterward in warm water, subjecting it to the same
process several times. Put the warm glue on a grinding stone, and
knead it with quick lime until you have a good glue. When you
wish to use this glue you must warm it; if it be employed cold it is
not so strong, but it may also be used in that manner. This glue is
insoluble in water as soon as it is dry, and it becomes so in forty-eight
hours after it has been applied. It may be used for glueing wood,
and for cementing marble and broken stone and earthen-ware.. Baits
for catching fish may also be made of it. Fish are very fond of it, and
it resists water.
ces Jewellers' Cement.In setting precious, stones, pieces are sometimes
broken off by accident. In such cases, they often join the pieces so
correctly, that an inexperienced eye cannot discover the stone to have
been broken. They employ for this purpose a small piece of gum-
mastic applied between the fragments, which, are previously heated
sufficiently to enable them to melt the interposed gum. They are then
pressed together to force out the redundant quantity of gum.
Turkey Cement for joining Metals, Glass, &c.-Dissolve five or six
}
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CEMENTS.
507

I
2
bits of mástic, as large as peas, in as muchaspirits of wine as will suf
fice to render it liquid in another vessel dissolve as much isinglass
(which has been previously soaked in water till it is swollen and soft)
in brandy or rum, as will make two ounces by measure of strong glue;
and ada two small bits of gum-galbanum or ammoniacum, which must
be rubbed or ground till they are dissolved; then mix the whole with
a sufficient heat; keep it in a phial stopt, and when it is to be used
set it in hot water.
*
A Cement for broken China, Glasses, &c.Take quick-lime and
white of eggs, or old thick varnish; grind and temper them well to-
gether, and it is ready for use.
"
↓
Drying oil and white-lead are also frequently used for cementing
china and earthen-ware; but this cement requires a long time to dry.
Where it is not necessary the vessels should endure heat or moisture,
isinglass glue, with a little tripoli, or chalk, is better. The juice of
garlic also forms a strong cement, and the joining can scarcely be per-
ceived.
1
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A
A Cement for Chemical Glasses that will bear the Fire-Mix equal
quantities of wheat flour, fine powdered Venice glass, pulverized chalk,
with half the quantity of fine brick-dust, and a little scraped lint in
the whites of eggs: this mixture is to be spread upon a linen cloth,
and applied to the crack of the glasses, and should be well dried be-
fore they are put into the fire.
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A Cement useful for Turners.-Take resin one pound; pitch four
ounces; melt these together, and, while boiling hot, add brick-dust, until,
by dropping a little upon a stone, you perceive it hard enough; then
pour it into water, and immediately make it up in rolls, and it is fit
for use.
{
1
Another, finer.-Take resin one ounce, pitch two ounces; add red-
ochre, finely powdered, until you perceive it strong enough. Some-
times a small quantity of tallow is used, according to the heat of the
weather, more being necessary in winter than in summer be."..
1
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Either of these cements is of excellent use for turners. By applying
it to the side of a chuck, and making it warm before the fire, you may
fasten any thin piece of wood, which will hold while you turn it;
when you want it off again, strike it on the top with your tool, and it
will drop off immediately.
$
3
+
↓
A strong Cement for Electrical Purposes.-Melt one pound of resin
in a pot or pan over a slow fire; add thereto as much plaster of Paris,
in a fine powder, as will make it hard enough, which you may soon
know by trial; then add a spoonful of linseed oil, stirring it all the
while, and try if it be hard and tough enough for your purpose; if it
is not sufficiently hard, add more plaster of Paris; and if not tough
enough, a little more linseed-oil.
A
-
***
1
This is as good a cement as possible for fixing the necks of globes
or cylinders, or any thing else that requires to be strongly fixed; for
it is not easily melted again when cold.*´¨·
4
Another, softer.-Take resin one pound, bees-wax one ounce; add
thereto as much red-ochre as will make it of sufficient stiffness; pour
it into water, and make it into rolls, and it is fit for use. This ce-
ment is useful for cementing hoops on glasses, or any other mounting
of electrical apparatus.
dort &
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·
13-1
2


2
508
CEMENTS.

1
K
- A Cement for Glass Grinders →→Take pitch and boil it; add thereto,
and keep stirring it all the while, fine-sifted wood-ashes, until you
have it of a proper temper; the addition of a little tallow may be add-
ed, as you find necessary.
Another, for small Work-To four ounces of resin add one-fourth of
an ounce of bees-wax, melted together, add four ounces of whitening,
made previously red hot. The whitening should be put in while hot, that
it may not have time to imbibe moisture from the atmosphere,
Shell-lac is a very strong cement for holding metals, glass, or pre-
cious stones, while cutting, turning, or grinding them. The metal, &c.
should be warmed to melt it. For fastening ruby cylinders in watches,
and similar delicate purposes, shell-lac is excellent.
To solder or cement broken Glass.-Broken glass may be soldered
or cemented in such a manner as to be as strong as ever, by interpos-
ing between the parts, glass ground up like a pigment, but of easier
fusion than the pieces to be joined, and then exposing them to such a
heat as will fuse the cementing ingredient, and make the pieces ag-
glutinate without being themselves fused.

A glass for the purpose of cementing broken pieces of flint glass may
be made by fusing some of the same kind of glass previously reduced to
powder, along with a little red-lead and borax, or with the borax only.
#
Cement for Derbyshire Spar and other Stones.-A cement for this
purpose may be made with about seven or eight parts of resin and
one of bees-wax, melted together with a small quantity of plaster of
Paris. If it is wished to make the cement fill up the place of any
small chips that may have been lost, the quantity of plaster must be
increased a little. When the ingredients are well mixed, and the
whole is nearly cold, the mass should be well kneaded together. The
pieces of spar that are to be joined, inust be heated until they will
melt the cement, and then pressed together, some of the cement being
previously interposed.
Melted sulphur applied to fragments of stones previously heated
(by placing them before a fire) to at least the melting point of sulphur,
and then joined with the sulphur between, makes a pretty firm and
durable joining.
·
·
I
".

Little deficiencies in the stone, as chips out of corners, &c. may
also be filled up with melted sulphur, in which some of the powder of
the stone has been melted.
}
A Cement that will stand against boiling Water, and even bear a
considerable Pressure of Steam.-In joining the flanches of iron cy-
linders, and other parts of hydraulic and steam-engines, great incon-
venience is often experienced from the want of a durable cement.
+
Boiled linseed-oil, litharge, red and white-lead, mixed together to a
proper consistence, and applied on each side of a piece of flannel pre-
viously shaped to fit the joint, and then interposed between the pieces
before they are brought home (as the workmen term it) to their place
by the screws or other fastenings employed, make a close and durable
joint.

The quantities of the ingredients may be varied without inconve-
nience, only taking, care not to make the mass too thin with oil. It
is difficult in many cases instantly to make a good fitting of large pieces
of iron work, which renders it necessary sometimes to join and sepa-
rate the pieces repeatedly, before a proper adjustment is obtained.
✩
CEMENTS.
509
When this is expected, the white-lead ought to predominate in the
mixture, as it dries much slower than the red. A workman knowing
this fact, can be at little less in exercising his own discretion in regu-
lating the quantities. It is safest to err on the side of the white-lead,
as the durability of the cement is no way injured thereby, only a
longer time is required for it to dry and harden.
When the fittings will not admit easily of so thick a substance as
flannel being interposed, linen may be substituted, or even paper or
thin paseboard.

This cement answers well also for joining broken stones, however
large. Cisterns built of square stones, put together with this cement,
will never leak or want any repairs. In this case, the stones need not
be entirely bedded in it: an inch, or even less, of the edges that are
to lie next the water need only be so treated; the rest of the joint may
to filled with good lime.
;
Admirable Cement, or Mortar, as made on the Cotswold Hills.-
On the Cotswold Hills in Gloucestershire, where lime is dear and sand
not to be had, an excellent mortar is prepared at a moderate price.
Invention is seldom more successful than when it is prompted by ne-
cessity. The scrapings of the public roads over these hills, being levi-
gated limestone, more or less impregnated with the dung and urine of
the animals travelling on them, are found to be a most admirable basis for
cement. The scrapings alone are frequently used for ordinary walls
and the general proportion, for even the best buildings, is not more
than one part lime to three of scrapings. This mortar, of less than ten
years standing, has been observed to possess a stone-like tenacity, much
firmer than the common stone of the country, and consequently much
harder than the stones from which either the basis or the lime was
made. The method of preparing this cement is simply by collecting
the road scrapings, slaking the lime, and mixing them very thorough-
ly together; carefully picking out, as the mass is worked over, the
stones or other foulnesses which may have been collected. For stone
work, this is quite sufficient; for brick work, it might be necessary
to pass the materials through a screen or sieve previously to their be-
ing united, and made up into mortar. Similar 'scrapings may be col-
lected wherever limestone is used as a material in making or repairing
roads; this admirable mortar can, therefore, readily be prepared in all
such places with very little trouble or expence.
Useful Property of common Glue.-Common glue, dissolved with
linseed-oil, will resist the weather. The glue should be melted with
* a very little water, before the oil is added...
.
***
.
To make Size from Potatoes.-One of the beneficial uses of potatoes,
not perhaps generally known, is, that the starch of them, quite fresh,
and washed only once, may be employed to make size, which, mixed
with chalk, and diluted in a little water, forms a very beautiful and
good white for ceilings. This size has no smell, while animal size,
which putrifies so readily, always exhales a very disagreeable odour.
That of potatoes, as it is very little subject to putrefaction, appears,
from experience, to be more durable in tenacity and whiteness; and,
for white-washing, should be preferred to animal size, the decomposi-
tion of which is always accompanied with unhealthy exhalations.
4.
To make Patent Paste.-Boil a quantity of mealy potatoes, and
mash them without peeling; then take as many, and one-third more
*
/
+
✔
•

610
CEMENTS.
of raw potatoes, and obtain the starch or flower from them, by grating
them into a vessel of water, and reserving only the finer particles.
The mashed potatoes are to be diluted, beat up, and passed through
a sieve. They are then to be put into a boiler, and, when nearly
boiling, the starch produced from the grated potatoes is to be added,
and the whole boiled together about twenty minutes, during which
time it must be kept carefully stirred: it is then good paste, and is to
put into a wide vessel to cool.
1
•
Preparation of common Cement for joining Alabaster, Marb.e, Por-
phyry, or other Stones.-Take of bees-wax two pounds, and of rosin
one pound, melt them, and add one pound and a half of the same kind
of matter, powdered, as the body to be cemented is composed of,
strewing it into the melted mixture, and stirring them well together,
and afterwards kneading the mass in water, that the powder may be
thoroughly incorporated with wax and rosin. The proportion of the
powdered matter may be varied where required, in order to bring the
cement nearer to the colour of the body on which it is employed.
This cement must be heated when applied; as must also the parts
of the subject to be cemented together; and care must be taken like-
wise that they be thoroughly dry.
I
When this composition is properly managed, it forms an extremely
strong cement, which will even suspend a projecting body of consi-
derable weight after it is thoroughly dried and set; and is therefore
of great use to all carvers in stone, or others who may have occasion
to join together the parts of bodies of this nature.
Melted sulphur applied to fragments of stones previously heated
(by placing them before a fire) to at least the melting point of sul-
phur, and then joined with the sulphur between, makes a pretty firm.
and durable joining
1
•
1
1
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​** 63 do belts
Chips out of corners, and similar little deficiences in the stone, may
also be filled up with melted sulphur, in which some of the powder of
the stone has been mixed; but the stone should be previously heated.
1
4
Strong Cément.-To prevent the escape of the vapours of water,
spirits, and liquors not corrosive, the simple application of slips of
moistened bladder will answer very well for glass, and paper with good
paste for metal. Bladder, to be very adhesive, should be soaked some
time in water moderately warm till it feels clammy it then sticks very
well: if smeared with white of eggs instead of water, it adheres still
C.
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7
closer.
Fire Lute. For a fire lute, take porcelain clay from Cornwall (not
pipe clay), let it be pounded small, and mixed up to the consistence
of thick paint, with a solution of two ounces of borax in a pint of hot
water. For want of this peculiar kind of clay, slaked quick-lime
mixed up in the same manner may be used. This may be kept ready
mixed in a covered vessel
1
.
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Cold Lute.Take equal parts, by measure, of the above clay and
wheat flour mix them to a proper consistence with cold water. This
is more tenacious than the fire lute, but does not keep so well.
Another very excellent lute for many purposes may be made
by beating up an egg, both the white and the yolk; with half its
weight of quick-lime in powder. This lute is to be put upon a piece
of linen, and applied as usual. It dries slowly, but becomes very com-
pact, and acquires great hardness.) i
res +
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· · *
·
1
CEMENTS.
511
·
Cement for Iron Flues.-Common salt and sifted wood-ashes, equal
parts, made into a paste with water, make a good cement for iron
flues, &c. better than most other compositions, and may be applied
when the flue is hot or cold. Iron-filings and vinegar will do as well;
or rather iron-filings moistened with diluted muriatic acid. These are
commonly used for filling up the spaces between cylinders.
Blood Cement for repairing Copper Boilers, &c. &c.--This cement
is often used by coppersmiths to lay over the rivets and edges of the
sheets of copper, in large boilers, to serve as an additional security to
the joinings, and to secure cocks, &c. from leaking; it is made by
mixing pounded quick-lime with ox's blood. It must be applied fresh
made, as it soon gets so hard as to be unfit for use.
+
1
If the properties of this cement were duly investigated, it would be
found useful for many purposes to which it has never been yet applied:
It is extremely cheap, and very durable.
::
A
To restore Cast Iron Furnaces, and Soap Pans, that through Acci-
dent or Mismanagement may be cracked.--Take a small clod of fine
new lime, slacked, and finely sifted, mix it up with white of eggs, well
beaten, till it is of the consistence of pap or soft mortar, then add to
it some iron-file dust, and with this composition fill up the inside of
the crack (which will be sufficient), raising a little seam or bead upon
it, and it will soon become hard and fit for use.
This experiment completely cured a gentleman's furnace which had
a crack fourteen inches long, and he has boiled in it three or four days
every week since without the least inconvenience or prospect of its be
ing again disunited.
XO
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•
•
7
Composition for a Cement to resist the Action of Fire and Water
Take half a pint of milk, and mix with it an equal quantity of vinegar
so as to coagulate the milk. Separate the curds from the whey, and
mix the latter with the whites of four or five eggs, after beating them
well up.”›The mixture or these two substances being complete, add
sifted quick-lime, and make the whole into a thick paste of the con-
sistence of putty. If this mastic is carefully applied to broken bodies,
or to fissures of any kind, and dried properly, it resists water and fire,
J
A Cement to resist Moisture-May be formed by melting by heat,
without water, common glue, with half its weight of rosin; to which
must be added some red-ochre, to give it body; it is particularly use-
ful for cementing hones to their frames.
12
To make Japanese Cement, or Rice Glue. This elegant cement is
made by mixing rice-flour intimately with cold water, and then
gently boiling it. It is beautifully white, and dries almost transparent.
Papers pasted together by means of this cement will sooner separate
in their own substance than at the joining, which makes it extremely
useful in the preparation of curious paper articles, as tea-trays, ladies
dressing-boxes, and other articles which require layers of papers to be
cemented together. It is, in every respect, preferable to common paste
made with wheat-flour for almost every purpose to which that article
is usually applied. It answers well, in particular, for pasting into books
the copies of writings taken off by copying-machines on unsized silver
paper.
Lie To
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With this composition, made with a comparatively small quantity of
water, that it may have the consistence similar to plastic clay, models,
busts; statues, basso-relievos, and the like, may be formed. When
F


ป


512
CEMENTS
dry, the articles made of it are susceptible of a high polish: they are
also very durable.
The Japanese make quadrille fish of this substance, which so nearly
resemble those made of mother-of-pearl, that the officers of our East
Indiamen are often imposed upon.
Turkey Cement for joining Metals, Glass, &c.-The jewellers in
Turkey, who are mostly Armenians, have a curious method of orna-
menting watch-cases, and similar things, with diamonds and other
stones, by simply glueing them on. The stone is set in silver or gold,
and the lower part of the metal made flat, or to correspond with the
part to which it is to be fixed; it is then warmed gently, and the glue
applied, which is so very strong that the parts never separate. This
glue may be applied, to many purposes, as it will strongly join bits of
glass or polished steel.
Excellent Cement for broken China-May be made from a mixture
of equal parts of glue, white of egg, and white lead.
/
To prepare a Cement for joining broken Glass, China, Earthen-ware,
&c.-Take two ounces of good glue, and steep it for a night in dis-
tilled vinegar; boil them together the next day; and having beaten
a clove of garlic, with half an ounce of ox-gall, into a soft pulp, strain
the juice through a linen cloth, using pressure, and add the same to
the glue and the vinegar. Then take gum-sandarac powdered, and
turpentine, of each one drachm, and of sarcoal and mastic powdered,
each half a drachm, and put them into a bottle, with an ounce of highly
rectified spirits of wine. Stop the bottle, and let the mixture stand for
three hours in a gentle heat, frequently shaking it. Mix this tincture
also with the glue while hot, and stir them well together with a stick
or tobacco-pipe, till part of the moisture be evaporated; then take
the composition from the fire, and it will be fit for use. When this
cement is to be applied, it must be dipped in vinegar, and then melted
in a proper vessel with a gentle heat; and if stones are to be cemented,
it is proper to mix with it a little powdered tripoli or chalk: or if glass
is to be conjoined, powdered glass should be substituted.
+
For the uniting the parts of broken china, or earthen-ware vessels, as
also glass, where the rendering the joint visible is not of consequence,
the following composition, which is much more easily prepared, may
be substituted for the foregoing:

+

Take an ounce of Suffolk cheese, or any other kind devoid of fat,
grate it as small as possible, and put it, with an equal weight of quick-
lime, into three ounces of skimmed milk; mix them thoroughly to-
gether, and use the composition immediately.
When the broken vessels are for service only, and the appearance is
not to be regarded, the joints may be made equally strong with any
other part of the glass, by putting a slip of thin paper, or linen, smear-
ed with this cement, over them, after they are well joined together by
it. This method will make a great saving in the case of glasses em-
ployed for chemical, or other similar operations.
A cement of the same nature may be made by tempering quicklime
with the curd of milk, till it be of a due consistence for use.
The curd,
in this case, should be as free as possible from the cream or oil of the
milk. On this account it should be made of milk from which the
cream has been well skimmed off, or the kind of curd commonly sold
in the markets, made of whey, and the milk from which butter has
·


CEMENTS.
513
been extracted, commonly called butter-milk. This cement should be
used in the same manner as the preceding, and they may be applied
to stones, marble, &c. with equal advantage as the compound one above
given, and is much more easy and cheaply prepared.
To stop cracks in Glass Vessels.-The cracks of glass vessels may be
mended, by daubing them with a suitable piece of linen over with white
of egg, strewing both over with finely powdered quicklime, and in-
stantly applying the linen closely and evenly.
Cement for preserving Wood and Brick. This composition is formed
of the following materials, viz. mineral or coal tar, pulverized coal,
(charcoal is esteemed the best) and fine well-slaked lime; the coal and
lime to be well mixed together, proportioned at about four-fifths coal,
and one-fifth lime; the tar to be heated, and while hot, thickened with
the mixture of coal and lime, until it becomes so hard that it may be
easily spread upon the surface of a board, and not run when hot. Tur-
pentine or pitch will answer nearly as well as tar, and plaster of Paris
will answer instead of lime; to be used in the same manner, and in
about the same proportions. The cement must be applied warm, and
is found to be used easiest with a trowel.
Cement for Wood or Paper.-Dissolve some isinglass in a small quan-
tity of gin or proof spirit, by a very gentle heat; and preserve it in a
bottle for use.

Another. Dissolve, isinglass two parts, and gum arabic, in like man-
ner with the preceding, and keep it in a bottle for use.
Another Cement that will stand the action of boiling Water and
Steam. This cement, which is preferable even to the former for steam
engines, is prepared as follows:
Take two ounces of sal ammoniac, one ounce of flowers of sulphur,
and sixteen ounces of cast iron filings or borings. Mix all well together
by rubbing them in a mortar, and keep the powder dry.
When the cement is wanted for use, take one part of the above
powder, and twenty parts of clean iron borings or filings, and blend
them intimately by grinding them in a mortar. Wet the compound with
water, and when brought to a convenient consistence, apply it to the
joints with a wooden or blunt iron spatula.
i
By a play of affinities, which those who are at all acquainted with
chemistry will be at no loss to comprehend, a degree of action and re-
action takes place among the ingredients, and between them and the
iron surfaces, which at last causes the whole to unite as one mass. In
fact, after a time, the mixture and the surfaces of the flanches become
a species of pyrites (holding a very large proportion of iron), all the
parts of which cohere strongly together.
Flour Paste.-Flour paste for cementing, is formed principally of
wheaten flour, boiled in water till it be of a glutinous or viscid con-
sistence.
It may be prepared of these ingredients simply for common purposes,
but when it is used by book-binders, or for paper hangings, it is usual
to mix with the flour a fifth or sixth of its weight of powdered alum;
and where it is wanted still more tenacious, gum arabic, or any kind of
size, may be added.
Of Sizes.-Common size is manufactured in the same manner, and
generally by the same people. as glue. It is indeed glue left in a
moister state, by discontinuing the evaporation before it is brought to a
3 U
514
CEMENTS.
•
dry consistence, and therefore further particulars respecting the manu-
facture of it are needless here.
Isinglass size may also be prepared in the manner above directed for
the glue, by increasing the proportion of the water for dissolving it.
And the same holds good of parchment size.
L
f
{
CHAP. XI.
TANNING.
1. 10 91
TANNING is the art of converting the raw skin of animals into leather.
The skin is composed chiefly of two parts; a thin, white, elastic layer
on the one side, which is called the epidermis or cuticle, and a much
thicker layer composed of a great many fibres closely interwoven, and
disposed in different directions. This is called the cutis, or true skin.
The epidermis is that part of the skin which is raised in blisters! It
is easily separated from the cutis by maceration in hot water. It possesses
a very great degree of elasticity. It is totally insoluble in water and
alkohol: pure fixed alkalies dissolve it completely, as does lime likewise,
though slowly.
**
***
1 T
1
i
When a portion of cutis is macerated for some hours in water, and
agitation and pressure are employed to accelerate the effect, the blood
and all the extraneous matter with which it was loaded are separated
from it, while its texture remains unaltered. On evaporating the wa-
ter employed, a small quantity of gelatine may be obtained. No sub
sequent maceration in cold water has any further effect; the weight of
the cutis is not diminished, and its texture is not altered; but if it be
boiled in a sufficient quantity of water, it may be completely dissolved;
and the whole of it, by evaporating the water, obtained in the state of
gelatine.
It was mentioned, when treating of chemistry, that gelatine with
tannin, or the tanning principle of vegetables, formed a combination,
which is insoluble in water. Upon this depends the art of making lea
ther; the gelatinous part of the skin combining with the tannin of the
bark usually employed.
The process which has long been used in this country is as follows:
The leather tanned in England consists chiefly of three sorts, known by
the name of butts or backs, hides, and skins. Butts are generally
made from the stoutest and heaviest ox hides, and are managed as fol-
lows: after the horns are taken off, the hides are laid smooth in heaps
for one or two days in the summer, and for five or six in the winter;
they are then hung on poles, in a close room called a smoke-house, in
which is kept a smouldering fire of wet tan; this occasions a small de
gree of putrefaction, by which means the hair is easily got off, by
spreading the hide on a sort of wooden horse or beam, and scraping it
with a crooked knife. The hair being taken off, the hide is thrown in-
to a pit or pool of water, to cleanse it from the dirt, &c. which being
done, the hide is again spread. on the wooden beam, and the grease,
loose flesh, extraneous filth, &c. carefully scrubbed out or taken off; the
►
}



TANNING
515
ƒ

}
hides are then put into a pit of strong liquor, caliel ooze, prepared in
pits kept for the purpose, by infusing ground bark in water; this is
termed colouring; after which they are removed into another pit called
a scowering, which consists of water strongly impregnated with vitri-
olic acid, or with a vegetable acid prepared from rye or barley. This
operation (which is called raising), by distending the pores of the hides,
occasions them more readily to imbibe the ooze, the effect of which is
to combine with the gelatinous part of the skin, and form with it
leather. The hides are then taken out of the scowering, and spread
smooth in a pit commonly filled with water, called a binder, with a
quantity of ground bark strewed between each. After laying a month
of six weeks, they are taken up; and the decayed bark and liquor bes
ing drawn out of the pit, it is filled again with strong ooze, when they
are put in as before, with bark between each hide. They now lie two
of three months, at the expiration of which the same operation is re-
peated; they then remain four or five months, when they again under-
go the same process, and after being three months in the last pit, are
completely tanned, unless the hides are so remarkably stout as to want
an additional pit or layer. The whole process requires from eleven to
aighteen months, and sometimes two years, according to the substance
of the hide, and discretion of the tanner. When taken out of the pit
to be dried, they are hung on poles, and after being compressed by a
steel pin, and beat out smooth by wooden hammers, called battes; the
operation is complete and when thoroughly dry, they are fit for sale.
Butts are chiefly used for the soles of stout shoes.
give
首
​+
+
or
The leather which goes under the denomination of hides, is generally
made of cow hides, or the lighter ox hides, which are thus managed.
After the horns are taken off, and the hides washed, they are put into
a pit of water, saturated with lime, where they remain a few days';
when they are taken out, and the hair scraped off on a wooden beam;
as before described; they are then washed in a pit, or pool, of water;
and the loose flesh, &c. being taken off, they are removed into a pit of
weak doze, where they are taken up, and put down (which is technf-
cally termed handling) two or three times a day, for the first week;
every second or third day they are shifted into a pit of fresh ooze, some-
what stronger than the former; till at the end of a month or six weeks
they are put into a strong ooze, in which they are handled once o
twice a week with fresh bark for two of three months. They are then
removed into another pit, called a layer, in which they are laid smooth,
with bark ground very fine, strewed between each hide. After ré-
maining here two or three months, they are generally taken up, when
the ooze is drawn out, and the hides put in again with fresh ooze and
fresh bark, where, after lying two or three months more, they are coin-
pletely tanned; except a few very stout hides, which may require an
extra layer they are then taken out, and hung on poles, and being
hammered and smoothed by a steel pin, are, when dry, fit for sale.
These hides are called crop hides; they are from ten to eighteen months
in tanning, and are used for the soles of shoes.
+
...
Y
Skins are the general term for the skins of calves, seals, hogs, dogs, &c.
These, after being washed in Water; are put into lime pits, as before
mentioned, where they are taken up and put down every third of fourth
day, for a fortnight or three weeks, in order to destroy the epidermis
of the skin. The hair is then scraped off, and the excrescences being
|
1
516
TANNING.
removed, they are put into a pit of water impregnated with pigeon
dung, called a grainer, forming an alkaline ley, which in a week or ten
days soaking out the lime, grease, and saponaceous matter (during
which period they are several times scraped over with a crooked knife,
to work out the dirt and filth), softens the skins, and prepares them for
the reception of the ooze. They are then put into a pit of weak ooze,
in the same manner as the hides, and being frequently handled, are by
degrees removed into a stronger, and still stronger liquor, for a month
or six weeks, when they are put into a very strong ooze, with fresh
bark ground very fine, and at the end of two or three months, accord-
ing to their substances, are sufficiently tanned: when they are taken
out, hung on poles, dried, and are fit for sale. These skins are after-
wards dressed and blacked by the curriers, and are used for the upper
leathers of shoes, boots, &c.
·
The lighter sort of hides, called dressing hides, as well as horse hides,
are managed nearly in the same manner as skins; and are used for
coachwork, harness work, &c.
As the method of tanning above described, and all others in general
use, are extremely tedious and expensive in their operation, various.
schemes at different times have been suggested to shorten the process,
and lessen the expence.
Much light has been thrown by modern chemists upon the theory of
tanning, though it does not appear that any considerable improvements
have been made in the practice of this art. M. Seguin, in France, has
particularly distinguished himself by his researches on this subject, and
much improved the art in his country.
In 1795, Mr. William Desmond obtained a patent for practising
Seguin's method in England. He obtained the tanning principle, by
digesting oak bark or other proper material in cold water, in an ap-
paratus nearly similar to that used in the saltpetre works. That is to
say, the water which has remained upon the powdered bark for a cer-
tain time, in one vessel, is drawn off by a cock, and poured upon fresh
tan. This is again to be drawn off, and poured upon other fresh tan;
and in this way the process is to be continued to the fifth vessel. The
liquor is then highly coloured, and marks from six to eight degrees up-
on the hydrometer for salts. This he calls the tanning lixivium.
The criterion for ascertaining its strength is the quantity of the so-
lution of gelatine which a given quantity of it will precipitate. Isin-
glass is used for this purpose, being entirely composed of gelatine.
And here it may be observed, that this is the mode of ascertaining the
quantity of tanning principle in any vegetable substance, and conse-
quently how far they may be used as a substitute for oak bark.
The hides, after being prepared in the usual way, are immersed for
some hours in a weak tanning lixivium of only one or two degrees; to
obtain which, the latter portions of the infusions are set apart, or else
some of that which has been partly exhausted by use in tanning. The
hides are then to be put into a stronger lixivium, where, in a few days,
they will be brought to the same degree of saturation with the liquor
in which they are immersed. The strength of the liquor will by this.
means be considerably diminished, and must therefore be renewed.
When the hides are by this means completely saturated, that is to say,
perfectly tanned, they are to be removed, and slowly dried in the
shade.
T


TANNING.
517
It has been proposed to use the residuum of the tanning lixivium, or
the exhausted ooze (which contains a portion of gallic acid, this form-
ing a constituent part of astringent vegetables), for the purpose of
taking off the hair; but this liquor seems to contain no substances cap-
able of acting upon the epidermis, or of loosening the hair; and when
skin is depilated by being exposed to it, the effect must really be owing
to incipient putrefaction.

The length of time necessary to tan leather completely, according to
the old process, is certainly a very great inconvenience; and there is
no doubt but that it may be much shortened by following the new me
thod. It has been found, however, that the leather so tanned has not-
been so durable as that which has been formed by a slower process.
The public is much indebted to Sir Humphrey Davy, professor of
chemistry in the Royal Institution, for the attention which he has paid
to this subject. From his excellent paper "On the Constituent Parts of
Astringent Vegetables," in the Philosophical Transactions, we present
the reader with the following extract.
"In considering the relation of the different facts that have been
detailed, to the processes of tanning and of leather-making, it will ap-
pear sufficiently evident, that when skin is tanned in astringent infu-
sions that contain, as well as tanning, extractive matters, portions of
these matters enter, with the tanning, into chemical combination with
the skin. In no case is there any reason to believe that gallic acid is
absorbed in this process; and M. Seguin's ingenious theory, of the
agency of this substance, in producing the de-oxygenation of skin,
seems supported by no proofs. Even in the formation of glue from
skin, there is no evidence which ought to induce us to suppose that it
loses a portion of oxygen; and the effect appears to be owing merely
to the separation of the gelatine, from the small quantity of albumen
with which it was combined in the organized form, by the solvent
powers of water.
·
"The different qualities of leather made with the same kind of skin,
seem to depend very much upon the different quantities of extractive
matter it contains, The leather obtained by means of infusions of galls
is generally found harder, and more liable to crack, than the leather
obtained from the infusion of barks; and in all cases it contains a much
larger proportion of tanning, and a smaller proportion of extractive
matter.
"When ekin is very slowly tanned in weak solutions of the barks,
or of catechu, it combines with a considerable proportion of extractive
matter; and in these cases, though the increase of weight of the skin is
comparatively small, yet it is rendered perfectly insoluble in water, and
is found soft, and at the same time strong. The saturated astringent
infusions of barks contain much less extractive matter, in proportion to
their tanning, than the weak infusions; and when skin is quickly
tanned in them, common experience shews that it produces leather less
durable than the leather slowly formed.
<c
Besides, in the case of quick tanning by means of infusions of barks,
a quantity of vegetable extractive matter is lost to the manufacturer,
which might have been made to enter into the composition of his lea-
ther. These observations shew that there is some foundation for the
vulgar opinion of workmen, concerning what is technically called the
سلام السمر
518
TANNING.
feeding of leather in the slow method of tanning; and though the pro-
cesses of the art may, in some cases, be protracted for an unnecessary
length of time, yet in general they appear to have arrived, in conse-
quence of repeated practical experiments, at a degree of perfection
which cannot be very far extended by means of any elucidations of
theory that have as yet been known.”
؟
As a vast quantity of bark may easily be obtained in countries that
are covered with natural forests, such as many parts of America, New
Holland, &c. it has been suggested, as a method of lessening the ex-
pense of freight in bringing it over, to make an extract from the
bark, which might be very easily transported, and which would serve
the purpose of the tanner as well as the bark itself.
It was first suspected by Sir Joseph Banks, and afterwards confirm-
ed by the experiments of Professor Davy, that a substance called ca-
techu or terra Japonica, brought from the East Indies, contained a yast
quantity of tannin; so much so, that it far excels every other known
substance in this respect. One pound of catechu contains as much
tannin as eight or ten pounds of common oak bark, and would conse-
quently tan proportionately as much more leather. It is an extract
made from the wood of a species of mimosa, by decoction and subse-
quent evaporation.
...Oak bark being a very expensive article in the process of tanning,
various substances have been proposed as substitutes for it. All the
parts of vegetables which are of an astringent nature, contain tannin
(which may be known by their giving precipitates with gelatine, in-
saluble in water), and will answer this purpose. The leaves, branches,
fruit, flowers, of a vast number of plants; every part of the oak, as
the leaves and acorns, oak saw-dust, and the bark of almost all trees
contain more or less tannin.
•
Mr. Biggins has made a great many experiments upon the quantity
of tanning principle in various barks from which he has constructed
the following table:
Bark of elm
pak, cut in winter
horse chesnut
beech
willow (boughs)
elder
plum-tree
willow (trunk)
sycamore
birch
cherry-tree
sallow
mountain-ash
poplar
hazel
ash
Spanish chesnut
►



WE
|
I
1
Tanning principle (in grains),
from half a pint of infusion
and au suce of solution of
glue.
28
30
30
31
31
741
1:58
$52
53
54
}
59
59
60
76
79
82
98
********
1 *
#
V
1
TANNING.
519
Bark of smooth oak
^
=
oak, cut in spring
Huntingdon or Leicestershire willow
sumach
/
-
***
Currying. --The art of currying consists in rendering tanned skins
supple and of uniform density, and impregnating them with oil, so as
to render them in a great degree impervious to water.
The stronger and thicker hides are usually employed for making the
soles of boots and shoes, and these are rendered fit for their several
purposes by the shoemakers after they are tanned; but such skins as
are intended for the upper leathers and quarters of shoes, for the legs
of boots, for coach and harness leather, saddles, and other things, must
be subjected to the process of currying.
These skins after coming from the tanners, having many fleshy fibres
on them, are well soaked in common water, They are then taken out,
and stretched upon a very even wooden horse; where with a paring
knife all the superfluous flesh is scraped off, and they are again put
in to soak. After the soaking is completed, the currier takes them again
out of the water, and having stretched them out, presses them with his
feet, or a flat stone fixed in a handle, to make them more supple, and
to press out all the filth that the leather may have acquired in tanning,
and also the water it has absorbed in soaking.
!
The skins are next to be oiled, to render them pliant and impervious
to wet. After they are half dried, they are laid upon tables, and first
the grain side of the leather is rubbed over with a mixture of fish-oil
and tallow; then the flesh side is impregnated with a large proportion
of oil. After having been hung up a sufficient time to dry, they are
taken down and rubbed, pressed, and folded, in various directions, and
then spread out, when they are rolled with considerable pressure upon
both sides with a fluted board, fastened to the operator's hand by a
strap; by this means, and by repeating the rolling, a grain is given to
the leather,
1
•
After the skins are curried, it may be required to colour them: the
colours usually given to them are black, red, green, yellow, &c.
-If the skins are to be blacked, the process varies according to the
side of the skin to be coloured Leather that is to be blacked on the
flesh side, which is the case with most of the finer leathers intended for
shoes and boots, is coloured with a mixture of lamp black, oil, and tal-
low, rubbed into the leather, And what is to be coloured on the grain
side is done over with chamber-ley, and then with a solution of sul-
phate of iron (green copperas), which turns it black.
156 bu
Tanning principle (in grains),
from hali a pint of infusion
and an ounce of solution of
glue.
...
ܝ܂
!
104
108
- 109
158
-
:
-



"
A
.wi
520
JAPANNING.
✓
CHAP. XI.
JAPANNING.
JAPANNING is properly the art of varnishing and painting ornaments
on wood, in the same manner as is done by the natives of Japan in the
East Indies.
The substances which admit of being japanned are almost every
kind that are dry and rigid, or not too flexible, as wood, metals, leather,
and paper prepared.
Wood and metals do not require any other preparation, but to have
their surfaces perfectly even and clean; but leather should be securely
strained, either on frames or on boards; as its bending, or forming
folds, would otherwise crack and force off the coats of varnish. Paper
should be treated in the same manner, and have a previous strong coat
of some kind of size; but it is rarely made the subject of japanning
till it is converted into papier machie, or wrought by other means into
such form, that its original state, particularly with respect to flexibility,
is changed.

One principal variation from the method formerly used in japanning
is, the omitting any priming or undercoat on the work to be japanned.
In the older practice, such a priming was always used; the use of
which was to save in the quantity of varnish, by filling up the inequa-
lities in the surface of the substance to be varnished. But there is a
great inconvenience arising from the use of it, that the japanned coats
are constantly liable to be cracked, and peeled off, by any violence, and
will not endure near so long as the articles which are japanned with-
out any such priming.
The French still retain the use of this undercoat; and their japanned
goods are upon that account less durable than those manufactured at
Birmingham, where it is not used.

Of the Nature of Japanned Grounds.-When a priming is used, the
work should first be prepared by being well smoothed with fish-skin
or glass-paper, and being made thoroughly clean, should be brushed
over once or twice with hot size, diluted with two-thirds water, if it
is of the common strength. The priming should then be laid on as
even as possible, and should be formed of a size of a consistency be-
tween the common kind and glue, mixed with as much whiting as well
give it a sufficient body of colour to hide the surface of whatever it is
laid upon, but not more. This must be repeated till the inequalities
are completely filled up, and then the work must be cleaned off with
Dutch rushes, and polished with a wet rag.
When wood or leather is to be japanned, and no priming is used,
the best preparation is to lay two or three coats of coarse varnish, com-
posed in the following manner:
Take of rectified spirits of wine one pint, and of coarse seed-lac
and resin each two ounces; dissolve the seed-lac and resin in the spi-
rit, and then strain off the varnish.
This varnish, as well as all others formed of spirits of wine, must
be laid on in a warm place; and, if it can be conveniently managed,
the piece of work to be varnished should be made warm likewise; and,
JAPANNING.
521
•
for the same reason all dampness should be avoide; for either cold or
moisture chills this kind of varnish, and prevents i taking proper hold
of the substance on which it is laid.
When the work is so prepared, or by the primg with the compo
sition of size and whiting above described, the pper japan ground
must be laid on, which is much the best formed f shell-lac varnish,
and the colour desired, except white, which reques a peculiar treat-
ment; and if brightness be wanted, then also ofer means must be
pursued.
31
The colours used with the shell-lac varnish mi be any pigments
whatever, which give the tint of the ground desire
As metals never require to be undercoated withhiting, they may
be treated in the same manner as wood or leather.
White Japan Grounds.-The forming a ground prfectly white, and
of the first degree of hardness, remains hitherto a esideratum in the
art of japanning, as there are no substances whichform a very hard
varnish, but which have too much colour not to imre the whiteness,
when laid on with a due thickness over the work.
.
'
The nearest approach, however, to a perfect whie varnish, already
known, is made by the following composition:
Take flake-white, or white lead, washed over andground up with
one-sixth of its weight of starch, and then dried; and Imper it proper-
ly for spreading with mastic varnish.
Lay these on the ground to be japanned, preparedeither with or
without the under coat of whiting, in the manner ajabove ordered;
and then varnish it over with five or six coats of the flowing varnish:
·



Provide any quantity of the best seed-lac, and pik out of it all
the clearest and whitest grains, reserving the more colured and fouler
parts for the coarse varnishes, such as that used for prhing or prepar-
ing wood or leather. Take of this picked lac two ounes, and of gum-
animi three ounces; and dissolve them, being previousy reduced to a
gross powder, in about a quart of spirits of wine, and strain off the
clear varnish.
3
The seed-lac will give a slight tinge to this compsition; but it
cannot be omitted where the varnish is wanted to behard; though,
when a softer will answer the end, the proportion maybe diminished,
and a little crude turpentine added to the gum-animito take off the
brittleness.
1
L
I
A very good varnish, entirely free from all brittleness, may be form-
ed by dissolving as much gum-animi as the oil will take in old nut or
poppy-oil; which must be made to boil gently when te gum is put
into it. The ground of white colour itself may be laid n in this var-
nish, and then a coat or two of it may be put over the gound; but it
must be well diluted with oil of turpentine when it is used This, though
free from brittleness, is nevertheless liable to suffer by bing indented
or bruised by any slight strokes; and it will not well ber any polish,
but may be brought to a very smooth surface without it fit be judici-
ously managed in the laying it on. It is likewise somewat tedious in
drying, and will require some time where several coats re laid on, as
the last ought not to contain much oil of turpentine.
Blue Japan Grounds. But japan grounds may be formed of bright.
Prussian-blue or of verditer, glazed over by Prussian-Hue or smalt.
The colour may be best mixed with shell-lac varnish, andbrought to a


3 X
522
JAPAKNING.
polishing state býve or six coats of varnish of seed-lac; but the var-
nish, nevertheles,yill somewhat injure the colour, by giving to a true
blue a cast of gre, and fouling, in some degree, a warm blue by the
yellow it contains where, therefore, a bright blue is required, and a
less degree of hamess can be dispensed with, the method before di-
rected in the casef white grounds must be pursued,
·
Red Japan Grinds.For a scarlet japan ground, vermilion may be
used but the veilion has a glaring effect, that renders: it much less
beautiful than thcrimson produced by glazing it over with carmine
or fine lake, or en with rose pink, which has a very good effect used
for this purpose For a very bright crimson, nevertheless, instead of
glazing with canine, the Indian lake should be used, dissolved in
the spirit of whit the varnish is compounded, which it readily admits
of when good; ad in this case, instead of glazing with the shell-lac var-
nish, the upper polishing coats need only be used, as they will equal-
ly receive and envey the tinge of the Indian lake, which may be ac-
tually dissolved by spirits of wine; and, this will be found a much
cheaper method han the using carmine. If however, the highest de-
gree of brightnes is required, the white varnish must be used,
་
4025
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Yellow Japan Grounds. For bright yellow grounds, King's yellow,
or turpeth minral, should be employed, either, alone or mixed with
fine Dutch pin, and the effect may be still more heightened by dissolv-
ing powderedurmeric-root in the spirits of wine of which the upper
or polishing cat is made, which spirits of wine must be strained from
off the dregs fore the seed-lac be added to it, to form the varnish;
1
magan
2
+
•
The seed-la varnish is not equally injurious here, and with greens,
ns is the cast of other colours; because, being only tinged with a
reddish yellow it is little more than an addition to the force of the
.colours. ·
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Yellow gronds may be likewise formed of Dutch pink only, which,
when good, wl not be wanting in brightness, though extremely cheap.
·
Green Japa Grounds Green grounds may be produced by mix-
ing King's yelow and bright Prussian-blue, or rather turpeth mineral
and Prussian-lue. And a cheap but fouler kind of verdigris, with a
little of the abve mentioned yellows or Dutch pink. But where a very
bright green s wanted, the crystals of verdigris, called distilled verdi-
gris, should la employed; and to heighten, the effect, they should be
laid on a grund of leaf-gold, which renders the colour extremely bril
liant and plesing.
3 ketadi berd detry diarey kong vazi
• Orange Joan Grounds. Orange-coloured japan grounds may be
formed by mixing vermilion, or red, lead, with King's yellow or Dutch
pink, or the orange lake, which will make a brighter orange ground
than can be produced by any mixture.
*
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• Purple Juan Grounds. Purple Japan grounds may be produced
by the mixture of lake and Prussian,blue; of a darker kind, by ver-
milion and russian, blue. They may be treated as the rest with re-
spect to the varnish.
L
thats of
:
Black Jujar Grounds without Heal¬Black grounds may be formed
by either iory black or lamp black; but the former is preferable
where it is perfectly good. These may always be laid on with shell-
lae varnish; and have their upper or polishing coats of common seed-
lac varnish, as the tinge or foulness of the varnish can here be no
injury.
;
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3

1


JAPANNING.
528
+
I
Common Black Japan Grounds on Iron or Copper, produced by Means
of Heal. For forming the black japan grounds by means of heat, the
piece of work to be japanned must be painted over with drying oil,
and a little lamp black; and when it is of a moderate dryness, must
be exposed to such a degree of heat as will change the oil to black,
without burning so as to destroy or weaken its tenacity. The stove
should not be too hot when the work is put into it, nor the heat in-
creased too fast, either of which errors would make it blister; but the
slower the heat is augmented, and the longer it is continued, provid-
ed it be restrained within the due degree, the harder will be the coat
of japan. This kind of varnish requires no polish, having received,
when properly managed, a sufficient one from the heat.
1
*
·
The fine Tortoise shell Japan Ground, produced by Means of Heat
The best kind of tortoise-shell ground produced by heat is not less valu
able for its great hardness, and enduring to be made hotter than boil-
ing water without damage, than for its beautiful appearance. It is to
be made by means of a varnish prepared in the following manner:
Take of good linseed-oil one gallon, and of umber half a pound;
boil them together till the oil become very brown and thick; strain it
through a coarse cloth, and set it again to boil; in which state it must
be continued till it acquire a pitchy consistence, when it will be fit för
9 Www .i.
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use.
1
I
1

·
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*
:
Having thus prepared the varnish, clean well the iron or copper
plate, or other pieces which are to be japanned, and then lay vermilion
tempered with shell-lac varnish, or with drying oil diluted with oil of
turpentine, very thinly, on the places intended to imitate the more
transparent parts of the tortoise-shell. When the vermilion is dry,
brush over the whole with the black varnish, tempered to a true con-
sistence with oil of turpentine; and when it is set and firm, put the
work into a stove, where it may undergo a very strong heat, and must
be continued a considerable time: if even three weeks or a month it
will be the better.
:
→
This was given amongst other receipts by Kunekel; but appear to
have been neglected till it was revived with great success in the Bir-
mingham manufactures, where it was not only the ground of snuff-
boxes, dressing-boxes, and other such lesser pieces; but of those beau-
ful tea-waiters which have been so justly esteemed and admired in
several parts of Europe, where they have been sent. This ground
may be decorated with painting and gilding, in the same manner as
any other varnished surface, which had best be done after the ground
has been duly hardened by the hot stove; but it would be best to give
a second annealing with a more gentle heat, after it is finished.
Method of Painting Japan Work-Japan work ought properly to be
painted with colours in varnish; though, for the greater dispatch, and
in some very nice work in small, for the freer use of the pencil, the
colours are sometimes tempered in oil; which should previously have
a fourth part of its weight of gum-aním dissolved in it; or in default
of that, gum-sandarac or gum-mastic. When the oil is thus used, it
should be well diluted with oil of turpentine, that the colours may lay
more evenly and thin; by which means, fewer of the polishing or up-
per coats of varnish become necessary.
Y
In some instances, water colours are laid on grounds of gold, in
the manner of other paintings; and are best when so used in their
BRA
JAYANNING.
proper appearance, without any varnish over them; and they are
also sometimes so managed as to have the effect of embossed work.
The colours employed in this way for painting are best prepared by
means of isinglass size, corrected by honey or sugar-candy. The body
of which the embossed work is raised, need not, however, be tinged
with the exterior colour, but may be best formed of very strong gum-
water, thickened to a proper consistence by bole Armenian and
whiting in equal parts; which being laid on the proper figure, and re-
paired when dry, may be then painted with the proper colours, tem-
pered with the isinglass size, or, in the usual manner, with shell-lac
varnish..
#
1
i.
Manner of Varnishing Japan Work.-The finishing of japan-work
lies in the laying on and polishing the outer coats of varnish which are
necessary, as well in the pieces that have only one simple ground of
colour, as with those that are painted. This is in general done best
with common seed-lac varnish, except in the instances, and on those
occasions, where we have already shewn other methods to be more
expedient; and the same reasons which decide as to the fitness or im-
propriety of the varnishes, with respect to, the colours of the ground,
hold equally with regard to those of the painting. For where bright-
ness is the most material point, and a tinge of yellow will injure it,
seed-lac must give way to the whiter gums; but where hardness and
a greater tenacity are most essential, it must be adhered to; and
where both are so necessary, that it is proper one should give way to
the other in a certain degree reciprocally, a mixed varnish must be
adopted.
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This mixed varnish, as we have already observed, should be made
of the picked seed-lac. The common seed-lac varnish, which is the
most useful preparation of the kind hitherto invented, may be thus
made:
}
*
•
*
↓



}
{
*
Take of seed-lac three ounces, and put it into water, to free it from
the sticks and filth that are frequently intermixed with it; and which
must be done by stirring it about, and then pouring off the water, and
adding fresh quantities, in order to repeat the operation, till it be freed
from all impurities, as is very effectually done by this means. Dry it
then, and powder it grossly, and put it, with a pint of rectified spirits
of wine, into a bottle, of which it will not fill above two thirds. Shake
the mixture well together, and place the bottle in a gentle heat, till the
seed-lac appears to be dissolved; the shaking being in the meantime
repeated as often as may be convenient: and then pour off all that can
be obtained clear by this method, and strain the remainder through a
coarse cloth. The varnish thus prepared must be kept for use in a
bottle well stopped.
When the spirit of wine is very strong, it will dissolve a greater
proportion of the seed-lac; but this quantity will staturate the com-
mon, which is seldom of a strength sufficient to make varnishes in per-
fection. As the chilling, which is the most inconvenient accident at-
tending varnishes of this kind, is prevented or produced more frequent-
ly according to the strength of the spirit; we shall, therefore, take this
opportunity of shewing a method, by which weaker rectified spirits
may with great ease at any time be freed from the phlegm, and ren-
der it of the first degree of strength..
Take a pint of the common rectified spirits of wine, and put it into
•


■
JAPANNING.
525
a bottle, of which it will not fill above three parts; add to it half an
ounce of pearl-ashes, salt of tartar, or any other alkaline salt, heated
red hot, and powdered as well as it can be without much loss of its
heat. Shake the mixture frequently for the space of half an hour; be-
fore which time, a great part of the phlegm will be separated from the
spirits, and will appear, together with the undissolved part of the salts,
in the bottom of the bottle. Let the spirit be poured off, or freed
from the phlegm and the salt, by means of a tritorium, or separating
funnel; and let half an ounce of the pearl-ashes, heated and powdered
as before, be added to it, and the same treatment repeated. This may
be done a third time, if the quantity of phlegm separated by the ad-
dition of the pearl-ashes appear considerable. An ounce of alum re-
duced to powder, and made hot, but not burnt, must then be put into
the spirit, and suffered to remain some hours, the bottle being fre-
quently shaken; after which, the spirit being poured off from it, will
be fit for use.
▼
The addition of the alum is necessary to neutralize the remains of
the alkaline salt, which would otherwise greatly deprave the spirit,
with respect to varnishes and lacquer where vegetable colours are con-
cerned, and must consequently render another distillation necessary.
i
-
The manner of using the seed-lac or white varnish is the same,
except with regard to the substance used in polishing; which, where a
pure white of a great clearness of other colours is in question, should
be itself white; whereas the browner sorts of polishing-dust, as be-
ing cheaper, and doing their business with greater dispatch, may be
used in other cases. The pieces of work to be varnished should be
placed near a fire, or in a room where there is a stove, and made
perfectly dry; and then the varnish may be rubbed over them by the
proper brushes made for that purpose, beginning in the middle, and
passing the brush to one end, and then with another stroke from the
middle, passing it to the other. But no part should be crossed, or
twice passed over, in forming one coat, where it can be possibly avoid-
ed. When one coat is dry, another must be laid over it; and this
must be contined at least five or six times or more, if, on trial, there
be not sufficient thickness of varnish to bear the polish without laying
bare the painting or ground-colour underneath.
է
When a sufficient number of coats is thus laid on, the work is fit to
be polished; which must be done, in common cases, by rubbing it
with a rag dipped in tripoli or rotten-stone finely powdered; but to-
wards the end of the rubbing, a little oil of any kind should be used
along with the powder; and when the work appears sufficiently bright
and glossy, it should be well rubbed with the oil alone, to clean it
from the powder, and give it a still brighter lustre.
In case of white grounds, instead of tripoli or rotten-stone, fine
putty or whiting must be used; both of which should be washed over
to prevent the danger of damaging the work, from any sand or gritty
inatter that may happen to be mixed with them.
}
It is a great improvement in all kinds of japan-work, to harden the
varnish by means of heat; which in every degree that it can be ap
plied, short of what would burn or calcine the matter, tends to give
it a more firm and strong texture.
Where metal forms the body, a very hot stove may be used; and the
pieces. of work may be continued in it a considerable time, especially
<
526
LACQUERing.
if the heat be gradually increased; but where wood is in question,
heat must be sparingly used, as it would otherwise warp or shrink the
body, so as to injure the general figure.
t
I
CHAP. XII.
LACQUERING.
Job
**
LACQUERING is the laying either coloured or transparent varnishes
on metals, in order to produce the appearance of a different colour in
the metal, or to preserve it from rust, or the injuries of the weather.
#
Lacquering is used where brass is to be made to have the appear-
ance of being gilt, where tin is wanted to have the resemblance of
yellow metals;, and where brass locks or nails, or other such matters,
are to be defended from the corrosion of the air or moisture.
171.
The principal substance used for the composition of lacquers, is seed-
lac; but for coarser purposes resin or turpentine is added, in order to
make the lacquer cheaper,
f
•
A Lacquer for Brass, to imitate Gilding-Take of turmeric one ounce,
and of saffron and Spanish annatto, each two drachms. Put them
into a proper bottle with a pint of highly rectified spirits of wine, and
place them in a moderate heat, often shaking them for several days. A
very strong yellow. tincture will then be obtained, which must be
strained off from the dregs through a coarse linen cloth, and then,
being put back into the bottle, three ounces of good seed-lac, powder-
ed grossly, must be added, and the mixture placed again in a mo-
derate heat, and shaken till the seed-lac be dissolved, or at least such a
part of it as may. The lacquer must then be strained, and must be
put into a bottle well corked.
+
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#
Where it is desired to have the lacquer warmer or redder than
this composition, the proportion of the annatto must be increased;
and where it is wanted cooler, or nearer to a true yellow, it must be
diminished.
+

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Jui to
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The above, properly managed, is an extremely good lacquer, and
of moderate price; but the following, which is cheaper, and may be
made where the Spanish annatto cannot be procured good, is not
greatly inferior to it
by
Take of turmeric root, ground, one ounce, of the best dragon's
blood half a drachm; put them to a pint of spirits of wine, and proceed as
above. By diminishing the proportion of dragon's blood, the varnish
may be rendered of a redder or truer yellow cast.
I
:
Saffron is sometimes used to form the body of colour in this kind
of lacquer, instead of the turmeric; but though it makes a warmer
yellow, yet the dearness of it, and the advantage which turmeric has in
forming a much stronger tinge in spirits of wine, gives it the prefer-
ence. Though being a true yellow, and consequently not sufficiently
warm to overcome the greenish cast of brass, it requires the addition of
some orange-coloured tinge to make it a perfect lacquer.
•
+
Aloes and gamboge are also sometimes used in lacquers for brass •

LACQUERING.
527
but the aloes are not necessary where turmeric or ffron is used; and the
gamboge, though a very strong milky juice in wer; affords but a very
weak tinge in spirits of wine.
20:1

A Lacquer for Tin, to imitate a Yellow Metal-Take of turmeric root
one ounce, of dragon's blood two drachms, anof spirits of wine one
pint; add a sufficient quantity of seed-lac.
A Lacquer for Locks, &c.Seed-lac varnish lone, or with a little
dragon's blood or a compound varnish of equs parts of seed-lac and
resin, with or without the dragon's blood.
:.
•
A Gold-coloured Lacquer for gilding Leather What is called gili
leather, and used for skreens, borders for roos, &c. is only leather
covered with silver leaf, and lacquered with theollowing composition:
Take of fine white resin four pounds and analf, of common resin
the same quantity, of gum sandarac two ponds and a half, and of
aloes two pounds, mix them together, afte having Bruised those
which are in great pieces, and put them into an earthen pot, over a
good fire made of charcoal, or over any fire there there is no flame.
Melt all the ingredients in this manner, stirring them well with a spa-
tula, that they may be thoroughly mixed togther, and be prevented,
also from sticking to the bottom of the pot. When they are perfectly
melted, and mixed, and gradually to them even pints of linseed oil,
and stir the whole well together with the satula. Make the whole
boil, stirring it all the time to prevent a kid of sediment that will
form, from sticking to the bottom of the vessl. When the varnish is
almost sufficiently boiled, add gradually half an ounce of litharge, or
half an ounce of red-lead, and when they are assolved, pass the varnish
through a linen cloth, or flannel bag.
el
24
}
IN
14
The time of boiling this varnish should be about seven or eight
hours. This, however, varies according to circumstances. The way
of knowing when it is sufficiently boiled, is ly taking a little on some
instrument, and if it draws out and is ropy and sticks to the fingers,
drying on them it is done; but if not, it must be boiled till it aequires
these qualities.
2
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M
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:
CHAP. XIII.
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1 1
T
3 ***
*
GILDING.
GILDING is the application of gold to the surfaces of bodies: it is of
two principal kinds, according to the method of applying the gold.
Wood, leather, paper, and similar substances, are gilt by fastening on
leaves of gold by means of some cement. But metals are gilt by a che
mical application of the gold to the surface. This last is called water
gilding.
է
The gilding of wood, and similar substances, is of three kinds; oil
gilding, burnished gilding, and japanners gilding, which we shall sever-
ally describe; after noticing the materials and tools necessary for going
to work.
*
:
1
528
CILDING.
་

Of Gold-Leaf.-The are three kinds of gold-leaf in common use.
Pure gold-leaf, whicis made by hammering gold between the leaves
of a book made of skin till they are sufficiently thin.
Pale leaf-gold, whichas a greenish colour, and is made of gold al-
loyed with silver.
Dutch gold, which is rought from Holland, and is in fact only cop-
per-leaf coloured by thfumes of zinc. It
It is much cheaper than true
leaf-gold, and is very ful where large quantities of gilding are want-
ed, which can be defened from the weather, and where great nicety is
not required; but it chages its colour entirely when exposed to mois-
ture; and, indeed, in a cases, its beauty is soon impaired, unless well
secured by varnish. Itis therefore only a cheap substitute for true
gold-leaf, which may be seful where durability is not an object.
Of the Instruments necssary for Gilding.-The first instrument is the
cushion, for receiving th leaves of gold from the books in which they
are bought. It is made by covering a board of about eight inches
square, with a double thikness of flannel, and over that, a piece of
buff leather, and fastening it tight round the edges.
The knife for cutting he leaves into the requisite sizes, should be
made like a pallet knife, nd should not have its edge too sharp.
The tip is a tool made jy fastening the long hairs of a squirrel's tail
between two cards, and is used for taking up the gold-leaf after it is
cut, and applying it to the article to be gilded.
A fitch pencil is used fo the same purpose as the last, in taking up
very small bits of gold-lef. A ball of cotton is necessary for pressing
down the leaf, after it is aid on. A large camel's-hair brush is used
for dusting the work, and clearing away the superfluous gold..
Oil Gilding. First prime your work with boiled linseed oil and
white-lead; and when tha is dry, do it over with a thin coat of gold-
size, made of stone ochre ground in fat oil. When that is so dry as
to feel clammy to the fingers, or to be, as the gilders call it, tacky, it is
fit for gilding. Having spread your leaves upon the cushion, cut them
into slips of the proper width for covering your work. Then breathe
upon your tip, which, by moistening it, will cause it to take up the
leaves from the cushion. Having applied them by the tip on the pro-
per parts of your work, press them down by the ball of cotton. Ob-
serve to repair, by putting small pieces of gold on any parts which you
have omitted to cover. When all your work is sufficiently covered,
let it dry, and clean it off with the brush.
This sort of gilding is the easiest, least expensive, and stands the
weather best, and may be cleaned with a little water at any time; but
wants the lustre of burnish gilding.
Burnished Gilding.-This is the sort of gilding generally used for
picture-frames, looking-glasses, &c.
•
The wood intended to be gilt in this manner, should first be well
sized, and then done over with seven or eight coats of size and whit-
ing, so as to cover it with a body of considerable thickness. Having
got a sufficient quantity of whiting upon the work, it must be carefully
cleaned off, taking care to free all the cavities, and hollows from the
whiting that may have choked them up, and by proper moulds and
tools, restoring the sharpness of the mouldings intended to be shewn.
It is then to receive a coat of size, which is made by boiling arme-
nian bole with parchment size. This must also remain till it is suffi-
*
S

GILDING.
529
ciently dry for the gold. It must not be quite dry, therefore it would
not be prudent to lay on more at a time, than can be gilt before it be
comes too dry.
The work being thus prepared, place it a little declining from you,
and having ready a cup of clean water, and some hair pencils, moisten
a part of the work, and then apply the gold by the tip to the moisten-
ed part. The gold will immediately adhere close to the work: proceed
to wet the next part, and apply the gold as before, repeating this ope-
ration till the whole is completed; taking care not to let any drops of
water come upon any part of the gold already laid on. Care should
therefore be taken, that no part be missed in going over it at first, as it
is not so easily mended as the oil gilding.
The work being thus gilt, it is suffered to remain about twenty-four
hours; when the parts that are designed to be burnished are polished
with a dog's tooth, or what is better, with an agate burnisher. The
gilding must not be quite dry when it is burnished: there is a state
proper for the purpose, which is only to be known by experience.
Japanners Gilding-The gilding of japanned work consists in draw-
ing with a hair pencil, in gold size, the intended ornaments, and af-
terwards applying gold leaf or gold powder.
The gold size may be prepared in the following manner: Take of
linseed-oil, and of gum animi, four ounces. Set the oil to boil in a
proper vessel, and then add the gum animi gradually in powder, stir-
ring each quantity about in the oil, till it appear to be dissolved, and
then putting in another, till the whole be mixed with the oil. Let the
mixture continue to boil, till, on taking a small quantity out, it appear
of a thicker consistence than tar, and then strain the whole through a
coarse cloth, and keep it for use; but it must, when applied, be mixed
with vermilion and oil of turpentine.
Having laid on the gold size, and suffered it to dry, the gold leaf is
applied in the usual way, or if it is not wanted to shine so much, gold
powder is applied, which is made by grinding gold leaf upon a stone
with honey, and afterwards washing the honey away with water. If
the gilding is to be varnished over, Dutch gold may be used, or aurum
musivum may be used instead of real gold powder.
To write on Paper with Letters of Gold-Put some gum arabic into
common writing ink, and write with it in the usual way. When the
writing is dry, breathe on it; the warmth and moisture softens the
gum, and will cause it to fasten on the gold leaf, which may be laid
on in the usual way, and the superfluous part brushed off. Or instead
of this, any japanners' size may be used.
To lay Gold upon White Earthen-ware, or Glass.-Procure some
japanners gold size, and with it draw your design upon the vessel to
be gilt, moistening the gold size, as you find necessary, with oil of
turpentine. Set your work in a clean place to dry, for about an hour,
and then place it so near the fire that you could but just bear the heat
of it with your hand for a few seconds. Let it remain there till it feels
quite tacky or clammy, then, having procured a cushion, and some
leaf gold, cut it into slips of the proper size, and lay it on with a little
cotton wool. When the gold is all on, put the ware into an oven to
be baked for two or three hours.
Glasses, &c. may also be gilt, by drawing the figures with shell gold
警
​

3 Y
530
GILDING.
mixed with gum arabic, and a little borax. Then apply sufficient heat
to it, and lastly, burnish it.
}
Gilding on Glass or Porcelain, by Burning-in.-Dissolve gold in aqua
regia, and evaporate the acid by heat; you will obtain a gold powder;
or precipitate the gold from the solution by pieces of copper. Lay
this gold on with a strong solution of borax and gum water, and it
will be ready for burning-in.
Gilding Metals.-One method of applying gold upon metals, is by
first cleaning the metal to be gilt; then gold leaf is laid on it, which, by
means of rubbing with a polished blood stone, and a certain degree of
heat, are made to adhere perfectly well. In this manner silver leaf is
fixed and burnished upon brass, in the making of what is called
French plate; and sometimes also gold leaf is burnished upon copper
and iron.
Gilding by Amalgamation is by previously forming the gold into a
paste, or amalgam, with mercury.
In order to obtain an amalgam of gold and mercury, the gold is first
to be reduced into thin plates or grains, which are heated red-hot, and
thrown into mercury previously heated, till it begins to smoke. Upon
stirring the mercury with an iron rod, the gold totally disappears.
The proportion of mercury to gold, is generally as six or eight to one.
The method of gilding by amalgamation, is chiefly used for gilding
copper, or an alloy of copper, with a small portion of zinc, which
more readily receives the amalgam, and is also preferable, on account
of its colour, which more resembles that of gold than the colour of
copper.
When the metal to be gilt is wrought or chased, it ought to be pre-
`viously covered with quick-silver before the amalgam is applied, that
this may be easier spread; but when the surface of the metal is plane,
the amalgam may be directly applied to it.
The metal required to be gilt is first rubbed over with a little aqua-
fortis, by which the surface is cleaned from any rust or tarnish that
might prevent the union of the two metals. The amalgam being then
equally spread over the surface by means of a brush, the mercury is
evaporated by a heat just sufficient for that purpose; for if it be too
great, part of the gold may also be expelled, and part of it will run to-
gether, and leave some of the surface of the metal bare. While the
mercury is evaporating, the piece is to be from time to time taken
from the fire, that it may be examined; that the amalgam may be
spread more equally by means of a brush; that any defective parts of
it may be again covered, and that the heat may not be too suddenly
applied to it. When the mercury is evaporated, which is known by
the surface becoming entirely of a dull yellow colour, the metal must
then undergo other operations, by which the fine gold colour is given
to it.

First, the gilded piece of metal is rubbed with a scratch-brush (which
is a brush composed of brass-wire), till its surface is made smooth;
then it is covered over with a composition, called gilding wax, and is
again exposed to the fire till the wax be burnt off. This wax is com-
posed of bees-wax, sometimes mixed with some of the following sub-
stances: red ochre, verdigris, copper scales, alum, vitriol, borax; but,
according to Dr. Lewis, the saline substances are sufficient, without
any wax.
•
GILDING.
531
1
7
By this operation the colour of the gilding is heightened; and this
effect seems to be produced by a perfect dissipation of some mercury
remaining after the former operation.
The gilt surface is then covered over with a saline composition, con-
sisting of nitre, alum, or other vitriolic salt, ground together, and
mixed up into a paste with water or urine. The piece of metal thus
covered is exposed to a certain degree of heat, and then quenched in
water. By this method its colour is further improved, and brought
nearer to that of gold. This effect seems to be produced by the acid of
nitre (which is disengaged by the sulphuric acid of the alum, during
the exposure to heat) acting upon any particles of copper which may
happen to lie upon the gilded surface.
Lastly, some artists think that they give an additional lustre to their
gilt work, by dipping it in a liquor prepared by boiling some yellow
materials, as sulphur, or piment or turmeric. The only advantage of this
operation is, that part of the yellow matter remains in some of the
hollows of the carved work, in which the gilding is apt to be more im-
perfect, and to which it gives a rich and solid appearance.

It may here be noticed, that the use of the aquafortis or nitrous
acid, mentioned in the beginning of the process, is not, as is generally
supposed, confined merely to cleansing the surface of the metal to be
gilt from rust or tarnish; but it also greatly facilitates the application
of the amalgam to the surface of that metal, probably in the following
manner: It first dissolves part of the mercury of the amalgam; and
when this solution is applied to the copper, this latter metal having a
stronger disposition to unite with the nitrous acid than the mercury has,
precipitates the mercury upon its surface, in the same manner as a po-
lished piece of iron precipitates upon its surface copper from a solution
of blue vitriol. When the metal to be gilt is thus covered over with a
thin coat of precipitated mercury, it readily receives the amalgam.
On the subject of gilding by amalgamation, Dr. Lewis has the fol-
lowing remarks: "There are two principal inconveniences in this
business; one, that the workmen are exposed to the fumes of the mer-
cury, and generally, sooner or later, have their health greatly impaired
by them: the other, the loss of the mercury; for though part of it is
said to be detained in the cavities made in the chimnies for that pur-
pose, yet the greatest part of it is lost. From some trials I have made,
it appeared that both these inconveniences, particularly the first and
most considerable one, might be in a good measure avoided, by means
of a furnace of a due construction."

If the communication of a furnace with its chimney, instead of be-
ing over the fire, is made under the grate, the ash-pit door, or other
apertures beneath the grate, closed, and the mouth of the furnace left
open, the current of air, which otherwise would have entered beneath,
enters now at the top, and passing down through the grate to the
chimney, carries with it completely both the vapour of the fuel, and
the fumes of such matters as are placed upon it. The back part of the
furnace should be raised a little higher above the fire than the fore part
and an iron plate laid over it, that the air may enter only at the front
where the workman stands, who will be thus effectually secured from
the fumes, and from being incommoded by the heat, and at the same
time have full liberty of introducing, inspecting, and removing the
work
532
GILDING.
If such a furnace is made of strong forged (rot milled) iron plate,
it will be sufficiently durable. The upper end of the chimney may
reach above a foot and a half higher than the level of the fire; over
this is to be placed a larger tube, leaving an interval of an inch or
more, all round between it and the chimney, and reaching to the
height of ten or twelve feet; the higher the better. The external air
passing up between the chimney and the outer pipe, prevents the lat-
ter from being much heated, so that the mercurial fumes will condense
against its sides into running quicksilver, which falling down to the
bottom, is there catched in a hollow rim, formed by turning inwards
a portion of the lower part, and conveyed by a pipe at one side into
a proper receiver.
•
Gilding Iron or Steel.-In gilding iron or steel by means of an amal-
gam, as the metal has no affinity for the mercury, an agent must be
employed to dispose the surface to receive the gilding. For this pur-
pose, a solution of mercury in nitrous acid (aquafortis), or what the
workmen call quicksilver water, is applied to the parts intended to be
gilded; the acid, by a stronger affinity, seizes on a portion of the iron,
and deposits in the place of it a thin coating of mercury, which will
not refuse a union afterwards with the gold amalgam that may be ap-
plied; but by this process, the surface of the metal is injured by the
nitrous acid, and the union of the mercury is very slight, so that a
bright and durable gilding cannot be obtained.
Another method. Sometimes a solution of blue vitriol is applied with a
camel's-hair pencil to the parts of the steel intended to be gilt. By a
chemical action, exactly similar to what we have described as taking
place when a solution of nitrate of mercury is employed, a thin coat-
ing of copper is precipitated on the metal. Copper having an affinity
for mercury, a kind of union may by this means be effected between
the amalgam and the iron or steel, as the case may be. In whichever of
these ways the amalgam be brought into union with the steel, the sur-
face is injured by the action of the acid employed, and still a heat suffi-
cient to volatilize the mercury must be afterwards used.
Gilding of Iron by Heat. When the surface is polished bright, it
must be heated till it becomes blue. Gold leaf is then applied to its
surface, and burnished down. It is then heated again, and another
layer of gold burnished on it.. In this manner three or four coats are
given, according to the strength of the gilding intended. This is a
more laborious process than the two last, but it is not attended with so
much risk.
d
An improved Process for Gilding Iron or Steel. --This process, which
is less known among artists than it deserves to be, may prove useful to
those who have occasion to gild iron or steel. The first part of the pro-
cess consists in pouring over a solution of gold in nitro-muriatic acid
(aqua regia) about twice as much ether, which must be done with cau-
tion, and in a large vessel. These liquids must then be shaken together;
as soon as the mixture is at rest, the ether will be seen to separate itself
from the nitro-muriatic acid, and to float on the surface. The nitro-
muriatic acid becomes more transparent, and the ether darker than they
were before; the reason of which is, that the ether has taken the gold
from the acid. The whole mixture is then to be poured into a glass fun-
nel, the lower aperture of which is small; but this aperture must not
be opened till the fluids have completely separated themselves from each
GILDING.
533
other. It is then to be opened; by which means the liquid which has
taken the lowest place by its greater gravity, viz. the nitro-muriatic
acid, will run off; after which, the aperture is to be shut, and the fun-
nel will then be found to contain nothing but ether mixed with the gold;
which is to be put into well-closed bottles, and preserved for use. In
order to gild iron or steel, the metal must first be well polished with the
finest emery, or rather with the finest crocus martis or colcothar of vi-
triol, and common brandy. The auriferous ether is then to be applied
with a small brush; the ether soon evaporates, and the gold remains
on the surface of the metal. The metal may then be put into the fire,
and afterwards polished. By means of this auriferous ether, all kinds of
figures may be delineated on iron, by employing a pen, or fine brush.
It is in this manner, we believe, that the Sohlinger sabre blades are
gilded.
Instead of ether, the essential oils may be used, such as oil of turpen-
tine, or oil of lavender, which will also take gold from its solution.
# Cold Gilding of Silver.-Dissolve gold in the nitro-muriatic acid, and
dip some linen rags in the solution; then burn them, and carefully pre-
serve the ashes, which will be very black, and heavier than common.
When any thing is to be gilded, it must be previously well burnished;
a piece of cork is then to be dipped, first into a solution of salt in water,
and afterwards into the black powder; and the piece, after being rubbed
with it, must be burnished. This powder is frequently used for gild-
ing delicate articles of silver.
Gilding of Brass or Copper.-Fine instruments of brass, in order that
their surface may be kept longer clean, may be gilded in the following
manner :
Provide a saturated solution of gold, and having evaporated it to the
consistence of oil, suffer it to shoot into crystals. These crystals must
then be dissolved in pure water, and the articles to be gilded being im-
mersed in it, are then to be washed in pure water, and afterwards bur-
nished. This process may be repeated several times, till the articles
have been well gilt. A solution of gold crystals is preferred to a mere
solution of gold, because, in the latter, there is always a portion of free
acid, which will not fail to exercise more or less action on the surface
the brass or copper, and injure its polish.
Grecian Gilding-Dissolve some mercury in muriatic acid (spirits of
salt), which will give a muriat of mercury. Mix equal parts of this and
sal ammoniac, and dissolve them in aquafortis. Put some gold into this,
and it will dissolve.-When this is applied to silver, it becomes black;
but, by heating, it assumes the appearance of gilding.
To make Shell-Gold.-Grind up gold leaf with honey, in a mortar ;
then wash away the honey with water, and mix the gold powder with
gum water.
This may be applied to any article with a camel's hair pen-
eil, in the same way as any other colour.
SILVERING-Wood, paper, &c. are silvered in the same manner as gild-
ing is performed, using only silver instead of gold leaf.
To silver Copper or Brass.-Cleanse the metal with aquafortis, by
washing it lightly, and then throwing it into water; or by scouring it
with salt and tartar with a wire brush. Dissolve some silver in aquafor-
tis, and put pieces of copper into the solution; this will throw down the
silver in a state of a metallic powder. Take fifteen or twenty grains of this

534
SILVERING.
silver powder, and mix with it two drachms of tartar, the same quantity.
of common salt, and half a drachm of alum; rub the articles with this.
composition till they are perfectly white, then brush it off, and polish
them with leather,
Another method.-Precipitate silver from its solution in aquafortis by
copper, as before; to half an ounce of this silver, add common salt and
sal ammoniac, of each two ounces, and one drachm of corrosive subli-
mate; rub them together, and make them into a paste with water.
With this, copper utensils of every kind, that have been previously boiled
with tartar and alum, are rubbed; after which they are made red hot
and polished.
To Silver the Dial-plates of Clocks, Scales of Barometers, &c.-Take
half an ounce of silver lace, add thereto an ounce of double refined aqua-
fortis, put them into an earthen pot, and place them over 2 gentle fire
till all is dissolved, which will happen in about five minutes; then take
them off, and mix it in a pint of clear water, after which, pour it into
another clean vessel, to free it from grit or sediment; then add a spoon-
ful of common salt, and the acid, which has now a green tinge, will
immediately let go the silver particles, which form themselves into a
white curd; pour off the acid, and mix the curd with two ounces of
salt of tartar, half an ounce of whiting, and a large spoonful of salt,
more or less, according as you find it for strength. Mix it well up to-
gether, and it is ready for use.
Having well cleared the brass from scratches, rub it over with a piece
of old hat and rotten-stone, to clear it from all greasiness, and then rub
it with salt and water with your hand: take a little of the beforemen-
tioned composition on your finger, and rub it over where the salt has
touched, and it will adhere to the brass, and completely silver it. After
which wash it well with water, to take off what aquafortis may remain in
the composition; when dry, rub it with a clean rag, and give it one or
two coats of varnish, prepared according to the directions given under
the article varnishes.
This silvering is not durable, but may be improved by heating the
article, and repeating the operation till the covering seems sufficiently
thick.
Silver Plating.—The coat of silver applied to the surface of the cop-
per by the means mentioned above, is very thin, and is not durable.
A more substantial method of doing it, is as follows: form small pieces
of silver and copper, and tie them together with wire, putting a little
borax between. The proportion of silver may be to that of the copper
as 1 to 12. Put them into a white heat, when the silver will be firm-
ly fixed to the copper. The whole is now made to pass between rol-
lers, till it is of the required thickness for manufacturing various ar-
J
ticles.
To make French Plate.-Heat the copper articles intended to be
plated, and burnish silver leaf on it with a burnisher.
To make Shell Silver.-Grind up leaf silver with gum-water or ho-
ney; when you have ground it, wash away the gum or honey, and
use the powder that remains with gum-water or glair of eggs. This is
laid on with a hair pencil.
To silver Looking Glasses.-In order to go completely forward, you
must be prepared with the following articles:
First, a square n arble slab or smooth stone, well polished, and
SILVERING.
535
ground exceedingly true, the larger the better, with a frame round it,
or a groove cut in its edges, to keep the superfluous mercury from
running off. Secondly, Lead weights covered with cloth, to keep
them from scratching the glass, from one pound weight to twelve
pounds each, according to the size of the glass which is laid down.
Thirdly, Rolls of tinfoil. Fourthly, Mercury or quicksilver, with
which you must be well provided; then proceed as follows:
Cut the tinfoil a little larger than the glass every way, and lay it
flat upon the stone; and with a straight piece of hard wood, about
three inches long, stroke it every way, that there be no creases or
wrinkles in it, then drop a little mercury upon it, and with a piece
of cotton, wool, or hare's-foot, spread it all over the foil, so that
every part may be touched with the mercury. Then keeping the
marble slab nearly level with the horizon, pour on the mercury all over
the foil, cover it with a fine paper, and lay two weights very near its
lowest end or side, to keep the glass steady while you draw the pa-
per from between the silver foil and the glass, which must be laid
upon the
paper. As you draw the paper, you must take care that no
air-bubbles be left, for they will always appear if left in at the first;
you must likewise be sure to make the glass as clean as possible on
the side intended to be silvered, and have the paper also quite clean,
otherwise, when you have drawn the paper from under it, dull white
streaks will appear, which are very disagreeable.
After the paper is drawn out, place as many weights upon the glass
as you conveniently can, in order to press out the superfluous mercury,
and make the foil adhere to the glass. When it has lain six or seven
hours in this situation, raise the stone about two or three inches at its
highest end, that as much of the mercury may run off as possible: let
it remain two days before you venture to take it up; but before you
take the weights off, gently brush the edges of the glass, that no mer◄
cury may adhere to them; then take it up, and turn it directly over,
with its face side downward, but raise it by degrees that the mercury
may not drip off too suddenly; for if, when taken up, it is immediately
set perpendicular, air will get in between the foil and the glass at the
top, as the mercury descends to the bottom; by which means, if you
be not exceedingly careful, your labour will be lost.
Another method is to slide the glass over the foil, without the as-
sistance of paper.
.
To silver Glass Globes.—Take half an ounce of clean lead, and melt
it with an equal weight of pure tin; then immediately add half an
ounce of bismuth, and carefully skim off the dross; remove the mix-
ture from the fire, and before it grows cold, add five ounces of mer-
cury, and stir the whole well together; then put the fluid amalgam
into a clean glass, and it is fit for use.
When this amalgam is used for foiling or silvering, let it first be
strained through a linen rag; then gently pour some ounces thereof into
the globe intended to be foiled; the mixture should be poured into the
globe, by means of a glass or paper funnel reaching almost to the bot-
tom of the globe, to prevent its splashing to the sides; the globe
should then be dexterously inclined every way, though very slowly,
in order to fasten the silvering: when this is once done, let the globe
rest some hours; repeat the operation, till at length the fluid mass is
spread even, and fixed over the whole internal surface; as it may be
536
TINNING.
known to be, by viewing the globe against the light; the superfluous
amalgam may then be poured out, and the outside of the globe cleared.
To silver the Convex Side of Meniscus Glasses for Mirrors.-Take an
earthen plate, on which pour some prepared plaster of Paris, mixed
with water, of a proper consistence; then immediately, before it grows
too stiff, lay the meniscus with its convex side downward in the mid-
dle of the plate, and press it until it lies quite close to the plaster;
in which situation let it remain until the plaster becomes quite dry;
after which, work a groove with your finger round the outside of the
meniscus, in order to let the superfluous mercury rest upon it; then
cut the tinfoil to a proper size, and press it with the meniscus into
the plaster mould, in order to make it lie close; after which cover
it with the mercury, and, without a paper (as directed for silvering
plain mirrors), slide it over the silvered foil; then place a weight on
it, and let it stand two or three days, raising it by degrees, that the
mercury may drip off gradually.
After this method common window glass, &c. may be silvered.
To lay Paper Prints on the Inside of Glass Globes. First, Cut off all
the white part of your impression, so that nothing appear but the print;
then prepare some strong gum-arabic water or size, with which you
must brush over the face side; after which put it into the globe, and
with a long small stick, on which a camel's-hair pencil is fixed, stick
it even on, and by this method you may put what number of prints
you please into the globe; let them dry about twelve hours, then
pour some prepared plaster of Paris, either white or tinged, what
soever colour you please, and turn the globe easily about, so that
every part be covered: pour out the superfluous plaster, and it i
finished.
TINNING.-Tinning is the art of covering any metal with a thir
coating of tin. Copper and iron are the metals most commonly tinned
The use of tinning these metals is to prevent them from being cor-
roded by rust, as tin is not so easily acted upon by the air or wate
as iron and copper are.
What are commonly called tin-plates, or sheets, so much used for
utensils of various kinds, are in fact iron plates coated with tin.
The principal circumstance in the art of tinning, is to have the
surfaces of the metal to be tinned perfectly clean and free from rust,
and also that the melted tin be perfectly metallic, and not covered
with any ashes or calyx of tin.
Tinning of Iron.--When iron plates are to be tinned, they are first
scoured, and then put into what is called a pickle, which is oil of vi-
triol diluted with water; this dissolves the rust or oxyde that was left
after scouring, and renders the surface perfectly clean. They are
then again washed and scoured. They are now dipped into a vessel
full of melted tin, the surface of which is covered with fat or oil, tọ
defend it from the action of the air. By this means, the iron coming
into contact with the melted tin in a perfectly metallic state, it comes
out completely coated.
.
When a small quantity of iron only is to be tinned, it is heated, and
the tin rubbed on with a piece of cloth, or some tow, having first
sprinkled the iron with some powdered resin, the use of which is to
reduce the tin that may be oxydated. Any inflammable substance, as
SOLDERING.
537
!
oil for instance, will have, in some degree, the same effect, which is
owing to their attraction for oxygen.
Tinning of Copper.-Sheets of copper may be tinned in the same
manner as iron. Copper boilers, saucepans, and other kitchen utensils,
are tinned after they are made. They are first scoured, then made
hot, and the tin rubbed on as before with resin. Nothing ought to be
used for this purpose but pure grain tin; but lead is frequently mixed
with the tin, both to adulterate its quality and make it lay on more
easily; but it is a very pernicious practice, and ought to be severely
reprobated.
To whiten Brass or Copper by Boiling.-Put the brass or copper into
a pipkin with some white tartar, alum, and grain tin, and boil them
together: the articles will soon become covered with a coating of tin,
which, when well polished, will look like silver. It is in this manner
that pins and many sorts of buttons are whitened.
BRONZING.-Bronzing is co.ouring plaster, or other busts and figures,
with metallic powders, in order to make them appear as if made of cop-
per or other metals. The powders used for this purpose are either fine
copper filings, aurum musivum, or copper precipitated from its solu-
tion in aquafortis by iron. Having done over the substance to be
bronzed with either isinglass size, japanners' gold size, or, in some
cases, with drying oil or oil-paint, the powders are rubbed on, taking
care that the projecting parts receive more of the powder than the ca-
vities, to imitate the brightness on those parts of bronze which are
liable to be rubbed.
SOLDERING.-Soldering is the art of joining two pieces of metal toge-
ther by heating them, with a thin piece or plate of metal interposed be-
tween them. Thus tin is a solder for lead; brass, gold, or silver, are
solders for iron, &c.
To make Silver Solder.-Melt fine silver two parts, brass one part;
do not keep them long in fusion, lest the brass fly off in fumes.
Another for coarser Silver.--Melt four parts of fine silver, and three
of brass; throw in a little borax, and put it out as soon as it is melted.
A Solder for Gold.--Melt copper one part, fine silver one part, and
gold two parts; add a little borax when it is just melted, then pour it
out immediately.

The Method of soldering Gold or Silver.-After the solder is cast into
an ingot, it would be more ready for use if you were to draw it into
small wire, or flat it between two rollers; after that cut it into little
bits, then join your work together with fine soft iron wire, and with
a camel's-hair pencil dipt in borax finely powdered, and well moistened
with water, touch the joint intended to be soldered; placing a little
solder upon the joint, apply it upon a large piece of charcoal, and,
with a blow-pipe and lamp, blow upon it through the flame until it
melts the solder, and it is done.
To cleanse Silver or Gold after it is soldered.-Make it just red hot,
and let it cool, then boil it in alum water, in an earthen vessel, and it
will be as clean as when new. If gold, boil it in urine and sal-am-
moniae
A Solder for Lead.--Two parts lead and one part tin: its goodness
3 Z
538
MOULDING AND CASTING
is tried by melting it, and pouring the bigness of a crown-piece upon
the table; if it be good, there will arise little bright stars in it. Ap-
ply resin when you use this solder.
A Solder for Tin.--Take four parts of pewter, one of tin, and one
of bismuth; melt them together, and run them into narrow thin
lengths.
A Solder for Iron.--Nothing here is necessary but good_tough brass
with borax applied, mixed with water to the consistence of paste.
CHAP. XIV.
MOULDING AND CASTING.
My
THE art of taking casts or impressions from pieces of sculpture,
medals, &c. is of very great importance in the fine arts.
In order to procure a copy or cast from any figure, bust, medal,
&c. it is necessary to obtain a mould, by pressing upon the thing to
be moulded or copied, some substance,. which, when soft, is capable
of being forced into all the cavities or hollows of the sculpture.
When this mould is dry and hard, some substance is poured into it,
which will fill all the cavities of the mould, and represent the form of
the original from which the mould was taken.
傻
​The particular manner of moulding depends upon the form of the
subject to be worked upon. When there are no projecting parts but
such as form a right or a greater angle with the principal-surface of
the body, nothing more is required than to cover it over with the sub-
stance of which the mould is to be formed, taking care to press it well
into all the cavities of the original, and to take it off clean, and with-
out bending.
¿
The substances used for moulding are various, according to the na-
ture and situation of the sculpture. If it may be laid horizontally,
and will bear to be oiled without injury, plaster of Paris may be ad-
vantageously employed, which may be poured over it to a convenient
thickness, after oiling it to prevent the plaster from sticking. A com-
position of beeswax, resin, and pitch, may also be used, which will be
a very desirable mould if many casts are to be taken from it. But if
the situation of the sculpture bé perpendicular, so that nothing can be
poured upon it, then clay, or some similar substance, must be used.
The best kind of clay for this purpose is that used by the sculptors
for making their models with; it must be worked to a due consistence,
and having spread it out to a size sufficient to cover all the surface, it
must be sprinkled over with whiting, to prevent it from adhering to
the original. Bees-wax and dough, or the crumb of new bread, may
also be used for moulding some small subjects.
When there are under-cuttings in the bas-relief, they must be first
filled up before it can be moulded, otherwise the mould could not be
got off. When the casts are taken afterwards, these places must be
worked out with a proper tool.
When the model, or original subject, is of a round form, or projects
so much that it cannot be moulded in this manner, the mould must be
MOULDING AND CASTING.
539
:
divided into several parts; and it is frequently necessary to cast seve-
ral parts separately, and afterwards to join them together. In this
case, the plaster must be tempered with water to such a consistence
that it may be worked like soft paste, and must be laid on with some
convenient instrument, compressing it so as to make it adapt itself to
all parts of the surface. When the model is so covered to a conve-
nient thickness, the whole must be left at rest till the plaster is set
and firm, so as to bear dividing without falling to pieces, or being lia-
ble to be put out of its form by any slight violence; and it must then
be divided into pieces, in order to its being taken off from the model,
by cutting it with a knife with a very thin blade; and being divided,
must be cautiously taken off, and kept till dry: but it must be ob-
served, before the separation of the parts be made, to notch them
across the joints, or lines of division, at proper distances, that they
may with ease and certainty be properly put together again. The art
of properly dividing the moulds, in order to make them separate from
the model, requires more dexterity and skill than any other thing in the
art of casting, and does not admit of rules for the most advantageous
conduct of it in every case. Where the subject is of a round or sphe-
roidal form, it is best to divide the mould into three parts, which will
then easily come off from the model; and the same will hold good of a
cylinder, or any regular curve figure.
The mould being thus formed, and dry, and the parts put together,
it must be first oiled, and placed in such a position that the hollow may
lie upwards, and then filled with plaster mixed with water; and when
the cast is perfectly set and dry, it must be taken out of the mould,
and repaired when necessary, which finishes the operation.
•

In larger masses, where there would otherwise be a great thickness
of the plaster, a core may be put within the mould, in order to produce
a hollow in the cast, which both saves the expence of the plaster, and
renders the cast lighter.
In the same manner, figures, busts, &c. may be cast of lead, or
any other metal in the moulds of plaster or clay; taking care, however,
that the moulds be perfectly dry; for should there be any moisture,
the sudden heat of the metal would convert it into vapour, which
would produce an explosion by its expansion, and blow the melted me-
tal about.
To take a Cast in Metal from any small Animal, Insect, or Vegetable.-
Prepare a box of four boards, sufficiently large to hold the animal, in
which it must be suspended by a string, and the legs, wings, &c. of the
animal, or the tendrils, leaves, &c. of the vegetable, must be separated,
and adjusted in their right position by a pair of small pincers. A due
quantity of plaster of Paris mixed with talc, must be tempered to the
proper consistence with water, and the sides of the box oiled. Also a
straight piece of stick must be put to the principal part of the body,
and pieces of wire to the extremities of the other parts, in order that
they may form, when drawn out after the matter of the mould is set
and firm, proper channels for pouring in the metal, and vents for the
air, which otherwise, by the rarefaction it would undergo from the heat
of the metals, would blow it out, or burst the mould. In a short time
the plaster will set, and become hard; when the stick and wires may
be drawn out, and the frame or coffin in which the mould was cast
540
MOULDING AND CASTING,
taken away; and the mould must then be put, first, into a moderate
heat, and, afterwards, when it is as dry as can be rendered by that de-
gree, removed into a greater, which may be gradually increased, till
the whole be red hot. The animal or vegetable inclosed in the mould
will then be burnt to a coal; and may be totally calcined to ashes, by
blowing for some time into the charcoal and passages made for pouring
in the metal, and giving vent to the air, which will, at the same time
that it destroys the remainder of the animal or vegetable matter, blow
out the ashes. The mould must then be suffered to cool gently, and
will be perfect; the destruction of the substance included in it, having
produced a corresponding hollow; but it may nevertheless be proper
to shake the mould, and turn it upside down, as also to blow with the
bellows into each of the air vents, in order to free it wholly from any
remainder of the ashes; or where there may be an opportunity of fill-
ing the hollow with quick-silver, it will be found a very effectual me-
thod of clearing the cavity, as all dust, ashes, or small detached bodies,
will necessarily rise to the surface of the quicksilver, and be poured
out with it. The mould being thus prepared, it must be heated
very
hot, when used, if the cast is to be made with copper or brass, but a
less degree will serve for lead or tin. The metal being poured into
the mould, must be gently struck, and then suffered to rest till it be
cold; at which time it must be carefully taken from the cast, but with-
out force; for such parts of the matter as appear to adhere more
strongly, must be softened, by soaking in water till they be entirely
loosened, that none of the more delicate parts of the cast may be broken
off or bent.

When talc cannot be obtained, plaster alone may be used; but it is
apt to be calcined, by the heat used in burning the animal or vegetable
from whence the cast is taken, and to become of too incoherent and
friable a texture. Stourbridge, or any other good clay, washed per-
fectly fine, and mixed with an equal part of fine sand, may be employ-
ed. Pounded pumice-stone, and plaster of Paris, in equal quantities
mixed with washed clay in the same proportion, is said to make excel-
lent moulds.
Method of taking a Cast in Plaster from a Person's Face. The per-
son whose likeness is required in plaster, must lie on his back, and the
hair must be tied back, so that none of it covers the face. Into each
nostril convey a conical piece of stiff paper open at both ends, to allow
of breathing. The face is then lightly oiled over in every part with
salad-oil, to prevent the plaster from sticking to the skin. Procure
some fresh burnt plaster, and mix it with water to a proper consistence
for pouring. Then pour it by spoonfuls quickly all over the face (tak-
ing care the eyes are shut), till it is entirely covered to the thickness of
a quarter of an inch. This substance will grow sensibly hot, and in
a few minutes will be hard. This being taken off, will form a mould,
in which a head of clay may be moulded, and therein the eyes may be
opened, and such other additions and corrections may be made as are
necessary. Then, this second face being anointed with oil, a second
mould of plaster must be made upon it, consisting of two parts joined
lengthwise along the ridge of the nose; and in this a cast in plaster
may be taken, which will be exactly like the original.
To sake Casts from Medals.-In order to take copies of medals, a
MOULDING AND CASTING.
541
mould must first be made; this is generally either of plaster of Paris,
or of melted sulphur.
After having oiled the surface of the medal with a little cotton, or a
camel's-hair pencil dipped in oil of olives, put a hoop of paper round
it, standing up above the surface of the thickness you wish the mould
to be. Then take some plaster of Paris, mix it with water to the con-
sistence of cream, and with a brush rub it over the surface of the medal,
to prevent air-holes from appearing; then immediately afterwards make
it to a sufficient thickness, by pouring on more plaster. Let it stand
about half an hour, and it will in that time grow so hard, that you may
safely take it off; then pare it smooth on the back and round the edges
neatly. It should be dried, if in cold or damp weather, before a brisk
fire. If you cover the face of the mould with fine plaster, a coarser
sort will do for the back: but no more plaster should be mixed up at
one time than can be used, as it will soon get hard, and cannot be soft-
ened without burning over again.
Sulphur must not be poured upon silver medals, as this will tarnish
them.
To prepare this mould for casting sulphur or plaster of Paris in,
take half a pint of boiled linseed-oil, and oil of turpentine one ounce,
and mix them together in a bottle; when wanted, pour the mixture
into a plate or saucer, and dip the surface of the mould into it; take
the mould out again, and when it has sucked in the oil, dip it again.
Repeat this till the oil begins to stagnate upon it; then take a little
cotton wool, hard rolled up, to prevent the oil from sticking to it, and
wipe it carefully off. Lay it in a dry place for a day or two (if longer
the better), and the mould will acquire a very hard surface from the
effect of the oil.


To cast plaster of Paris in this mould, proceed with it in the same
manner as above directed for obtaining the mould itself, first oiling the
mould with olive-oil. If sulphur casts are required, it must be melted
in an iron ladle.
Another method with Isinglass.-Dissolve isinglass in water over the
fire: then with a hair pencil lay the melted isinglass over the medal,
and when you have covered it properly, let it dry. When it is hard,
raise the isinglass up with the point of a knife, and it will fly off like
horn, leaving a sharp impression of the medal.
The isinglass may be made of any colour by mixing the colour with
it, or you may breathe on the concave side, and lay gold leaf on it,
which by shining through will make it appear like a gold medal.
But if you wish to imitate a copper medal, mix a little carmine with
the isinglass, and lay gold leaf on as before.
542
CALICO PRINTING,
CHAP. XV.
CALICO PRINTING.
CALICO PRINTING is the art of communicating different colours to par-
ticular spots or figures on the surface of cotton or linen cloth, while the
rest of the stuff retains its original whiteness.
This ingenious art seems to have originated in India, where it has
been practised for more than two thousand years. No art has arisen
to perfection with greater celerity. A hundred years ago it was scarce-
ly known in Europe; at present the elegance of the patterns, the beauty
and permanency of the colours, and the expedition with which the dif
ferent operations are carried on, are really admirable
Calico printing consists in impregnating those parts of the cloth which
are to receive a colour, with a mordant, and then dyeing it as usual
with some dye stuff or other. The dye stuff attaches itself firmly only
to that part of the cloth which has received the mordant. The whole
surface of the cotton is indeed more or less tinged, but by washing it,
and bleaching it for some days on the grass, with the wrong side up-
permost, all the unmordanted parts resume their original colour, while
those which have received the mordant retain it. Let us suppose that
a piece of white cotton cloth is to receive red stripes; all the parts
where the stripes are to appear are pencilled over with a solution of
acetite of alumnine; after this, the cloth is dyed in the usual manner
with madder. When taken out of the dyeing vessel it is all of a red
colour, but by washing and bleaching, the madder leaves every part of
the cloth white, except the stripes impregnated with the acetite of
alumine, which remain red. In the saine manner may yellow stripes,
or any other wished-for figure, be given to cloth, by substituting quer-
citron bark, weld, &c. for madder.
When different colours are to be given to different parts of the cloth
at the same time, it is done by impregnating it with various mordants.
Thus, if stripes be drawn upon a cotton cloth with acetite of alumine,
and other stripes with acetite of iron, and the cloth be afterwards dyed
in the usual way with madder, and then washed and bleached, it will
be striped red and brown. The same mordants with quercitron bark,
give yellow, and olive, or drab.
The mordants employed in calico printing are acetite of alumine, and
acetite of iron, prepared in the manner described. These mordants
are applied to the cloth, either with a pencil, or by means of blocks,
on which the pattern, according to which the cotton is to be printed, is
cut. As they are applied only to particular parts of the cloth, care must
be taken that none of them spread to the part of the cloth which is to
be left white, and that they do not interfere with one another when
more than one are applied. If these precautions be not attended to, all
the elegance and beauty of the print must be destroyed. It is neces-
sary, therefore, that the mordants should be of such a degree of con-
sistence, that they will not spread beyond those parts of the cloth on
which they are applied. This is done by thickening them with flour
or starch, when they are to be applied by the block; and with gum-
arabic, when they are to be put on by a pencil. The thickening should
CALICO PRINTING.
543
never be greater than is sufficient to prevent the spreading of the mor-
dants; when carried too far, the cotton is apt not to be sufficiently sa-
turated with the mordants; of course the dye takes but imperfectly.
In order that the parts of the cloth impregnated witl, mordants may
be distinguished by their colour, it is usual to tinge the mordants with
some colouring matter or other. The printers cornmonly use the de-
coction of Brazil-wood for this purpose; but Dr. Bancroft has objected
to this method, because he thinks that the Brazil-wood colouring mat-
ter impedes the subsequent process of dyeing. It is certain, that the
colouring matter of the Brazil-wood is displaced during that operation,
by the superior affinity of the dye stuff for the mordants. Were it not
for this superior affinity, the colour would not take at all. Dr. Bancroft
advises to colour the mordant with some of the dye stuff afterwards to
be applied; and he cautions the using of more for that purpose, than is
sufficient to make the mordant distinguishable when applied to the
cloth. The reason of this precaution is obvious. If too much dye be
mixed with the mordant, a great proportion of the mordant will be com-
bined with colouring matter, which must weaken its affinity for the
cloth, and of course prevent it from combining with it, in sufficient
quantity to ensure a permanent dye.
Sometimes these two mordants are mixed together in different pro-
portions; aud sometimes one or both is mixed with an infusion of su-
mach, or of nut-galls. By these contrivances, a great variety of colours
are produced by the same dye stuff.
After the mordants have been applied, the cloth must be completely
dried. It is proper for this purpose to employ artificial heat, which
will contribute something towards the separation of the acetous acid
from its base, and towards its evaporation, by which the mordant will
combine in a greater proportion, and more intimately with the cloth.
When the cloth is sufficiently dried, it is to be washed with warm
water and cow-dung, till all the flour, or gum, employed to thicken the
mordants, and all those parts of the mordants which are uncombined
with the cloth, be removed. The cow-dung serves to entangle these
loose parts of the mordants, and to prevent them from combining with
those parts of the cloth which are to remain white. After this, the
cloth is thoroughly rinsed in clean water. Almost the only dye stuffs
employed by calico printers, are indigo, madder, and quercitron bark,
or weld. This last substance, however, is but little used by the printers
of this country, except for delicate greenish yellows. The quercitron
bark has almost superseded it, because it gives colours equally good,
and is much cheaper and more convenient, not requiring so great a
heat to fix it. Indigo not requiring any mordant, is commonly applied
at once, either with a block or a pencil. It is prepared by boiling to-
gether indigo, potass made caustic by quick-lime, and orpiment; the
solution is afterwards thickened with gum. It must be carefully se-
cluded from the air, otherwise the indigo would soon be regenerated,
which would render the solution useless. Dr. Bancroft has proposed
to substitute coarse brown sugar for orpiments: it is equally efficacious
in decomposing the indigo, and rendering it soluble; while it likewise
serves all the purposes of gum.
When the cloth, after being impregnated with the mordant, is suffici-
ently cleansed, it is dyed in the usual manner. The whole of it is more,
or less tinged with the dye stuff. It is well washed, and then spread

544
CALICO PRINTING.
out for some days on the grass, and bleached with the wrong side up-
permost. This carries the colour off completely from all the parts of
the cotton which have 'not imbibed the mordant, and leaves them of
their original whiteness, while the mordanted spots retain the dye as
strongly as ever.
Let us now give an example or two of the manner in which the
printers give particular colours to calicoes. Some calicoes are only
printed of one colour; others have two, others three or more, even to
the number of eight, ten, or twelve. The smaller the number of co-
lours, the fewer in general are the processes.
1. One of the most common colours on cotton prints is a kind of
nankeen yellow, of various shades down to a deep yellowish brown,
or drab. It is usually in stripes or spots. To produce it, the printers
besmear a block, cut out into the figure of the print, with acetite of
iron, thickened with gum or flour; and then apply it to the cotton,
which, after being dried and cleaned in the usual manner, is plunged
into a potass ley. The quantity of acetite of iron is always proportion-
ed to the depth of the shade.
2. For yellow, the block is besmeared with acetite of alumine. The
cloth, after receiving this mordant, is dyed with quercitron bark, and
then bleached.
3. Red is communicated by the same process; only madder is sub-
stituted for the bark.
4. The fine light blues which appear so often on printed cottons, are
produced by applying to the cloth, a block besmeared with a composi-
tion, consisting partly of wax, which covers all those parts of the cloth
which are to remain white. The cloth is then dyed in a cold indigo
vat; and after it is dry, the wax composition is removed by hot
water.
5. Lilac flea brown, and blackish brown, are given by means of acetite
of iron; the quantity of which is always proportioned to the depth of
the shade. For very deep colours, a little sumach is added. The
cotton is afterward dyed in the usual manner with madder, and then
bleached.
6. Dove colour and drab, by acetite of iron and quercitron bark.
When different colours are to appear in the same print, a greater
number of operations are necessary. Two or more blocks are employed,
upon each of which, that part of the print only is cut, which is to be of
some particular colour. These are besmeared with different mordants,
and applied to the cloth, which is afterwards dyed as usual. Let us
suppose, for instance, that these blocks are applied to cotton, one with
acetite of alumine, another with acetite of iron, a third with a mixture
of those two mordants, and that the cotton is then dyed with querci-
tron bark, and bleached. The parts impregnated with the mordants
would have the following colours:
Acetite of alumine,
iron,
The mixture,
Yellow.
Olive, drab, dove.
Olive green, olive.
If part of the yellow be covered over with the indigo liquor, applied
with a pencil, it will be converted into green. By the same liquid,
blue may be given to such parts of the print as require it.
CALICO PRINTING.
545
If the cotton be dyed with madder, instead of quercitron bark, the
print will exhibit the following colours:
Red
Brown, black.
Purple.
The mixture,
When a greater number of colours are to appear; for instance, when
those communicated by bark, and those by madder, are wanted at the
same time, mordants for part of the pattern are to be applied; the cot-
ton is then to be dyed in the madder bath, and bleached; then the
rest of the mordants, to fill up the pattern, are added, and the cloth is
again dyed with quercitron bark, and bleached. The second dyeing
does not much affect the madder colours; because the mordants, which
render them permanent, are already saturated. The yellow tinge is
easily removed by the subsequent bleaching. Sometimes a new mor-
dant is also applied to some of the madder colours, in consequence of
which, they receive a new permanent colour from the bark. After the
last bleaching, new colours may be added by means of the indigo liquor.
The following table will give an idea of the colours which may be
given to cotton by these complicated processes:
I. Madder Dyc.
Acetite of alumine,
iron,


Acetite of alumine,
iron,
diluted,
Both mixed,
II. Bark Dye.
Acetite of alumine,
iron.
Lilac and acetite of alumine,
-Red and acetite of alumine,
Indigo,
Indigo and yellow,
III. Indigo Dye.
Red
Brown, black,
Lilac.
Purple.
Yellow.
Dove, drab.
Olive.
Orange.
Blue.
Green.
Thus no less than 12 colours may be made to appear together in the
same print, by these different processes.
These instances will serve to give the reader an idea of the nature
of calico printing, and at the same time afford an excellent illustration
of the importance of mordants in dyeing.
If it were possible to procure colours sufficiently permanent, by ap-
plying them at once to the cloth by the block or the pencil, as is the
case with the mordants, the art of calico printing would be brought to
the greatest possible simplicity; but at present, this can only be done
in one case, that of indigo; every other colour requires dyeing. Com-
positions, indeed, may be made, by previously combining the dye stuff
and the mordants. Thus yellow may be applied at once, by employing
a mixture of the infusion of quercitron bark and acetite of alumine;
red, by mixing the same mordant with the decoction of alumine, and so
The colours applied in this way, are, unfortunately, far inferior in
permanency to those produced when the mordant is previously com-
bined with the cloth, and the dye stuff afterwards applied separately
on.

7
4 A
546
BLEACHING.
In this way are applied almost all the fugitive colours of calicoes, which
washing, or even exposure to the air, destroys.
As the application of colours in this way cannot always be avoided
by calico printers, every method of rendering them more permanent is
an object of importance.
CHAP. XVI.
BLEACHING
THE art of bleaching is of great antiquity. The ancients were ac-
quainted with the detersive quality of some kinds of clay, and the effect
produced by the action of the atmosphere, moisture, and light, on the..
stuffs exposed to them. Health and cleanliness rendered it necessary
to devise quicker methods than these; and the property of soaps and
leys of ashes was therefore soon discovered.
In the present age, the arts following science with close steps, have
taken advantage of processes and detersive menstrua, the existence of
which was before unknown; these discoveries have succeeded each
other with such rapidity, that the last eight years have effected a com-
plete revolution in the art of bleaching.
This art is naturally divided into two distinct branches; the bleach-
ing of vegetable, and of animal substances. These being of very diffe
rent natures, require different processes for whitening them. Vege-
tables, as has been already mentioned, consist of oxygen, hydrogen,
and carbon, of which the latter is in the greatest proportion, while ani-
mal substances, besides these, contain also a large quantity of azote,
and also phosphorus and sulphur.
Bleaching of Flax and Hemp.-If ripe flax or hemp be examined,
they will be found to consist of a thin bark, enveloping a green sap; next,
the fibres or filaments that are used in the making of linen; and within
that, the woody part. As it is the fibrous part only that is used in the
making of cloth, it is necessary to separate that from the other sub-
stances.
•
The sap, or succulent part, is composed of extractive principle and
water, and the first process is to separate this substance, which holds
the filaments together. As soon as the flax is pulled, it is steeped in
soft water, until the putrefactive fermentation takes place. This de
gree of fermentation begins with the succulent part, as being more sus-
ceptible of fermentation than the rest. Were the flax to be continued
long in this state, the whole substance of it would be decomposed and
destroyed; it must therefore be taken out of the water when the wood
breaks easily between the hands, while it is yet green, and before the
whole of its sap is separated. Well water, and brackish water, as well
as that which flows over gypseous soil, must be carefully avoided, as
such water accelerates putrefaction, and would injure the texture of the
fibres It is thus that a little salt accelerates animal putrefaction,
while a great deal tends to prevent it; and the portion of saline sub-
L
.
!
BLEACHING.
547
stances held in solution in the water hastens the corruption of the fila-
ments which it blackens and spoils.
This operation of watering is long and noxious, as it is found to de-
stroy the fish in any stream that may be used, and the smell of the pu-
trifying plants is extremely offensive. It is one of the improvements
of the manufacture by modern chemistry to shorten this process, and to
perform it with less risk of injuring the flax. If the steam of a solu-
tion of caustic alkali in water be introduced into a chamber of from 20
to 30 feet square, in which the flax is suspended, it will produce the
same effect as watering, in less time, and with less expence; and also
with less danger to the flax, which is frequently injured by too long
steeping.
▸
Nothing remains after the watering is completed, but the woody
part (which is a hollow tube), covered over very compactly with the
flax. To separate these, it must be kiln-dried to render it brittle or
frangible, but care must be taken not to apply too much heat.
It is next to be beat or broke, either by manual labour with mal-
lets on a sort of wooden anvils, as in the houses of correction, or by
mills for the purpose. The flax is by this means divided into small
fibres, and most of the wood separated or reduced to small fragments,
which are cleared away by scutching or threshing.
Hackling is the last process, which is nothing more than drawing.
or combing the flax in small parcels at a time, through a pile or group
of polished and sharp iron spikes, placed firmly in wood. The spikes
are placed pretty close together; the first hackle is coarse, the second
finer, and the third finer again. The process of hackling answers se-
veral purposes; first it divides the fibres of the flax from each toge-
ther; secondly it detaches the minute fragments of wood which es-
caped the process of scutching; and lastly, it separates the short
coarse flax commonly called the tow.
1

The flax is then ready to be spun into thread or yarn, which is af-
terwards manufactured into cloth by the weaver.
It is now that the process of bleaching begins. The linen as it
comes from the loom is charged with the weaver's dressing, which is
a paste of flour and water brushed into the yarn of the work, to ren-
der the stretching of it more easy. To discharge this paste, the linen
must be steeped in water for forty-eight hours, till the extraneous sub-
stance is decomposed by fermentation, which does not extend to the
linen itself. Some bleachers boil the linen in water; but improperly,
as paste is not soluble in boiling water.
When the linen is well washed and rinsed after the last process, it is
of a greyish white colour, although the fibres of which it is composed
are naturally very white.
To separate the matter that discolours the linen is the business of
bleaching. This grey substance is of a resinous nature, insoluble in
water, and from its intimate union or dissemination through the very
fibres of the flax, is difficult of separation, even by those substances
that have a solvent power over it.
Alkaline leys, or solutions of alkali rendered caustic, have the pro-
perty of dissolving resins: hence they have been employed as menstrua
for this purpose.
But alone they are not sufficient for completing the
process of bleaching. What appears to be a single ultimate fibre of
flax in grey linen, is composed of a bundle of minute filaments, closely

548
BLEACHING.
cemented or agglutinated together by the resinous matter: therefore
the potass first only acts upon the resin of the external coating of fila-
ments, by which means they are loosened or separated, and exposed
to the further action of the air. The second boiling of potass opens
a second layer, and thus successively layer after layer, until the whole
is divided or opened to the centre. Were the alkaline solution suf-
ficiently strong to force its way at once to the centre, it would act
upon the filaments themselves, and destroy the texture of the cloth.
Each filament, after the alkaline process, retains an impregnation of
colouring matter, so intimately united as to resist the further action
of it. This can only be removed by the slow and gradual influence of
the atmosphere, according to the old method of bleaching, or by the
modern improvement of using the oxygenated muriatic acid.
To explain the principle upon which this latter part of the process
is effected, we must consider that the resin, which forms the colouring
matter of unbleached linen, is composed chiefly of carbon and hydro-
gen; this is partly dissolved by the alkaline ley, and what remains be-
comes united to the oxygen of the atmosphere; flying off in the state
of carbonic acid gas, or remaining as water.


The great objection to the old manner of bleaching is its tediousness,
two or three months being requisite to give the cloth the necessary
whiteness. The simplicity of it and the little apparatus it requires,
recommend it, however, on some occasions, and accordingly it is em-
ployed by those country people who make their own cloth, particularly
in Scotland.
Method of bleaching by the action of the atmospheric air.-After steep-
ing the linen as above-mentioned, to remove the weaver's dressing,
the pieces are dried, and then submitted to the operation of bucking.
For this purpose a ley is prepared by dissolving a quantity of potass in
soft water, to which is added some soap. It is most economical to
render it caustic for the purpose of bleaching. This is done by adding
quicklime to the mild potass, the former having a stronger affinity for
the carbonic acid than the latter. But care must be taken not to use
the alkali too strong. This liquor is heated to about 100 degrees, and
poured upon the pieces of linen. After the cloth is well down in the
ley, it is drawn off, heated a little higher, and again poured upon the
cloth. This operation is repeated at intervals, allowing the ley to re-
main longer each succeeding time, and moderately increasing the heat,
for five or six hours. Then the cloth is left steeping for three or four
hours, when it is taken out, well rinsed, and carried to the field. Here
it is spread upon the grass, and secured by pins; water is sprinkled
on it, so as not to allow it to become dry for some hours. After it has
lain about half a day, the watering is less frequent, and at night it is
left to the full action of the air and dews. On the succeeding days it
is watered three or four times a day, if the weather be dry, and then
it remains on the field till the air seems to have less effect in whitening.
It is then brought back to the coppers and bucked again, with a ley
somewhat stronger than the last, rinsed, and again spread out in the
field. It is thus alternately bucked and watered ten or fifteen times,
according to the weather, making the bucking stronger and stronger,
till about the middle, and then weaker and weaker till towards the last.
It must now undergo the process of souring or steeping in some acid
liquor. The acid which has been usually employed for the process of
BLEACHING.
549
souring is formed by the fermentation of bran and water; or sometimes
sour whey has been used. But sulphuric acid, very much diluted'
has been found more convenient, and not more injurious. The cloths
are kept in the souring for five or six days, if it be formed of milk or
bran, or a less time when the sulphuric acid is used. They are then
rubbed with soap, more particularly the selvages, as these resist most
the action of the air. The cloth is now again bucked, rinsed, watered,
and exposed to the air, and these processes are repeated successively, till
the linen has acquired the necessary whiteness.
"Bleaching by the Oxygenated Muriatic Acid.-The oxygenated muriatic
acid gas, and its property of destroying colours, have been already de-
scribed under chemistry. This combined with water, forms the oxy-
genated muriatic acid, which is therefore only a combination of muriatic
acid and oxygen. All vegetable colours are attacked by this acid, and
whitened with more or less celerity; the colouring matter undergoes a
real slow combustion, terminating by the formation of carbonic acid gas,
which escapes into the atmosphere. In whatever manner the oxygenat-
ed muriatic acid is procured, it is evident that the oxygen adheres to it
only weakly, and it is upon this property that the possibility depends
of producing speedily in manufactories, that action which the atmo-
sphere produces but slowly, and of bleaching in a time proportionably
short.

The oxygenated muriatic acid is employed in four different ways for
the purposes of bleaching; first, in the state of gas alone; secondly, in
the state of gas combined with water, or what is called the acid; thirdly,
potass is mixed with the acid to condense the gaseous vapour and de-
stroy its suffocating odour; fourthly, oxygenated muriates, dissolved in
water, are employed.
The first method, viz. employing the gas, was never used but for the
purpose of experiment; as the vapour is of so noxious a quality, that
to breathe it is fatal, and several people fell a sacrifice to their attempts
in employing it.
When condensed in water, or in the state of oxygenated muriatic
acid, it was found inconvenient in the large way, on account of the ex-
pence and difficulty in constructing the necessary apparatus, and the
suffocating vapour which escaped.
For the discovery of the oxygenated muriatic acid, its effects on
colouring matter, and its inestimable advantages, the arts are indebted
to the justly celebrated Scheele. M. Berthollet lost no time in apply-
ing this curious and highly interesting substance to the most important
practical uses. His experiments of bleaching by oxygenated muriatic
acid, proved completely successful, and he did not delay to communi-
cate his valuable labours to the public. The new method of bleaching
was quickly and successfully introduced into the manufactories of
Manchester, Glasgow, Rouen, Valenciennes, and Courtrary; and it has
since been generally adopted in Great Britain, Ireland, France, and
Germany. The advantages that result from this method, which acce-
lerates the process of whitening cottons, linens, paper, &c. to a really
surprising degree, in every season of the year, can be justly appreciated
by commercial people only, who experience its beneficial effects in
many ways, but particularly in the quick circulation of their capitals.
The methods of procuring this acid have been already mention-
ed. To save the expence of first preparing the muriatic acid, the

-
550
BLEACHING.
•
72
usual practice is to mix with the oxyde of managanese, muriate of soda
or common salt, and sulphuric acid diluted with water. The sulphuric
acid acts upon the salt, and disengages from it the muriatic acid, which
is oxygenated by the oxyde of manganese. The proportions observed.
when cotton is to be bleached, are,
Manganese,
Common. salt,
Sulphuric acid,
Water,
Manganese,
Salt,
Sulphuric acid,
Water,
For linen-cloth the proportions are as follow:
60 parts
60
50
50
30 parts
80
60
120
1
The better these substances are combined together, the more easily
will the acid gas be disengaged by the action of the sulphuric acid.
To ascertain the strength of the acid for bleaching, a solution of in-
digo in the sulphuric acid is employed. The colour of this is destroyed
by the oxygenated muriatic acid, and according to the quantity of it
that can be discoloured by a given quantity of the liquor, its strength is
known.
Cloth is prepared for immersion in oxygenated water, by soaking in
a ley of weak potass, and rinsing it afterwards in a large quantity of
water, in order to free it completely from the weaver's dressing, and
the saliva of the spinners.

•
In this country, machinery is employed for rinsing and beating; the
apparatus must be arranged according to the objects to be bleached; the
skeins of thread must be suspended in the tub destined for them, and、
the cloth must be rolled upon reels in the apparatus. When every
thing is thus disposed, the tubs are filled with oxygenated muriatic acid,
by introducing a funnel, which descends to the bottom of the tub, in
order to prevent the dispersion of the gas. The cloth is wound, or the
frame work on which the skeins are suspended, is turned several times,
until it is judged, by taking out a small quantity of the liquor from
time to time, and trying it by the test of the solution of indigo, that it
is sufficiently exhausted. The weakened liquor is then drawn off, and
may be again employed for a new saturation.
Great difficulties for a time impeded the progress of this method of
bleaching, arising chiefly from prejudice, and the ignorance of bleachers
in chemical processes. These obstacles were, however, soon removed
by Mr. Watt of Glasgow, and by Mr. Henry and Mr. Cooper at Man-
chester. Another difficulty presented itself, which had nearly proved
fatal to the success of the operation. This was the want of a proper
apparatus, not for making the acid, and combining it with water, for
this had been supplied in a very ingenious manner by Mr. Watt and
M. Berthollet; but for the purpose of immersing and bleaching goods
in the liquor. The volatility of this acid, and its suffocating vapours,
prevented its application in the way commonly used in dye-houses.
Large cisterns were therefore constructed, in which pieces of stuff were
stratified; and the liquor being poured on them, the cisterns were
·
BLEACHING.
551
closed with lids. But this method was soon found to be defective, as
the liquor could not be equally diffused; the pieces were therefore on-
ly partially bleached, being white in some parts, and more or less co-
loured in others.
1
Mr. Rupp, of Manchester, invented an apparatus for bleaching cloth,
exceedingly simple in its construction, of small expence, and which
contains the liquor in such a manner as to prevent the escape of the
oxygenated muriatic acid gas. A consideration of no less importance
in the arrangement of this apparatus, is the impossibility of the vapour
injuring the health of the workmen.
It was found, however, that the use of the oxygenated muriatic acid
alone weakened the cloth, and various methods of preventing its noxi-
ous effects upon the health of the workmen were tried without success,
till it was discovered that an addition of alkali to the liquor deprived
it of its suffocating effects, without destroying its bleaching powers.
The process began then to be carried on in open vessels, and has been
continued in this manner to the present period. The bleacher is now
able to work his pieces in the liquor, and to expose every part of them
to its action, without inconvenience.
•
"
t
Potass was at first used for this purpose; and although this advant-
age was unquestionably great, it was diminished by the heavy expence
of the alkali, which was entirely lost. Also, the potass which was
added to the liquor, though it did not destroy its power of bleaching,
diminished it, because a solution of the oxygenated muriate of potass,
which differs from this bleaching liquor in nothing but in the proportion
of alkali, will not bleach at all. This is a well-known fact, from which
we might infer, that the oxygenated muriatic acid will lose its power of
destroying the colouring matter of vegetable substances, in proportion
as it becomes neutralized by potass.
1
It was afterwards discovered that the oxymuriatic acid might be
combined with the alkaline earths, as lime and barytes, and also with
magnesia, by this means forming oxymuriates, which were soluble in
water and had the property of bleaching. The oxymuriate of lime is
at present used in almost all the bleaching grounds. For the manner
of preparing it, Mr. Tennant took out a patent; but this has been lately
contested, and it is now prepared and used by all the bleachers through
the country.
If the oxygenated muriatic acid be passed through lime water, it
will combine with the lime, and form oxymuriate of lime; but as the
water can only retain a small portion of lime, this was not found of
much use.
To cause a larger quantity of lime to combine with the
oxymuriatic acid gas, the lime is mechanically suspended in the water,
into which the gas is made to pass, and agitated, so as to present fresh
matter to the gas. By this means, the oxymuriate of lime is formed in
a very convenient manner; it is dissolved in water, and used as a
bleaching liquor.
}
This liquor is found to be preferable to the oxygenated muriatic
acid and potass. At the great bleach-fields in Ireland, four leys of
potass are applied alternately with four weeks exposure on the grass,
two immersions in the oxygenated muriate of lime, a ley of potass be-
tween the two, and the exposure of a week on the grass, between each
ley and the immersions. During summer, two leys and fifteen days
exposure are sufficient to prepare cloth for the action of the oxygenated
+
}

552
BLEACHING.
1
muriate; then three alternate leys, with immersions in the liquor, will
be sufficient for complete bleaching: nothing then will be necessary,
but to wind the cloth through the sulphuric acid.
The oxygenated muriatic acid gas may also be combined with lime
in a dry state, or the water may be evaporated, when it is employed
for the formation of oxymuriates, which may then be very conveniently
transported to any distance without injury to its detersive power; an
advantage not possessed by the acid alone, which cannot be transport-
ed without the loss of almost half of its strength.

The sulphuret of lime or the combination of sulphur and lime, which
are both cheap articles, has been proposed by Mr. Higgins to answer
the purposes of potass in bleaching
of potass in bleaching; and it is certainly useful in some
cases, though in others it will not supersede the use of alkali.
The sulphuret of lime is prepared in the following manner, for the
purpose of bleaching:-Sulphur or brimstone, in fine powder, four
pounds; lime, well slaked and sifted, twenty pounds; water, sixteen
gallons; these are to be well mixed, and boiled for about half an hour
in an iron vessel, stirring them briskly from time to time. Soon after
the agitation of boiling is over, the solution of the sulphuret of lime
clears, and may be drawn off free from the insoluble matter, which is
considerable, and which rests upon the bottom of the boiler. The li-
quor, in this state, is pretty nearly of the colour of small-beer, but not
quite so transparent.
Sixteen gallons of fresh water are afterwards to be poured upon the
insoluble dregs in the boiler, in order to separate the whole of the sul-
phuret from them. When this clears (being previously well agitated),
it is also to be drawn off, and mixed with the first liquor; to these again
thirty-three gallons more of water may be added, which will reduce
the liquor to a proper standard for steeping the cloth. Here we have
(an allowance being made for evaporation, and for the quantity retain-
ed in the dregs) sixty gallons of liquor from four pounds of brimstone.
Although sulphur, by itself, is not in any sensible degree soluble in
water, and lime but sparingly so, water dissolving only about one seven-
hundredth part of its weight of lime; yet the sulphuret of lime is highly
soluble.

When linen is freed from the weaver's dressing, in the manner al-
ready described, it is to be steeped in the solution of sulphuret of lime
(prepared as above) for about twelve or eighteen hours, then taken out
and very well washed. When dry, it is to be steeped in the oxymuriate
of lime for twelve or fourteen hours, and then washed and dried. This
process is to be repeated six times, that is, six alternate immersions in
each liqour which has been found to whiten the linen.
The rationale of these processes is the following: The oxygenated
liquor supplies to the cloth the place of the atmospheric air, and this in
greater abundance, and in a state which renders its action on the cloth
more expeditious and more complete. By the union of the oxygen
with the carbon of the colouring matter of the cloth, carbonic acid is
formed, and flies off.
Steam has been lately employed in bleaching with great success in
France. The process was brought from the Levant. Chaptal first
made it known to the public.
In the old processes, a long succession of leys, and exposure on the
grass, was necessary to penetrate the fibres of the linen from stratum
BLEACHING
559
to stratum. The texture was sufficiently close to resist the action of
the heat of a common ley, and a considerable time was required to ab-
sorb the oxygen presented by the delicate stratum of atmospheric air.
In the process of bleaching by steam, these difficulties are removed.
The high temperature of the steam, in the interior part of the appara-
tus, swells up the fibres of the thread or cloth; the pure alkali, which
rises with the elastic fluid, seizes with avidity on the colouring matter,
and burns it; seldom does the tissue of the flax or hemp resist the
penetrating effect of this vapour bath. The whole matter, therefore, by
which they are coloured, is attacked and decomposed by this single
operation; and even if we suppose that a part has been able to resist,
nothing is necessary but to repeat the operation, after a previous im-
mersion and exposure on the grass, to ensure its complete effect. The
alkali even appears to have a much livelier and more caustic action,
when it is combined with caloric, than in ordinary leys, where the
temperature never rises above 162° of Fahrenheit. By making the
cloth or thread pass through one ley of oxygenated muriatic acid, or
oxygenated muriate of lime, an union is effected between the solution
and the carbon, arising from the burning of the extracto-mucous matter
of the flax; carbonic acid is formed; the water even in which this new
compound is diluted, concurs to promote this combination; if the cloth
be then exposed on the grass, the carbonic acid is dissipated, and the
cloth is bleached.
;
It was believed that the steam of a pure alkaline ley would not be
caustic, and would not produce the same effects as the saline solution
and the reason assigned for this opinion was, the concentration of all
the salts by the evaporation of the aqueous fluid; but what takes place
in the open air, where the atmosphere every moment absorbs the mois-
ture which is evaporated, cannot be applied to a close apparatus, where
the temperature is elevated in an extreme degree; besides, the caloric
always carries with it a little alkali, even in low temperatures, as is
observed when water is poured over potass; the steam which issues
from it changes blue vegetable colours to green.
The action of steam alone does not bleach, and the concurrence of
oxygen is necessary to aid the composition of the carbonic acid; this
acid requires for its formation, 28 parts of carbon, saturated with 72 of
oxygen; but all the oxygen contained in the apparatus would not be
sufficient to saturate the considerable quantity of colouring matter burnt
by the alkaline combustion, and converted into carbon; this deficit
must be supplied by immersion in any oxygenated liquor whatever, and
the dispersion of the elastic fluid thus formed must be then facilitated
by exposure on the grass.
To bleach cloth in this manner, it must be immersed in a slight
alkaline caustic liquor, and placed in a chamber constructed over a
boiler, into which is put the alkaline ley which is to be raised into
steam. After the fire has been lighted, and the cloth has remained ex-
posed to the action of the steam for a sufficient length of time, it is
taken out, and immersed in the oxygenated muriate of lime, and after-
wards exposed for two or three days on the grass. This operation,
which is very expeditious, will be sufficient for cotton; but if linen
cloth should still retain a yellow tint, a second alkaline caustic vapour
bath, and two or three days on the grass, will be sufficient to give
them the necessary degree of whiteness.

4 B
554
BLEACHING.
!
For the use of private families, when the linen is dirtied by perspi-
ration or grease, it will be of great service towards rendering it white,
to steep it for some time in a clear liquor, made by mixing one quart
of quicklime in ten gallons of water, letting the mixture stand twenty-
four hours, and then using the clean water drawn from the lime. After
the linen has been steeped in this liquor, it should be washed as usual,
but will require much less soap to be used.
Bleaching of Cotton.-Cotton is a filamentous substance, or a kind of
down which envelopes the seeds of the cotton plant. This plant or
shrub comes from the east, and grows only in warm climates.
This substance, after being separated from the seeds, is always
charged with a coarse colouring matter, which soils it, and renders it
opaque. The presence of this unctuous matter is proved by the slow-
ness with which cotton absorbs water before it is scoured, and by the
force with which it absorbs it after the operation; by which means,
from being opaque, it is rendered clear and transparent.
Cotton varies a great deal in its qualities, according to the different
kinds, the climate where produced, and the culture employed. Its
colour is sometimes yellow, and sometimes white, but, in general, it is
of a dirty yellow.
To bleach it, does not require the same preparations as hemp and
flax. The first operation consists in scouring it in a slight alkaline so-
lution, or, what is better, by exposure to steam. It is afterwards put
into a basket, and rinsed in running water. The immersing of cotton
in an alkaline ley, however it be rinsed, always leaves with it an earthy
deposit. It is well known that cotton bears the action of acids better
than hemp or flax; that time is even necessary before the action of
them can be prejudicial to it, and by taking advantage of this valuable
property in regard to bleaching, means have been found to free it from
the earthy deposit, by pressing down the cotton in a very weak solution
of sulphuric acid, and afterwards removing the acid by washing, lest
too long remaining in it should destroy the cotton.
Bleaching of Wool.-The substances produced by the animal king-
dom differ essentially in their constituent principles from vegetables.
Vegetables serve as the nourishment to the animals and insects, the
spoils of which we employ. Animalized by their organs, they acquire
other properties. We shall here confine ourselves to the examination
of wool and silk, as the animal substances most generally employed for
clothing.


Wool is a kind of hair with which the bodies of several animals are
covered. It is composed of filaments or tubes, filled with an oily or
medullary substance. The sides of these tubes are perforated with a
multitude of small pores, which communicate with a longitudinal tube.
By chemical analysis, wool gives a great deal of oil, and carbonate of
ammonia; caustic alkaline leys dissolve it entirely. It experiences no
change in boiling water; it alters very little when preserved in a place
well aired; acids have very little action on it; when exposed to a strong
heat, it enters into fusion.
An examination of these chemical facts is necessary for understand-
ing the principles which ought to direct the artist in the bleaching of
this substance. The little action which acids have upon wool, and its
unalterableness in water, even when aided by heat, render it necessary
to have recourse to alkaline or saponaceous leys; but its solubility in
BLEACHING.
555
1
these salts shews, that great prudence and caution must be employed.
In regard to acids, none have been hitherto used but the sulphureous
acid, obtained in the gaseous state by combustion.
In the preliminary operations to which wool is subjected, it is custo-
mary to leave a little of its grease, to secure it from insects. Wool is
often freed from the grease by the farmers, when they wish to sell it at
a high price, but in the subsequent manipulations, it is greased or oil-
ed before it is combed, spun, &c. and as this fat matter attracts dust, it
dirties and thickens the stuffs. The first kind of bleaching to which
wool is subjected, is to free it from these impurities. This operation is
called scouring. In manufactories, it is generally performed by means
of an ammoniacal ley, formed of five measures of river water, and one
of stale urine; the wool is immersed for about twenty minutes in a bath
of this mixture, heated to fifty-six degrees; it is then taken out, suf-
fered to drain, and then rinsed in running water: this manipulation
softens the wool, and gives it the first degree of whiteness; it is re-
peated a second, and even a third time, after which the wool is fit to be
employed. In some places, scouring is performed with water slightly
impregnated with soap; and indeed, for valuable articles, this process
is preferable, but it is too expensive for articles of less value.
Fulling the cloth adds still to the whiteness; and if an increased de-
gree be necessary, it may be procured by the action of the sulphureous
acid; that is to say, of the fumes of sulphur in a state of combustion,
or the vapour of that acid condensed and combined with water.
Sulphuring is generally performed in an arched or very close cham-
ber, constructed in such a manner, that the articles to be exposed to
the action of the sulphur can be suspended on poles. The chamber
being filled, a certain quantity of sulphur is put in a state of combustion
in flat dishes, having a large surface with very little depth; the entrance
is speedily shut, and all the interstices around the door are carefully
stopped to prevent the access of the atmospheric air. The acid gene-
rated by the combustion of the sulphur, penetrates the stuffs, attacks
the colouring matter, destroys it, and effects the bleaching. The stuffs
are left in the stoves some time after the deflagration has ceased. This
time varies from six to twenty-four hours. They are then taken out,
and made to pass through a slight washing with soap, to remove the
roughness they have acquired by the action of the acid, and to give
them the necessary softness.
4

This process is imperfect. At first, the acid of the sulphur acts only
on the surfaces, and does not penetrate. This aerial immersion is not
sufficient; the gas cannot introduce itself to a sufficient depth into the
stuffs, and the superficies only is whitened.
A superior method has been lately invented, which is by making
use of the sulphureous acid, which has been already described.
The sulphureous acid, or that acid generated by the imperfect com-
bustion of sulphur, differs from the sulphuric acid (oil of vitriol), by its
containing less of the acidifying principle, and by being, as we may
say, the mean term between sulphur and the sulphuric acid.
Sulphureous acid gas unites very easily with water, and in this com
bination it may be employed for bleaching wool and silk. The sul-
phureous acid in this state of liquidity, may be prepared by making it
traverse water in an apparatus nearly similar to that used for preparing
oxygenated muriatic acid. The most economical method of obtaining
?
556
3
BLEACHING.
it, is to decompose sulphuric acid by the mixture of any combustible
matter capable of taking from it a part of its oxygen. In exact experi-
ments of the laboratory, when the chemist is desirous of having great
purity, it is obtained by means of metallic substances, and particularly
by mercury; but for the purpose of which we are treating, where
great economy is required, we would recommend the most common sub-
stances. We shall therefore give the following process.

Take chopped straw, or saw-dust, and introduce it into a mattress;
pour over it sulphuric acid, applying at the same time heat, and there
will be disengaged sulphureous acid gas (vapour of sulphur), which
may be combined with water in the apparatus.
The pieces are rolled upon the reels, and are drawn through the sul-
phureous acid, by turning them, until it is observed that the whiteness
is sufficiently bright. They are then taken out, and are left to drain
on a bench covered with cloth, lest they should be stained in conse-
quence of the decomposition of the wood by the sulphureous acid;
they are next washed in river water, and Spanish white is employed, if
it should be judged necessary. This operation is performed by passing
the pieces through a tub of clear water, in which about eight pounds
Spanish white have been dissolved. To obtain a fine whiteness, the
stuffs, in general, are twice sulphured. According to this process, one
immersion and reeling two or three hours, is sufficient. Azuring or
blueing is performed by throwing into the Spanish white liquor, a solu-
tion of one part of Prussian blue to 400 parts of water, shaking the
cloth in the liquid, and reeling it rapidly.
The operation is terminated by a slight washing with soap, to give
softness and pliability to the stuffs. The final operations of drying,
stretching, pressing, &c. are foreign to our present subject.

Bleaching of Silk.-Silk is a semi-transparent matter, spun by a ca-
terpillar, and formed of a substance contained in its body, which be-
comes hard in the air. This insect inhabits warm climates, being indi-
genous in Asia: it was naturalized in Europe about the time of the
downfal of the Roman empire,
The filaments prepared by the silk-worm are rolled up in a cod or
ball. In this state, in which we find it, it is covered with a yellow var-
nish which destroys its brilliancy and renders it rough. Silk by che-
mical analysis gives carbonate of ammonia and oil; water at a boiling
heat produces no effect upon it; alcohol makes it experience no
change; but concentrated alkaline leys attack and dissolve it.
To give splendour to silk, it must be freed from its varnish. This
covering is soluble in alkaline leys. Silk is generally scoured by means
of soap, by which it loses one-fourth of its weight. The matter disen-
gaged from it is very fœtid, and if the silk be not rinsed in plenty of
water, putrid fermentation will take place. Even when the best soap
is used, it is generally suspected that it injures the whiteness of the
silk. The splendour of the Chinese silks is brighter than that of the
European; and the Chinese employ no soap in their operations. A
slightly alkaline ley will dissolve the varnish of the silk without using
soap, and this has also been effected by the action of boiling water at a
very high temperature.
The method which has been used successfully
Take a very weak solution of caustic soda,
of the apparatus for bleaching with steam.
in France, is as follows:
and fill with it the boiler
Charge the frames with
«

BLEACHING.
557
skeins of raw silk, and place them in the apparatus until it is full; then
close the door and make the solution boil. Having continued the ebul-
lition for twelve hours, slacken the fire, and open the door of the ap-
paratus. The heat of the steam, which is always above 250°, will have
been sufficient to free the silk from the gum, and to scour it. Wash
the skeins in warm water, and, having wrung them, place them again
on the frames in the apparatus, to undergo a second boiling. Then
wash them several times in water, and immerse them in water some-
what soapy, to give them a little softness.
Notwithstanding the whiteness which silk acquires by these different
operations, it must be carried to a higher degree of splendour by ex-
posing it to the action of sulphureous acid gas, in a close chamber, or
by immersing it in sulphureous acid, as before recommended for wool.
Bleaching Prints, and Printed Books.-An application has been made
of the new mode of bleaching, to the whitening of books and prints
that have been soiled by smoke and time.
Simple immersion in oxygenated muriatic acid, letting the article
remain in it a longer or shorter space of time, according to the strength
of the liquid, will be sufficient to whiten an engraving. If it be re-
quired to whiten the paper of a bound book, as it is necessary that all
the leaves should be moistened by the acid, care must be taken to open
the book well, and to make the boards rest on the edge of the vessel,
in such a manner that the paper alone be dipped in the liquid: the
leaves must be separated from each other, in order that they may be
equally moistened on both sides.
The liquor assumes a yellow tint, and the paper becomes white in the
same proportion; at the end of two or three hours, the book may be
taken from the acid liquor, and plunged into pure water, with the
same care and precaution as recommended in regard to the acid liquor,
that the water may exactly touch the two surfaces of each leaf. The
water must be renewed every hour, to extract the acid remaining in
the paper, and to dissipate the disagreeable smell.
By following this process, there is some danger that the pages will
not be all equally whitened, either because the leaves have not been
sufficiently separated, or because the liquid has had more action on the
front margins than on those near the binding. On this account, the
best way is to destroy the binding entirely, that each leaf may receive
an equal and perfect immersion; and this is the second process recom-
mended by M. Chaptal.
sr
They begin," says he, "by unsewing the book, and separating
it into leaves, which they place in cases formed in a leaden tub, with
very thin slips of wood, or glass, so that the leaves, when laid flat,
are separated from each other by intervals scarcely sensible. The acid
is then poured in, making it fall on the sides of the tub, in order that
the leaves may not be deranged by its motion. When the workman
judges, by the whiteness of the paper, that it has been sufficiently
acted upon by the acid, it is drawn off by a cock at the bottom of the
tub, and its place is supplied by clear fresh water, which weakens and
carries off the remains of the acid, as well as the strong smell. The
leaves are then to be dried, and after being pressed, may be again
bound up.
"The leaves may be placed also vertically in the tub; and this posi◄
tion seems to possess some advantage, as they will be less liable to be
558
BLEACHING.
V
torn. With this view I constructed a wooden frame, which I adjusted
to the proper height, according to the size of the leaves which I wished
to whiten. This frame supported very thin slips of wood, leaving
only the space of half a line between them. I placed two leaves in
each of these intervals, and kept them fixed in their place by two small
wooden wedges, which I pushed in between the slips. When the pa-
per was whitened, I lifted up the frame with leaves, and plunged them
in cold water, to remove the remains of the acid as well as the smell:
this process I prefer to the other.
"By this operation books are not only cleaned, but the paper ac-
quires a degree of whiteness superior to what it possessed when first
made. The use of this acid is attended also with the valuable advan-
tage of destroying ink spots. This liquor has no action upon spots of
oil or animal greese; but it has been long known that a weak solu-
tion of potass will effectually remove stains of that kind.
•
"When I had to repair prints so torn that they exhibited only scraps
pasted upon other paper, I was afraid of losing these fragments in the
liquid, because the paste became dissolved. In such cases I inclosed
the prints in a cylindric glass vessel, which I inverted on the water
in which I had put the mixture proper for extricating the oxygenated
muriatic acid gas. This vapour, by filling the whole inside of the jar,
acted upon the print, extracted the grease as well as ink spots, and the
fragments remained pasted to the paper."
Easy Method of preparing the Oxygenated Muriatic Acid.—To oxy-
genate the muriatic acid, nothing is necessary but to dilute it, and mix
it in a very strong glass vessel with manganese, in such a manner that
the mixture may not occupy the whole contents of the glass. Air bub-
bles are formed on the surface of the liquor; the empty space becomes
filled with a greenish vapour; and at the end of some hours the acid
may be farther diluted with water, and then used. It has an acid
taste, because the whole is not saturated with oxygen; but it possesses
all the virtues of the oxygenated muriatic acid. This process may be
followed when there is not time to set up an apparatus for distilling,
in order to procure the oxygenated acid.
Method of bleaching Straw.-Dip the straw in a solution of oxygen-
ated muriatic acid, saturated with potass. (Oxygenated muriate of
lime is much cheaper.) The straw is thus rendered very white, and
its flexibility is increased.
Efficacy of Horse Chesnuts in bleaching Linen and clearing Woollen
Stuff's, and a Ley for preparing Hemp.-The manner of making this ley
is to peel the chesnuts, and rasp them as fine as possible into soft water.
This is done ten or twelve hours before the mixture is to be used;
and in the meanwhile, it is stirred from time to time, the better to dis-
solve these raspings and impregnate the water. The last stirring is
given about a quarter of an hour before the water is drawn off from
the thickest part of the raspings, which subside; and this is done
cither by inclining the vessel and pouring off the ley gently, or by
Ladling it out by hand, while the water is yet white and froths like
soap-suds. In order to use this ley, it is made rather hotter than the
hand can well bear, and the hemp is then steeped and washed in it
as in soap-suds. Linen may also be washed in this ley, and even when
very dirty, much less soap will be required than is commonly used, it
being sufficient to rub the dirtiest parts only with soap.-The raspinga

;
BLEACHING.
559
}
of the chesnuts, which sink to the bottom of the ley, are good for
fowls and pigs. Hemp, as above prepared, may be dyed like silk,
wool, or cotton, and may be made into stuff and garments of all
kinds; a great advantage attending the use of this material is, that it
will not be destroyed by those insects which devour woollen cloth.
To bleach Bees-Wax.-Melt your wax, and while hot throw it into
cold water to reduce it into little bits, or spread it out into very thin
leaves, and lay it out to the air, night and day, on linen cloths, then
melt it over again, and expose it as before: repeat this till the sun
and dew have bleached it; then, for the last time, melt it in a kettle,
and cast it with a ladle on a table covered over with little round hol-
lows, in the form of the cakes sold by the apothecaries; but first
wet your moulds with cold water, that the wax be the easier got out;
lastly, lay them out in the air for two days and two nights, to make it
more transparent and drier.
CHAP. XVII.
INK-MAKING.
INKS are fluid compounds, intended to form characters, or some
other kinds of figures, on proper grounds of paper, parchment, or such
other substance as may be fit to receive them.
There are two principal kinds of inks-writing and printing ink.
Writing Ink.-When to an infusion of nut-galls some solution of
sulphate of iron (green copperas) is added, a very dark blue precipi-
tate takes place. This precipitate is the gallic acid of the galls united
to the iron of the green vitriol, forming gallat of iron, which is the
basis of writing ink. If galls and sulphate of iron only were used, the
precipitate would fall down, leaving the water colourless; and, in order
to keep it suspended in the water, forming a permanently black, or
rather very dark blue fluid, gum-arabic is added, which, by its viscid
nature, prevents the precipitate from falling down.

Various receipts have been given for the composition of writing
ink, but very few have been founded upon a knowledge of it real na-
ture. Though so important an article, it is but lately that it has been
studied with any attention; and even still the principles and theory of
its formation do not appear to be so thoroughly understood as might
be wished. The receipt given by M. Ribancourt is as follows: Take
eight ounces of Aleppo galls, in coarse powder; four ounces of log-
wood, in thin chips; four ounces of sulphate of iron (green copperas);
three ounces of gum-arabic, in powder; one ounce of sulphate of cop-
per (blue vitriol); and one ounce of sugar-candy. Boil the galls and
logwood together in twelve pounds of water for one hour, or till half
the liquid has been evaporated. Strain the decoction through a hair
sieve, or linen cloth, and then add the other ingredients. Stir the
mixture till the whole is dissolved, more especially the gum; after
which, leave it to subside for twenty-four hours. Then decant the
ink, and preserve it in bottles of glass or stone-ware well corked.

500
INK MAKING.
Another Receipt to make One Gallon of Black Writing Ink-Into a
glazed stone jar or pitcher put one pound of Aleppo galls, slightly
bruised; then add one gallon of rain water, nearly of a boiling heat;
let these stand together for fourteen days upon the kitchen hearth, or
moderately warm; after that time add four ounces of green copperas
or sulphate of iron, four ounces of logwood chips or shavings, one ounce
of alum, one ounce of sugar-candy, and four ounce of gum-arabic or
senegal. Let the whole remain ten or twelve days longer in a mode-
rate heat, the mouth of the vessel slightly covered with paper. Stir
the ingredients well with a stick twice a day during the whole time;
then strain off the ink through linen or flannel, bottle it, pour a little
brandy on the top of the ink in each bottle, then cork them well, and
keep them for use in a place of temperate heat.
This ink may be depended upon as excellent, durable, and pre-
serving the writing all a deep black.
N.B. The best galls for the purpose are those which are dark colour-
ed, heavy, and free from grub holes.
Red Writing Ink is made in the following manner: Take of the
raspings of Brazil-wood a quarter of a pound, and infuse them two or
three days in vinegar. Boil the infusion for an hour over a gentle
fire, and afterwards filtre it while hot. Put it again over the fire, and
dissolve in it, first, half an ounce of gum-arabic, and afterwards of
alum and white sugar each half an ounce.
Another Method to make Red Ink.-Take a quarter of a pound of
the best Brazil-wood (get it in the log if possible, and rasp or shave
it yourself), one ounce of cream of tartar, and one ounce of alum ;
boil these ingredients in a quart of clear water till half is consumed,
then add to the ink, when filtered hot, one ounce of gum-arabic and
one ounce of fine sugar.
A little salt added will prevent it from becoming mouldy.
To prevent Ink from moulding.-Half a dozen cloves, bruised with
gum-arabic, are to be put into the bottle. If a very fine ink is wanted,
white wine, or vinegar and water, should be used instead of water
alone.
To make Indian Ink.—Put six lighted wicks into a dish of oil; hang
an iron or tin concave cover over it so as to receive all the smoke;
when there is a sufficient quantity of soot settled to the cover, then
take it off gently with a feather upon a sheet of paper, and mix it up
with gum-tragacanth to a proper consistence.
N.B. The clearest oil makes the finest soot, consequently the best
ink.
To make China Ink.-Take dried black horse beans, burn them to a
powder, mix them up with gum-arabic water, and bring them to a
mass; press it well, and let it dry.
Substitute for Indian Ink.-Boil parchment slips, or cuttings of
glove leather, in water, till it forms a size, which, when cool, becomes
of the consistence of jelly; then having blackened an earthen plate,
by holding it over the flame of a candle, mix up, with a camel-hair
pencil, the fine lamp-black thus obtained, with some of the above
size, while the plate is still warm. This black requires no grinding,
and produces an ink of the very best colour, which works as freely with
the pencil, and is as perfectly transparent as the best Indian ink; it
possesses the advantage of furnishing artists with a substitute for that
2.
'INK MAKING.
561
article, which may be prepared in situations where it might be difficult
to obtain the ink itself.
German Black for Printers.-Take the lees of port wine, dry and
burn them; add thereto good ivory-black, the stones of cherries,
plums, or other stone fruit, burnt in close vessels, and fine soft charcoal
made from burnt willow; grind the whole well together into one mass,
from which the best printing ink may be formed.
Permanent Writing Ink.-As common writing ink is susceptible of
being effaced by oxygenated muriatic acid, and as the knowledge of
this fact may be abused to very fraudulent purposes, the following
composition for inks, absolutely indestructible, is recommended to the
notice of the curious:
Boil one ounce of Brazil-wood, and three ounces of nut-galls, in
forty-six ounces of water, till they shall be reduced to thirty ounces in
all. Pour this decoction, while it is yet hot, upon half an ounce of sul-
phate of iron, or martial vitriol, a quarter of an ounce of gum-arabic,
and a quarter of an ounce of white sugar. After these substances are
dissolved, add to the solution one ounce and a quarter of indigo, finely
pulverized, with three quarters of an ounce of lamp-black, very pure,
of smoke black, previously diluted in one ounce of the best brandy.
The following receipt is still more simple: Boil one ounce of Bra-
zil-wood with twelve ounces of water, and half an ounce of alum ;
continue the ebullition till the liquid mixture shall have been reduced
to eight ounces; then add an ounce of the black oxyde of manganese,
which has been reduced by decantation to extreme fineness, and, in
mixture with it, half an ounce of gum-arabic.
Remark.—The chief advantage of this ink (said to be proposed by
Schever) is, that it is in part a printer's ink: the black oxyde of man-
ganese and the lamp-black not being affected by acids, and the indigo
in powder but slightly, so that they must be effaced by rubbing or
washing off, and not by solution. The ink, however, is not absolutely
indestructible, nor equal to the common indelible ink, which may be
used on paper as well as silk, linen, and cotton cloths.
Permanent Red Ink for marking Linen. This useful preparation,
which was contrived by the late learned and ingenious Dr. Smellie of
Edinburgh, who was originally a printer in that city, may be used
either with types, a hair pencil, or even with a pen. Take half an
ounce of vermilion, and a dram of salt of steel; let them be finely levi-
gated with linseed-oil to the thickness or limpidity required for the
occasion. This has not only a very good appearance; but will, it is said,
be found perfectly to resist the effects of acids, as well as of all alkaline
leys. It may be made of other colours, by substituting the proper
articles instead of vermilion.
M
Sympathetic Inks.--Sympathetic inks are such as do not appear after
they are written with, but which may be made to appear at pleasure.
A variety of substances have been used for this purpose. We shall
describe the best of them.
1. Dissolve some sugar of lead in water, and write with the solu-
tion. When dry no writing will be visible. When you want to make
it appear, wet the paper with a solution of alkaline sulphuret (liver of
sulphur), and the letters will immediately appear of a brown colour.
Even exposing the writing to the vapours of these solutions will ren-
der it apparent.
7
4 C
562
REMOVING STAINS.
2. Write with a solution of gold in aqua-regia, and let the paper dry
gently in the shade. Nothing will appear; but draw a sponge over
it wetted with a solution of tin in aqua-regia; the writing will im-
mediately appear of a purple colour.
3. Write with an infusion of galls; and when you wish the writing
to appear, dip it into a solution of green vitriol; the letters will appear
black.
4. Write with diluted sulphuric acid, and nothing will be visible.
To render it so, hold it to the fire, and the letters will instantly ap-
pear black.
5. Juice of lemons or onions, a solution of sal ammoniac, green vi-
triol, &c. will answer the same purpose, though not so easily or with
so little heat.
•
6. Green sympathetic ink. Dissolve cobalt in nitro-muriatic acid,
and write with the solution. The letters will be invisible till held to
the fire, when they will appear green, and will disappear completely
again when removed into the cold. In this manner they may be made
to appear and disappear at pleasure.
A very pleasant experiment of this kind, is to make a drawing re-
presenting a winter scene, in which the trees appear void of leaves,
and to put the leaves on with this sympathetic ink; then, upon holding
the drawing near to the fire, the leaves will begin to appear in all the
verdure of spring, and will very much surprise those who are not in
the secret.
7. Blue sympathetic ink. Dissolve cobalt in nitric acid; precipitate
the cobalt by potass; dissolve this precipitated oxyde of cobalt in ace-
tic acid, and add to the solution one-eighth of common salt. This
will form a sympathetic ink, that, when cold, will be invisible, but
will appear blue by heat.
CHAP. XVIII.
REMOVING STAINS.
THE stains of ink on cloth, paper, or wood, may be removed by al-
most all acids, but those acids are to be preferred which are least likely
to injure the texture of the stained substance. The muriatic acid, di-
luted with five or six times its weight of water, may be applied to the
spot, and after a minute or two may be washed off, repeating the ap-
plication as often as may be found necessary. But the vegetable acids
are attended with less risk, and are equally effectual. A solution of
the oxalic, citric (acid of lemons), or tartareous acids in water, may be
applied to the most delicate fabrics without any danger of injuring
them; and the same solutions will discharge writing, but not printing
ink. Hence they may be employed in cleaning books which have been
defaced by writing on the margin, without impairing the text. Le-
mon juice, and the juice of sorrels, will also remove ink stains, but not
so easily as the concrete acid of lemons or citric acid.
To remove Iron Stains.-These may be occasioned either by ink
▾
REMOVING STAINS.
568
་
stains, which, on the application of the soap, are changed into iron
stains, or by the direct contact of rusted iron. They may be removed
by diluted muriatic acid, or by one of the vegetable acids already men-
tioned. When suffered to remain long on cloth, they become extremely
difficult to take out, because the iron, by repeated moistening with wa-
ter, and exposure to the air, acquires such an addition of oxygen, as
renders it insoluble in acids. It has been found, however, that even
these spots may be discharged, by applying first a solution of an alka-
line sulphuret, which must be well washed from the cloth, and after-
wards a liquid acid. The sulphuret, in this case, extracts part of the
oxygen from the iron, and renders it soluble in diluted acids.
To remove the Stains of Fruit and Wine.-These are best removed-
by a watery solution of the oxygenated muriatic acid, or by that of oxy-
genated muriate of potass or lime, to which a little sulphuric acid has
been added. The stained spot may be steeped in one of these solutions
till it is discharged; but the solution can only be applied with safety
to white goods, because the uncombined oxygenated acid discharges
all printed and dyed colours. A convenient mode of applying the oxy-
genated acid, easily practicable by persons who have not the apparatus
for saturating water with the gas, is as follows: Put about a table-spoon-
ful of muriatic acid (spirit of salt) into a tea-cup, and add to it about a
tea-spoonful of powdered manganese; then set this cup in a larger one
filled with hot water; moisten the stained spot with water, and expose
it to the fumes that arise from the tea-cup. If the exposure be con-
tinued a sufficient length of time, the stain will disappear.


To remove Spots of Grease from Cloth.-Spots of grease may be re-
moved by a diluted solution of potass, but this must be cautiously ap-
plied, to prevent injury to the cloth. Stains of white wax, which some-
times fall upon the clothes from wax candles, are removable by spirits
of turpentine, or sulphuric ether. The marks of white paint may also
be discharged by the last mentioned agents.
-
•
To take Spots of Grease out of Books, Prints, or Paper.—After hav-
ing gently warmed the paper that is stained with grease, wax, oil, or
any other fat body, take out as much as possible of it by means of
blotting paper; then dip a small brush in the essential oil of turpen-
tine, heated almost to ebullition (for when cold it acts only very weak-
ly), and draw it gently over both sides of the paper, which must be
carefully kept warm. This operation must be repeated as many times
as the quantity of the fat body imbibed by the paper, or the thickness
of the paper, may render necessary. When the greasy substance is
entirely removed, recourse may be had to the following method to re-
store the paper to its former whiteness, which is not completely restor-
ed by the first process. Dip another brush in highly rectified spirit of
wine, and draw it in like manner over the place which was stained, and
particularly round the edges, to remove the border that would still pre-
sent a stain. By employing these means with proper caution, the spot
will totally disappear, the paper will resume its original whiteness, and
if the process has been employed on a part written on with common
ink, or printed with printer's ink, it will experience no alteration.
To make portable Balls, for removing Spots from Clothes in general.-
Take fullers-earth, perfectly dried, so that it crumbles into a powder;
moisten it with the clear juice of lemons, and add a small quantity of
pure pearl ashes; then work and knead the whole carefully together,
564
REMOVING STAINS.
till it acquires the consistence of a thick elastic paste; form it into con-
venient small balls, and expose them to the heat of the sun, in which
they ought to be completely dried. In this state they are fit for use in
the manner following:-First, moisten the spot on your clothes with
water, then rub it with the ball just described, and suffer it again to
dry in the sun after having washed the spot with pure water, it will
entirely disappear.
The Fumes of Brimstone useful in removing Spots or Stains in Linen,
&c.--If a red rose be held in the fumes of a brimstone-match, the co-
lour will soon begin to change, and, at length, the flower will become
white. By the same process, fruit-stains or iron-moulds may be re-
moved from linen or cotton cloths, if the spots be previously moistened
with water. With iron-moulds, weak muriatic acid is preferable, as-
sisted by heat; as by laying the cloth on a tea-pot or kettle, filled with
boiling water.
To remove Spots of Grease from Paper.-Take an equal quantity of
roach alum, burnt, and flower of brimstone, finely powdered together;
wet the paper a little, and put a small quantity of the powder on the
place, rubbing it gently with your finger, and the spot will disappear.
Substitute for Salt of Sorrel, for removing Ink Spots and Iron-moulds.-
Take six parts of crystals of tartar, in powder, three parts of alum, like-
wise pulverized, and use them in the same manner as salt of sorrel.

Expeditious Method of taking out Stains from Scarlet, or Velvet of any
other Colour.-Take soap wort, bruise it, strain out its juices, and add
to it a small quantity of black soap. Wash the stain with this liquor,
suffering it to dry between whiles, and by this method the spots will in
a day or two entirely disappear.
.
To take Spots effectually out of Silk, Linen, or Woollen.-Spirits of
turpentine, twelve drops, and the same quantity of spirits of wine ;
grind these with an ounce of pipe-maker's clay, and rub the spots
therewith. You are to wet the composition when you do either silk,
linen, or woollen with it; let it remain till dry, then rub it off, and the
spot or spots will disappear.
True spirits of salts, diluted with water, will remove iron-moulds
from linen; and sal-ammoniac, with lime, will take out the stains of
wine.
To take the Stains of Grease from Woollen or SilkThree ounces of
spirits of wine, three ounces of French chalk, powdered, and five ounces
of pipe-clay. Mix the above ingredients, and make them up in rolls
about the length of a finger, and you will find a never-failing remedy
for removing grease from woollen or silken goods.
N. B. It is to be applied by rubbing on the spot either dry or wet,
and afterwards brushing the place.
Easy and safe Method of discharging Grease Spots from Woollen
Cloths-Fullers'-earth, or tobacco-pipe clay, being put wet on an oil
spot, absorbs the oil as the water evaporates, and leaves the vegetable
or animal fibres of cloth clean, on being beaten or brushed out. When
the spot is occasioned by tallow or wax, it is necessary to heat the part
cautiously by an iron or the fire, while the cloth is drying. In some
kinds of goods, blotting paper, bran, or raw starch, may be used with
advantage.
To take out Spots of Ink.-As soon as the accident happens, wet the
..},

REMOVING STAINS.
565
1
place with juice of sorrel or lemon, or with vinegar, and the best hard
white soap.
}
To take Iron-moulds out of Linen.-Hold the iron-mould on the cover
of a tankard of boiling water, and rub on the spot a little juice of sorrel
and a little salt, and when the cloth has thoroughly imbibed the juice,
wash it in ley.
To take out Spots on Silk.-Rub the spots with spirit of turpentine ;
this spirit exhaling, carries off with it the oil that causes the spot.
To take Wax out of velvet of all Colours, except Crimson.-Take a
crumby wheaten loaf, cut it in two, toast it before the fire, and, while
very hot, apply it to the part spotted with wax. Then apply another
piece of toasted bread hot as before, and continue this application till
the wax is entirely taken out.
Process for preparing nitrous Acid for extracting Stains, &c. from
tanned Leather.Take half a pint of water, a quarter of a pint of ni-
trous acid, and half an ounce of salts of lemon. Put the water in a bot-
tle, and add the nitrous acid to it, and afterwards the salts of lemon;
when the heat which is caused by this mixture has subsided, add half
a pint of skimmed milk; shake them occasionally for three or four days,
and the liquor will be fit for use.
The application.-With a brush and soft water clean the surface of
the leather from all grease, dirt, &c. Next scrape on it a little Bath
brick, or white free sand; add a little of the above liquor, and with a
brush scour it well, repeating this process till the whole has been gone
over; then, with a clean sponge and water, wash off what remains of
the brick leave the leather to dry gradually, and it will be of a light
new colour. If it is wished to be darker, brush it with a hard brush a
little before it is dry, and it will be of a rich brown tinge.
To extract Grease Spots from Paper.-Scrape finely some pipe-clay,
the quantity of which may be easily determined on making the experi-
ment: lay thereon the sheet or leaf, and cover the spot in like manner
with the clay; cover the whole with a sheet of paper; then apply, for
a few seconds, a heated ironing box, or any substitute adopted by
laundresses. On using Indian rubber to remove the dust taken up by
the
grease, the
paper will be found restored to its original degree of
whiteness and opacity.
To remove Spots of Grease from Books and Prints.-After having
gently warmed the paper stained with grease, wax, oil, or any fat body
whatever, take out as much as possible of it, by means of blotting pa-
per. Then dip a small brush in the essential oil of well-rectified spirit
of turpentine, heated almost to an ebullition (for when cold it acts only
very weakly), and draw it gently over both sides of the paper, which
must be carefully kept warm. This operation must be repeated as
many times as the quantity of the fat body imbibed by the paper, or the
thickness of the paper, may render necessary. When the greasy sub-
stance is entirely removed, recourse may be had to the following me-
thod to restore the paper to its former whiteness, which is not completely
restored by the first process. Dip another brush in highly rectified
spirit of wine, and draw it, in like manner, over the place which was
stained, and particularly round the edges, to remove the border, that
would still present a stain. By employing these means, with proper
caution, the spot will totally disappear; the paper will resume its ori-
ginal whiteness; and if the process has been employed on a part writ-

566
REMOVING STAINS.
ten on with common ink, or printed with printer's ink, it will experi-
ence no alteration.
To take Spots out of Cloths, Stuffs, Silk, Cotton, and Linen.---Take
two quarts of spring water, put in it a little fine white potass, about the
quantity of a walnut, and a lemon cut in slices; mix these well together,
and let it stand for twenty-four hours in the sun; then strain it off,
and put the clear liquid up for use.
This water takes out all spots,
whether pitch, grease, or oil, as well in hats, as cloths and stuffs, silk
or cotton, and linen. As soon as the spot is taken out, wash the place
with fair water; for cloths of a deep colour, add to a spoonful of the
mixture as much fair water as to weaken it.
Grease spots in cloth may be removed by using soap and water with
a tooth or nail brush, and afterwards wiping off the lather with the wet
corner of a towel. Essence of lemon, or pure spirit of turpentine, will
remove pitch from cloth, &c.
In woollen cloth, an easier method is to scrape off the hard tallow
with the edge of a tea-spoon, then rub the part briskly with a clean
woollen rag, shifting the rag as the part becomes dirty; or, place some
blotting paper on the spot, press it with a hot iron, occasionally moving
the paper.
Remedy against the Effects of Ink, when just spilled.--If the ink be
spilled on a ruffle, or apron, &c. while you have it on, let one hold the
spotted part between his two hands over a bason and rub it, while an-
other pours water gradually from a decanter upon it, and let a whole
pitcher-full be used if necessary; or if the ruffle, apron, &c. be at liberty,
let it be dipped into a bason filled with water, and there squeezed and
dipped in again, taking care to change the water in abundance every
two or three squeezes. If the ink be spilled on a green table carpet, it
may immediately be taken out with a tea-spoon so entirely, that scarcely
any water at all shall be wanted afterwards, provided it was only that
instant spilled, as the down of the cloth prevents the immediate soak-
ing in of the ink, or of any other liquor (except oil); but if it have
lain some time, be the time ever so long, provided the place be still wet,
by pouring on it fresh clean water by little and little at a time, and
gathering it up again each time with a spoon, pressing hard to squeeze
it out of the cloth into the spoon, you will at last bring it to its natural
colour, as if no such accident had happened.
CHAP. XIX.
STAINING WOOD.
To Stain Wood Yellow.---Take any white wood, and brush it over
several times with the tincture of turmeric root, made by putting an
ounce of turmeric, ground to powder, to a pint of spirit, and after
they have stood for some days, straining off the tincture. If the yel-
low colour be desired to have a reddish cast, a little dragon's blood
must be added.
STAINING WOOD.
567
A cheaper, but less strong and bright yellow, is by the tincture of
French berries made boiling hot.
Wood may also be stained yellow by means of aquafortis, which will
sometimes produce a very beautiful yellow colour, but at other times a
browner. Care must be taken, however, that the aquafortis be not too
strong, otherwise a blackish colour will be the result.
To stain Wood Red.-For a bright red stain for wood, make a
strong infusion of Brazil-wood in stale urine, or water impregnated
with pearl-ashes, in the proportion of an ounce to a gallon; to a gal-
lon of either of which, the proportion of Brazil wood must be a pound,
which being put to them, they must stand together for two or three
days, often stiring the mixture. With this infusion strained, and made
boiling hot, brush over the wood to be stained till it appear strongly
coloured; then, while yet wet, brush it over with alum water made
in the proportion of two ounces of alum to a quart of water.
For a less bright red, dissolve an ounce of dragon's blood in a pint of
spirits of wine, and brush over the wood with the tincture till the stain
appear to be as strong as is desired; but this is, in fact, rather lac-
quering than staining.
For a pink or rose red, add to a gallon of the above infusion of
Brazil-wood two additional ounces of the pearl-ashes, and use it as
was before directed: but it is necessary, in this case, to brush the wood
over with the alum water. By increasing the proportion of pearl-
ashes, the red may be rendered yet paler; but it is proper, when more
than this quantity is added, to make the alum water stronger.
To stain Wood Blue.---Wood may be stained blue by means either of
copper or indigo.
The method of staining blue with copper is as follows: Make a so-
lution of copper in aquafortis, and brush it while hot several times over
the wood; then make a solution of pearl-ashes in the proportion of
two ounces to a pint of water, and brush it hot over the wood stained
with the solution of copper, till it be of a perfectly blue colour.
To stain Wood Green.-Dissolve verdigrise in vinegar, or crystals of
verdigrise in water, and with the hot solution brush over the wood till
it be duly stained.
To stain Wood Purple.--Brush the wood to be stained several times
with a strong decoction of logwood and Brazil, made in the proportion
of one pound of the logwood, and a quarter of a pound of the Brazil,
to a gallon of water, and boiled for an hour or more. When the wood
has been brushed over till there be a sufficient body of colour, let it dry,
and then be slightly passed over by a solution of one drachm of pearl-
ashes in a quart of water. This solution must be carefully used, as it
will gradually change the colour from a brown red, which it will be
originally found to be, to a dark blue purple, and therefore its effect
must be restrained to the due point for producing the colour desired.
To stain Wood a Mahogany Colour. The substances used for stain-
ing mahogany colour are madder, Brazil-wood, and logwood; each of
which produce reddish brown stains, and they must be mixed together
in such proportions as will produce the tint required.
To stain Wood Black.-Brush the wood several times over with a
hot decoction of logwood. Then having prepared an infusion of galls
by putting a quarter of a pound of powdered galls to two quarts of wa-
ter, and setting them in the sunshine, or any other gentle heat, for

·
A
568
PYROTECHNY.
three or four days, brush the wood over three or four times with it,
and it will be of a beautiful black. It may be polished with a hard
brush and shoemakers' black wax.
CHAP. XX.
PYROTECHNY,
OR THE ART OF PREPARING ALL KINDS OF FIRE WORKS.
7
Of Ingredients and Compositions.
SALTPETRE being the principal ingredient in fire-works, and a vola-
tile body by reason of its aqueous and aërial parts, is easily rarefied by
fire, but not so soon when foul and gross as when purified from its
crude and earthy parts, which greatly retard its velocity. When any
quantity, therefore, of fire-works are to be made, it should be examin-
ed; for if it is not well cleansed, and of a good sort, your works will
not have their proper effect; neither will the nitre agree with the re-
quired proportions. Therefore,
To refine Saltpetre.-Put in a copper or any other vessel, 100lb. of
the rough salt, with 14 gallons of clean water, let it boil gently half an
hour, and as it boils take off the scum: then stir it, and before it settles
put it into your filtering bags, which must be hung on a rack, with
glazed earthen pans under them, in which must be sticks laid across
for the crystals to adhere to; it must stand in the pans two or three
days to shoot; then take out the crystals, and let them dry. The
water that remains in the pans boil again an hour, and strain it into
the pans as before, and the saltpetre will be quite clear and transpa-
rent; if not, it wants more refining; to do which proceed as usual,
till it is well cleansed of all its earthy parts. Those who do not
choose to procure their saltpetre by the above method, máy buy it
ready made.


-
and
To pulverise Saltpetre.---Take a copper kettle, whose bottom must
be spherical, and put into it 14lb. of refined saltpetre, with two quarts
or five pints of clean water: then put the kettle on a slow fire
when the saltpetre is dissolved, if any impurities arise, skim them off,
and keep constantly stirring with two large spatulas, till all the water
exhales; and, when done enough, it will appear like white sand, and
us fine as flour; but, if it should boil too fast, take the kettle off the
fire, and set it on some wet sand, which will prevent the nitre from
sticking to the kettle. When you have pulverised a quantity of salt-
petre, be careful to keep it in a dry place.
To extract Saltpetre from damaged Gunpowder.---Have some filtering
bags hung on a rack, with glazed earthen pans under them, in the
same manner as those for refining saltpetre; then take any quantity
of damaged powder, and put it into a copper, with as much clean wa-

. PYROTECHNY.
569
ter as will cover it: when it begins to boil, take off the scum; and,
after it has boiled a few minutes, stir it up: then take it out of the
copper with a small hand-kettle for that purpose, and put some into
each bag, beginning at one end of the rack, so that by the time you
have got to the last bag, the first will be ready for more. Continue
thus till all the bags are full: then take the liquor out of the pans ;
which boil and filter as before, two or three times, till the water run
quite clear, which you must let stand in the pan some time, and the
saltpetre will appear at top. To get the saltpetre entirely out of the
powder, take-the water from that already extracted, to which add
some fresh, and the dregs of the powder that remain in the bags, and
put them in a vessel, to stand as long as you please: and, when you
want to extract the nitre, you must proceed with this mixture as with
the powder at first, by which means you will draw out all the salt-
petre; but this process must be boiled longer than the first.
Sulphur, or Brimstone.-Sulphur is one of the principal ingre-
dients in gunpowder, and almost in all compositions of fire-works; and
therefore great care must be taken of its being good, and brought to
the highest perfection. To know when sulphur is good, you are to ob-
serve that it is of a high yellow; and if, when held in one's hand, it
crackles and bounces, it is a sign that it is fresh and good: but, as the
method of reducing brimstone to a powder is very troublesome, it is
better to buy the flour ready made, which is done in large quantities,
and in great perfection; though when a grand collection of fire-works
is to be made, the strongest and best sulphur is the lump brimstone
ground in the manner directed farther on.
Charcoal.-Charcoal is a preservative by which the saltpetre and
brimstone are made into gunpowder, by preventing the sulphur from
suffocating the strong and windy exhalation of the nitre. Charcoal for
fire-works must always be soft and well burnt, which may be bought
ready done.
}
Gunpowder.-Take four ounces of refined saltpetre, an ounce of
brimstone, and six drams of small-coal; reduce these to a fine powder,
and continue beating them for some time in a stone mortar with a
wooden pestle, wetting the mixture between whiles with water, so as
to form the whole in an uniform paste, which is reduced to grains by
passing it through a wire sieve fit for the purpose; and in this form
being carefully dried, it becomes the common gunpowder. For mak-
ing great quantities mills are built, by means of which more work
may be done in one day than a man can do in a hundred.

Camphor.-This may be had in the shops; and is of two kinds, dif-
fering in regard to the degree of their purity, and distinguished by the
name of rough and refined. Refined camphor must be chosen of a
porfectly clean white colour, very bright and pellucid, of the same
smell and taste with the rough, but more acrid and pungent. It is so
volatile, that merchants usually inclose it in lintseed, that the viscosity
of that grain may keep its particles together.
Benjamin. This is a resin found of different sorts; and distinguished
by their colours, viz. yellow, grey, and brown; but the best is that
which is easy to break, and full of white spots. It is one of the ingre-
dients in odoriferous fire-works, when reduced to a fine flour; which
may be done by putting into a deep and narrow earthen pot 3 or 4 oz.
of benjamin grossly pounded; cover the pot with paper, which tie very
4 D
570
PYROTECHNY.
close round the edge; then set the pot on a slow fire, and once in an
hour take off the paper, and you will find some flour sticking to it,
which return again into the pot; this you must continue till the flour
appear white and fine.
There is also an oil of benjamin, which is
sometimes drawn from the dregs of the flour; it affords a very good
scent, and may be used in wet compositions.
Spur Fire. This fire is the most beautiful and curious of any yet
known; and was invented by the Chinese, but now is in greater per-
fection in England than in China. As it requires great trouble to make
it to perfection, it will be necessary that beginners should have full
instructions; therefore care should be taken that all the ingredients are
of the best; that the lamp-black is not damp and clodded, that the saltpe-
tre and brimstone are thoroughly refined. This composition is gene-
rally rammed in 1 or 2 oz. cases about 5 or 6 inches long, but not
driven very hard; and the cases must have their concave stroke struck
very smooth, and the choak or vent not quite so large as the usual
proportion; this charge, when driven and kept a few months, will be
much better than when rammed; and will not spoil, if kept dry, in
many years.
S
As the beauty of this composition cannot be seen at so great a dis-
tance as brilliant fire, it has a better effect in a room than in the
open air, and may be fired in a chamber without any danger: it is
of so innocent a nature, that, though with an improper phrase, it may
be called a cold fire; and so extraordinary is the fire produced from
this composition, that, if well made, the sparks will not burn a hand-
kerchief when held in the midst of them. You may hold them in
your hand while burning with as much safety as a candle; and if
you put your hand within a foot of the mouth of the case, you will
feel the sparks drop like drops of rain. When any of these spur-fires
are fired singly, they are called artificial flower-pots; but some of them
placed round a transparent pyramid of paper, and fired in a large
room, make a very pretty appearance.
The composition consists of saltpetre 4 lb. 8 oz. sulphur 2 lb. and
lamp-black 1 lb. 8 oz. ; or saltpetre 1 lb. sulphur lb. and lamp-black 4
quarts. This composition is very difficult to mix. The saltpetre and
brimstone must be first sifted together, and then put into a marble
mortar, and the lamp-black with them, which you work down by de-
grees with a wooden pestle, till all the ingredients appear of one colour,
which will be something greyish, but very near black: then drive a
little into a case for trial, and fire it in a dark place; and if the
sparks, which are called stars or pinks, come out in clusters, and af-
terwards spread well without any other sparks, it is a sign of its being
good, otherwise not; for if any drossy sparks appear, and the stars
not full, it is then not mixed enough; but if the pinks are very small,
and soon break, it is a sign that you have rubbed it too much.
This mixture, when rubbed too much, will be too fierce, and hardly
shew any stars; and, on the contrary, when not mixed enough, will
be too weak, and throw out an obscure smoke, and lumps of dross,
without any stars. The reason of this charge being called the spur-
fire is, because the sparks it yields have a great resemblance to the
rowel of a spur, from whence it takes its name
#
PYROTECHNY.
571
To meal Gunpowder, Brimstone, and Charcoal.
There have been many methods used to grind these ingredients to
a powder for fire-works, such as large mortars and pestles made of
ebony and other hard wood, and horizontal mills with brass barrels ;
but none have proved so effectual and speedy as the last invention,
that of the mealing-table, made of elm, with a rim round its edge
four or five inches high; and at the narrow end is a slider that runs
in a groove, and forms part of the rim: so that, when you have taken
out of the table as much powder as you can with the copper shovel,
sweep all clean out at the slider. When you are going to meal a quan-
tity of powder, observe not to put too much in the table at once; but
when you have put in a good proportion, take the muller and rub it
till all the grains are broke; then searce it in a lawn sieve that has a
receiver and top to it; and that which does not pass through the
sieve, return again to the table, and grind it till you have brought it
all fine enough to go through the sieve. Brimstone and charcoal are
ground in the same manner, only the muller must be made of ebony;
for these ingredients, being harder than powder, would stick in the
grain of elm, and be difficult to grind. As brimstone is apt to stick
and clod to the table, it will be best to keep one for that pursose, by
which means you will always have your brimstone clean and well
ground. These may be purchased at any of the turners' shops in
London.

1
To make Wheels and other Works incombustible.
It being necessary, when your works are new, to paint them of some
dark colour; therefore, if, instead of paint, you make use of the fol-
lowing composition, it will give them a good colour, and in a great
measure prevent their taking fire so soon as if painted. Take brick-
cust, coal-ashes, and iron-filings, of each an equal quantity, and mix
them with a double size, made hot. With this wash over your works,
and when dry wash them over again; this will preserve the wood
greatly against fire. Let the brick-dust and ashes be beat to a fine
powder.
Το prepare Cast Iron for Gerbes, white Fountains, and Chinese Fire.
Cast-iron being of so hard a nature as not to be cut by a file, we are
obliged to reduce it into grains, though somewhat difficult to perform;
but, if we consider what beautiful sparks this sort of iron yields, no
pains should be spared to granulate such an essential material; to do
which, get at an iron-foundry some thin pieces of iron, such as gene-
rally run over the mould at the time of casting: then have a square
block made of cast-iron, and an iron square hammer about four pounds
weight; then, having covered the floor with cloth, or something to
catch the beatings, lay the thin pieces of iron on the block, and beat
them with the hammer till reduced into small grains; which after-
wards searce with a very fine seive, to separate the fine duɛt, which is
sometimes used in small cases of brilliant fire, instead of steel dust;
and, when you have got out all the dust, sift what remains with a sieve
a little larger, and so on with sieves of different sizes, till the iron
passes through about the bigness of small bird-shot: your iron thus
beat and sifted, put each sort into wooden boxes or oiled paper to keep
it from rusting. When you use it, observe the difference of its size, in
proportion to the cases for which the charge is intended; for the
coarse sort is only designed for very large gerbes of 6 or 81b.
572
PYROTECHNY.
****
A₂
Charges for Sky Rockets, &c.
Rockets of four ounces.--Meal powder 1 lb. 4 oz. saltpetre 4 oz. and
charcoal 2 oz.
Rockets of eight ounces.-Method I.
4 oz. brimstone 3 oz. and charcoal 1½ oz.
Meal powder 1 lb. saltpetre
Method II. Meal powder
14lb. and charcoal 4 oz.
Rockets of one pound.-Meal powder 2 lb. saltpetre 8 oz. brimstone
4 oz. charcoal 2 oz. and steel-filings 44 oz.

Sky Rockets in general.--Method I. Saltpetre 1 lb. brimstone 1 lb. and
charcoal 14 lb. II. Saltpetre 4 lb. brimstone 14 lb. charcoal 1lb. 12 oz.
and meal powder 2 oz.
Large Sky Rockets.--Saltpetre 4 lb. meal powder 1 lb. and brim-
stone 1 lb.
Rockets of a middling size.-Method I. Saltpetre 8 lb. sulphur 3 lb.
meal powder 3 lb. II. Saltpetre 3 lb, sulphur 2 lb. meal powder 1 lb.
charcoal 1 lb.
For Rocket Stars.
White Stars.--Meal powder 4 oz. saltpetre 12 oz. sulphur vivum
6 oz. oil of spike 2 oz. and camphor 5 oz.
Blue Stars.--Meal powder 8 oz. saltpetre 4, sulphur 2, spirit of
wine 2, and oil of spike 2.
Coloured or variegated Stars.-Meal powder 8 drams, rochpetre 4 oz.
sulphur vivum 2, and camphor 2.
3
Brilliant Stars.-Saltpetre 3 oz. sulphur 14, and meal powder 2,
worked up with spirits of wine only.
Common Stars.-Saltpetre 1 lb. brimstone 4 oz. antimony 43, isin-
glass, camphor, and spirits of wine 2.
3
IT
Tailed Stars, or Snakes.-Meal powder 3 oz. brimstone 2, saltpetre 1,
and charcoal (coarsely ground) 2.
Drove Stars.-Method I. Saltpetre 3 lb. sulphur 1 lb. brass dust
12 oz. antimony 3. II. Saltpetre 1 lb. antimony 4 oz. and sulphur 8.
Fixed pointed Stars.-Saltpetre 8 oz. sulphur 2, and antimony 1 oz.
10 drams.
Stars of a fine Colour.-Sulphur 1 oz. meal powder 1, saltpetre 1,
camphor 4 dr. oil of turpentine 4 dr.
Rains.
Gold Rain for Sky Rockets.-Method I. Saltpetre 1 lb. meal powder
4 oz. sulphur 4, brass-dust 1, saw-dust 24, and glass-dust 6 dr. II.
Meal powder 12 oz. saltpetre 2, charcoal 4. III. Saltpetre 8 oz. brim-
stone 2, glass-dust 1, antimony, brass-dust, and saw-dust 12 dr.
Silver Rain.-Method I. Saltpetre 4 oz. sulphur, meal powder, and
antimony, of each 2 oz. sal prunella oz. II. Saltpetre lb. brim-
stone 2 oz. and charcoal 4. III. Saltpetre 1 lb. brimstone lb. anti-
mony 6 oz.
IV. Saltpetre 4 oz. brimstone 1, powder 2, and steel-
dust 2 oz.
Water Rockets.
Method I. Meal powder 6 lb. saltpetre 4, brimstone 3, charcoal 5.
II. Saltpetre 1 lb. brimstone 4 oz. charcoal 6. III. Saltpetre 1 lb.
brimstone 4 oz. charcoal 12. IV. Saltpetre 4 lb. brimstone 1 lb.
charcoal 1 lb. 12 oz. V. Brimstone 2 lb. saltpetre 4 lb. and meal-
powder 4. VI. Saltpetre 1 lb. meal powder 4 oz. brimstone 84, char-
coal 2. VII. Meal powder 1 lb. saltpetre 3, brimstone 1, sea-coal 1 oz.
PYROTECHNY.
573
oz.
charcoal 8, saw-dust, steel-dust, and coarse charcoal
VIII. Meal powder 12 lb. saltpetre 3, sulphur 14, charcoal 12 oz. saw-
dust 2.
Sinking Charges for Water Rockets. Meal powder 8 oz. charcoal oz.
Of Wheels.
Wheel-cases, from two Ounces to four Pounds.-Method I. Meal pow-
der 2 lb. saltpetre 4 oz. iron-filings 7. II. Meal powder 2 lb. saltpetre
12 oz. sulphur 4, steel-dust 3. III. Meal powder 4 lb. saltpetre 1 lb.
brimstone 8 oz. charcoal 44 lb. IV. Meal powder 8 oz. saltpetre 4, saw-
dust 1½, sea-coal 2. V. Meal powder 1 lb. 4 oz. brimstone 4 oz. 10 dr.
saltpetre 8 oz. glass-dust 24. VI. Meal powder 12 oz. charcoal 1, saw-
dust. VII. Saltpetre 1 lb. 9 oz. brimstone 4 oz. charcoal 4. VIII.
Meal powder 2 lb. saltpetre 1, brimstone 1, and sea-coal 2 oz. IX.
Saltpetre 2 lb. brimstone 1, meal powder 4, and glass-dust 4 oz.
Meal powder 1 lb. saltpetre 2 oz. and steel-dust 31. XI. Meal powder
2 lb. and steel-dust 2 oz. with 2 of the fine dust of beat iron. XII.
Saltpetre 2 lb. 13 oz. brimstone 8 oz. and charcoal.
X.
Slow Fire of Wheels-Method I. Saltpetre 4 oz. brimstone 2, and
meal powder 14. II. Saltpetre 4 oz. brimstone 1, and antimony 1 oz.
6 dr. III. Saltpetre 44 oz. brimstone I oz. and meal powder 14.
Dead Fire of Wheels.-Method I. Saltpetre 14 oz. brimstone, la-
pis calaminaris, and antimony 2 dr.
Standing on fixed Cases.
Method I. Meal powder 4 lb. saltpetre 2, brimstone and charcoal 1.
II. Meal powder 2 lb. saltpetre 1, and steel-dust 8 oz. III. Meal
powder 1 lb. 4 oz. and charcoal 4 oz. IV. Meal powder 1 lb. and
steel-dust 4 oz. V. Meal powder 2 lb. brimstone 4 oz. and sea-coal 6.
VI. Meal powder 3 lb. charcoal 5 oz. and saw-dust 14.
Sun Cases.
Method I. Meal powder 8 lb. saltpetre 1 lb. 2 oz. steel-dust 2 lb.
10 oz. brimstone 4. II. Meal powder 3 lb. saltpetre 6 oz. and steel-
dust 74.
A brilliant Fire.
Meal powder 11 lb. saltpetre 1, brimstone 4 oz. steel-dust 14 lb.
Gerbes.
Meal powder 6 lb, and beat iron 2 lb. 1 oz.
Chinese Fire.
Saltpetre 12 oz. meal powder 2 lb. brimstone 1 lb. 2 oz. and beat
iron 12 oz.
Tourbillons.
Charges for four-ounce Tourbillons.-Meal powder 2 lb. 4 oz. and char-
coal 42 oz.
Eight-ounce Tourbillons.-Meal powder 2 lb. and charcoal 42 oz.
Large Tourbillons.-Meal powder 2 lb. saltpetre 1, brimstone 8 oz.
and beat iron 8. Tourbillons may be made very large, and of differ-
ent-coloured fires; only you are to observe, that the larger they are,
the weaker must be the charge; and on the contrary, the smaller the
stronger their charge.
Water Balloons.
Method I. Saltpetre 4 lb. brimstone 2, meal powder 2, antimony
4 oz. saw-dust 4, and glass-dust 14. II. Saltpetre 9 lb. brimstone 3 lb.
meal powder 6 lb. rosin 12 oz. and antimony 8 oz.
574
PYROTECHNY.
•
Water Squibs.
Method I. Meal powder 1 lb. and charcoal 1 lb.
1 lb. charcoal 9 oz.
II. Meal powder
Mine Ports or Serpents.
Method I. Meal powder 1 lb. and charcoal 1 lb. II. Meal powder
1 lb. charcoal 9 oz.
•
Port Fires.
For firing Rockets, &c.-Method I. Saltpetre 12 oz. brimstone 4 oz.
and meal powder 2 oz. II. Saltpetre 8 oz. brimstone 4 oz. and meal
powder 2 oz. III. Saltpetre 1 lb. 2 oz. meal powder 14 lb. and brim-
stone 10 oz. This composition must be moistened with 1 gill of lin-
seed-oil. IV. Meal powder 6 oz. saltpetre 2 lb. 2 oz. and brimstone
10 oz. V. Saltpetre 1 lb. 4 oz. meal powder 4 oz. brimstone 5 oz. saw-
dust 8 oz.
VI. Saltpetre 8 oz. brimstone 2 oz. and meal powder 2 oz.
For Illuminations.-Saltpetre 1 lb. brimstone 8 oz. and meal powder
6 oz.
Cones or Spiral Wheels.
Saltpetre 14lb. brimstone 6 oz. meal powder 14. and glass-dust
14 oz.
Crowns or Globes.
Saltpetre 6 oz. brimstone 2 lb. antimony 4 oz. and camphor 2 oz.
Air Balloon Fuzes.
Method I. Saltpetre 1 lb. 10 oz. brimstone 8 oz. and meal powder
1 lb. 6 oz. II. Saltpetre 14 lb. brimstone 8 oz. and meal powder 1 Îb. 8 oz.
Serpents for Pots de Brins.
Meal powder 1 lb. 8 oz. saltpetre 12 oz. and charcoal 2 oz.
Fire Pumps.
Method I. Saltpetre 5 lb. brimstone 1 lb. meal powder 14 lb. and
glass-dust 1 lb. II. Saltpetre 5 lb. 8 oz. brimstone 2 lb. meal powder
1 lb. 8 oz. and glass-dust 1 lb. 8 oz.
A slow White Flame.
Method I. Saltpetre 2 lb. brimstone 3 lb. antimony 1 lb. II. Salt-
petre 3 lb. sulphur 24 lb. meal powder 1 lb. antimony lb. glass-
dust 4 oz. brass-dust 1 oz. These compositions, driven 14 inch in a
1 oz. case, will burn one minute, which is a much longer time than an
equal quantity of any composition yet known will last.
Amber Lights.
Meal powder 9 oz. amber 3 oz. This charge may be driven in small
cases for illuminations.
Lights of another Kind.
Saltpetre 3 lb. brimstone 1 lb. meal powder 1 lb. antimony 10½ oz.
All these must be mixed with the oil of spike.
A Red Fire.
Meal powder 3 lb. charcoal 12 oz. and saw-dust 8 oz.
A common Fire.
Saltpetre 3 lb. charcoal 10 oz. and brimstone 2 oz.
To make an Artificial Earthquake.
Mix the following ingredients to a paste with water, and then
bury it in the ground, and in a few hours the carth will break and
open in several places. The composition-sulphur 4 lb. and steel-dust
4 lb.
PYROTECHNY.
575
Compositions for Stars of different Colours..
Method I. Meal powder 4 oz. saltpetre 2 oz. brimstone 2 oz. steel-
dust 14 oz. and camphor, white amber, antimony, and mercury subli-
mate, of each oz. II. Rochpetre 10 oz. brimstone, charcoal, anti-
mony, meal powder, and camphor, each oz. moistened with oil of
turpentine. These powders are made into stars by being worked to a
paste with aqua-vitæ, in which has been dissolved some gum-traga-
canth; and after you have rolled them in powder, make a hole through
the middle of each, and string them on quick-match, leaving about
two inches between each. III. Saltpetre 8 oz. brimstone 2 oz. yellow
amber 1 oz. antimony 1 oz. and powder 3 oz. VI. Brimstone 2 oz.
saltpetre 6 oz. olibanum or frankincense in drops 4 oz. mastic, and
mercury sublimate, of each 4 oz. meal powder 5 oz. white amber, yel-
low amber, and camphor, of each 1 oz. antimony and orpiment oz.
each. V. Saltpetre 1 lb. brimstone lb. and meal powder 8 oz. moist-
ened with petrolio. VI. Powder lb. brimstone and saltpetre of each
½
VII. Saltpetre 4 oz. brimstone 2 oz. and meal powder 1 oz.
Stars that carry Tails of Sparks.-Method I. Brimstone 6 oz. anti-
mony crude 2 oz. saltpetre 4 oz. rosin 4 oz. II. Saltpetre, rosin, and
charcoal, of each 2 oz. brimstone 1 oz. and pitch 1 oz.
These compo-
sitions are sometimes melted in an earthen pan, and mixed with chop-
ped cotton-match, before they are rolled into stars; but will do as well
if wetted, and worked up in the usual manner.
4 oz.
Stars that yield some Sparks.-Method I. Camphor 2 oz. saltpetre
1 oz. meal powder 1 oz. II. Saltpetre 1 oz. ditto melted oz. and cam-
phor 2 oz. When you would make stars of either of these compositions,
you must wet them with gum-water, or spirits of wine, in which has
been dissolved some gum-arabic, or gum-tragacanth, that the whole
may have the consistence of a pretty thick liquid; having thus dore,
take 1 oz. of lint, and stir it about in the composition till it becomes
dry enough to roll into stars.
Stars of a Yellowish Colour.-Take 4 oz. of gum tragacanth or gum-
arabic, pounded and sifted through a sieve, camphor dissolved in
brandy 2 oz. saltpetre 1 lb. sulphur lb. coarse powder of glass 4 oz.
white amber 1 oz. orpiment 2 oz. Being well incorporated, make
them into stars after the common method.
Stars of another Kind.-Take 1 lb. of camphor, and melt it in a pint
of spirits of wine over a slow fire; then add to it 1 lb. of gum-arabic
that has been dissolved; with this liquor mix 1 lb. of saltpetre, 6 oz.
of sulphur, and 5 oz. of meal powder; and after you have stirred them
well together, roll them into stars proportionable to the rockets for
which you intend them.
Colours produced by the different Compositions.
As variety of fires adds greatly to a collection of works, it is ne-
cessary that every artist should know the different effect of each in-
gredient. For which reason we shall here explain the colours they
produce of themselves; and likewise how to make them retain the
same when mixed with other bodies: as for example, sulphur gives
a blue, camphor a white or pale colour, saltpetre à clear white yel-
low, amber a colour inclining to yellow, sal-ammoniac a green, anti-
mony a reddish, rosin a copper colour, and Greek pitch a kind of
bronze, or between red and yellow. All these ingredients are such as
shew themselves in flame, viz.
F
*

576
PYROTECHNY.
t
→
**
£

White Flame.-Saltpetre, sulphur, meal powder, and camphor; the
saltpetre must be the chief part.
Blue Flame.-Meal powder, saltpetre, and sulphur vivum; sulphur
must be the chief; or meal powder, saltpetre, brimstone spirit of wine,
and oil of spike; but let the powder be the princial part.
Flame inclining to Red.-Saltpetre, sulphur, antimony, and Greek
pitch; saltpetre the chief. By the above method may be made vari-
ous colours of fire, as the practitioner pleases; for by making a few
trials, he may cause any ingredient to be predominant in colour.
Ingredients that shew in Sparks when rammed in choaked Cases.
The set colours of fire produced by sparks are divided into four
sorts, viz. the black, white, grey, and red. The black charges are
composed of two ingredients, which are meal powder and charcoal;
the white of thee, viz. saltpetre, sulphur, and charcoal; the grey of
four, viz. meal powder, saltpetre, brimstone, and charcoal; and the
red of three, viz. meal powder, charcoal, and saw-dust. There are,
besides these four regular or set charges, two others, which are distin-
guished by the names of compound and brilliant charges, the compound
being made of many ingredients, such as meal powder, saltpetre, brim-
stone, charcoal, saw-dust, sea-coal, antimony, glass-dust, brass-dust, steel-
filings, cast-iron, tanners' dust, &c. or any thing that will yield sparks ;
all which must be managed with discretion. The brilliant fires are
composed of meal powder, saltpetre, brimstone, and steel-dust; or with
meal powder, and steel-filings only.
::
Cotton Quick-match
Is generally made of such cotton as is put in candles, of several
sizes, from one to six threads thick, according to the pipe it is design-
ed for; which pipe must be large enough for the match, when made,
to be pushed in easily without breaking it. Having doubled the cot-
ton into as many threads as you think proper, coil it very lightly into
a flat-bottom copper or earthen-pan; then put in the saltpetre and the
liquor, and boil them about twenty minutes; after which coil it again
into another pan, and pour on it what liquor remains; then put in
some meal powder, and press it down with your hands till it is quite
wet; afterwards place the pan before a wooden frame, which must be
suspended by a point in the centre of each end; and place yourself
before the pan, tying the upper end of the cotton to the end of one of
the sides of the frame. When every thing is ready, you must have
one to turn the frame round, while you let the cotton pass through
your hands, holding it very lightly, and at the same time keeping your
hands full of the wet powder; but, if the powder should be too wet
to stick to the cotton, put more in the pan, so as to keep a continual
supply till the match is all wound up; you may wind it as close on
the frame as you please, so that it do not stick together; when the
frame is full, take it off the points, and sift dry meal powder on both
sides of the match, till it appear quite dry: in winter the match will be
a fortnight before it is fit for use; when it is thoroughly dry, cut it
along the outside of one of the sides of the frame, and tie it up in skains
for use: the match must be wound tight on the frames. The ingre-
dients for the match are, cotton 1 lb. 12 oz. saltpetre 1 lb. spirits of wine
2 quarts, water 3 quarts, isinglass 3 gills, and meal powder 1 lb. To
dissolve 4 oz. of isinglass, take 3 pints of water.
мана
PYROTECHNY.
577

f
Touch-paper for capping of Serpents, Crackers &c.
Dissolve, in spirits of wine or vinegar, a little saltpetre; then take
some purple or blue paper, and wet it with this liquor, and when dry
it will be fit for use; when you paste this paper on any of your works,
take care that the paste does not touch that part which is to burn.
The method of using this paper is cutting it into slips, long enough to
go once round the mouth of a serpent, cracker, &c. When you paste on
these slips, leave a little above the mouth of the case not pasted; then
prime the case with meal powder, and twist the paper to a point.
Of Moulds, Cases, Mixture, Instruments, &c.
Rocket Moulds. As the performance of rockets depends much upon
their moulds, it is requisite to give a definition of them and their pro-
portions:-They are made and proportioned by the diameter of their
orifice, which are divided into parts.
The rammers should have a collar of brass at the bottom, to keep
the wood from spreading or splitting, and the same proportion must be
given to all moulds from 1 oz. to 6 lb. The handles of the rammers
should be equal to the bore of the mould, and 2 diameters long; but
the shorter you can use them the better; for the longer the drift, the
less will be the pressure on the composition by the blow given with
the mallet.

Dimensions for Rocket Moulds, if the Rockets are rammed solid.
Weight of Length of Moulds | Interior Diameter Height of the
Rockets. without their Feet. of the Moulds.
Nipples.

lb. oz.
6 0
4
0
2
0
1
0
0
8
0
4
0
2
0
0
1
12/0
6 drams
4 drams
Inches.
34,7
38,6
13,35
12,25
10,125
7,75
6,2
4,9
3,9
3,5
2,2
$
Inches.
3,5
2,9
2,1
1,7
1,333, &c.
1,125
0,9
0,7
0,55
0,5
0,3
Inches.
1,5
1,4
1,0
0,85
0,6
0,5
0,45
0,38
0,25
0,225
0,2
→
•
The diameter of the nipple must always be equal to that of the
former. Those who make rockets for private amusement, should not
ram them solid; for it requires a very skilful hand, and an expensive
apparatus for boring them. Driving of rockets solid is the most ex-
peditious method, but not so certain as ramming them over a piercer.
To roll Rockets and other Cases.-Sky-rocket cases are to be made
64 of their exterior diameter long; and all other cases that are to be
filled in moulds must be as long as the moulds,´ within half its inte-
rior diameter. Rocket cases, from the smallest to 4 or 6 lb. are gene-
rally made of the strongest sort of cartridge-paper, and rolled dry;
but the large sort are made of pasted pasteboard. As it is very diffi
cult to roll the ends of the cases quite even, the best way will be to
keep a pattern of the paper for the different sorts of cases; which pat
tern should be somewhat longer than the case it is designed for, and on
4 E
578
PYROTECHNY.
*
it marked the number of sheets required, which will prevent any pл-
per being cut to waste. Having cut your papers of a proper size, and
the last sheet for each case with a slope at one end, so that when the
cases are rolled it may form a spiral line round the outside, and that
this slope may always be the same, let the pattern be so cut for a
guide. Before you begin to roll, fold down one end of the first sheet so
far that the fold will go two or three times round the former: then, on
the double edge, lay the former with its handle off the table; and when
you have rolled on the paper within two or three turns, lay the next
sheet on that part which is loose, and roll it all on.
Having thus done, you must have a smooth board, about twenty
inches long, and equal in breadth to the length of the case. In the
middle of this board must be a handle placed lengthwise. Under this
board lay your case, and let one end of the board lie on the table; then
press hard on it, and push it forwards, which will roll the paper very
tight: do this three or four times before you roll on any more paper.
This must be repeated every other sheet of paper, till the case is thick
enough; but if the rolling board be drawn backwards, it will loosen
the
paper: you are to observe, when you roll on the last sheet, that
the point of the slope be placed at the small end of the roller. Hav-
ing rolled your case to fit the mould, push in the small end of the
former about 1 diameter from the end of the case, and put in the end-
piece within a little distance of the former; then give the pinching
chord one turn round the case, between the former and the end-piece;
at first pull easy, and keep moving the case, which will make the neck
smooth, and without large wrinkles. When the cases are hard tò
choak, let each sheet of paper (except the first and last, in that part
where the neck is formed) be a little moistened with water. Imme-
diately after you have struck the concave stroke, bind the neck of the
case round with small twine, which must not be tied in a knot, but
fastened with two or three hitches.

·
·
Having thus pinched and tied the case so as not to give way, put it
into the mould without its foot, and with a mallet drive the former
hard on the end-piece, which will force the neck close and smooth.
This done, cut the case to its proper length, allowing from the neck
to the edge of the mouth half a diameter, which is equal to the
height of the nipple; then take out the former, and drive the case
over the piercer with the long rammer, and the vent will be of a pro-
per size. Wheel-cases must be drove on a nipple with a point to
close the neck, and make the vent of the size required; which, in
most cases, is generally of their interior diameter. As it is of
ten difficult, when the cases are rolled, to draw the roller out, you may
make a hole through the handle, and put in it a small iron pin, by
which you may easily turn the former round and pull it out.
very
Cases are commonly rolled wet, for wheels and fixed pieces; and
when they are required to contain a great length of charge, the me-
thod of making those cases is thus: Your paper must be cut as usual,
only the last sheet must not be cut with a slope: having your paper
ready, paste each sheet on one side; then fold down the first sheet as
before directed: but be careful that the paste do not touch the upper
part of the fold; for, if the roller be wetted, it will tear the paper in
drawing it out. In pasting the last sheet, observe not to wet the last
turn or two in that part where it is to be pinched; for, if that part
*

•
PYKOTECHNY.
579
¿
be damp, the pinching cord will stick to it, and tear the paper; there-
fore, when you choak those cases, roll a bit of dry paper once round
the case, before you put on the pinching cord; but this bit of paper...
must be taken off after the case is choaked. The rolling board, and all
other methods, according to the former directions for the rolling and
pinching of cases, must be used to these as well as all other cases.
To make Tourbillon Cases.---Those sort of cases are generally made
about 8 diameters long; but if very large 7 will be sufficient: tour-
billons will answer very well from 4 oz. to 2 lb. but when larger there
is no certainty. The cases are best rolled wet with paste, and the last
sheet must have a straight edge, so that the case may be all of a thick-
ness: when you have rolled your cases after the manner of wheelcases,
pinch them at one end quite close; then with the rammer drive the
ends down flat, and afterwards ram in about of a diameter of dried
clay. The diameter of the former for these cases must be the same as
for sky-rockets. Tourbillons are to be rammed in moulds without a
nipple, or in a mould without its foot.
身
​Balloon Cases, or Paper Shells.-First you must have an oval former
turned of smooth wood; then paste a quantity of brown or cartridge
paper, and let it lie till the paste has quite soaked through; this done,
rub the former with soap or grease, to prevent the paper from sticking
to it; then lay the paper on in small slips, till you have made it of
the thickness of the shell intended. Having thus done, set it to dry
and, when dry, cut it round the middle, and the two halves will easily
come off: but observe, when you cut, to leave about 1 inch not cut,
which will make the halves join much better than if quite separated.
When you have some ready to join, place the halves even together,
paste a slip of paper round the opening to hold them together, and let
that dry; then lay on paper all over as before, everywhere equal, ´ex-
cepting that end which goes downwards in the mortar, which may be
a little thicker than the rest; for that part which receives the blow
from the powder in the chamber of the mortar consequently requires
the greatest strength. When the shell is thoroughly dry, burn a round
vent at top, with square iron, large enough for the fuze: this method
will do for balloous from 4 inches to 8 inches diameter; but if they
are larger, or required to be thrown a great height, let the first shell be
turned of elm, instead of being made of paper.
-
For a balloon of 4 inches, let the former be 3 inches diameter,
and 5½ inches long. For a balloon of 5 inches, the diameter of the
former must be 4 inches, and 8 inches long. For a balloon of 8 inches,
let the diameter of the former be 5 inches and 40, and 117 long. For
a 10-inch balloon, let the former be 7 diameter, and 14 inches
long. The thickness of a shell for a balloon of 4 inches must be
inch. For a balloon of 5 inches, let the thickness of the paper be §
of an inch. For an 8-inch balloon, of an inch. And for a 10-inchi
balloon, let the shell be 13 inch thick.
•
7.
+
!
>
f
Shells that are designed for stars only, may be made quite round,
and the thinner they are at the opening, the better; for if they are
too strong, the stars are apt to break at the bursting of the shell: when
you are making the shell, make use of a pair of calibres, or a round
gage, so that you may not lay the paper thicker in one place than an-
other; and also to know when the shell is of a proper thickness. Bal-
loons must always be made to go easy into the mortars.
7
The hig
1

580
PYROTECHNY.
Cases for illumination Port-fires.-These must be made very thin of
paper, and rolled on formers, from to of an inch diameter, and
from 2 to 6 inches long: they are pinched close at one end, and left
open at the other. When you fill them, put in but a little composition
at a time, and ram it in lightly, so as not to break the case: 3 or 4
rounds of paper, with the last round pasted, will be strong enough for
these cases.
Cases and Moulds for common Port-fires.-Common port-fires are in-
tended purposely to fire the works, their fire being very slow, and the
heat of the flame so intense, that, if applied to rockets, leaders, &c. it
will fire them immediately. Port-fires may be made of any length, but
are seldom made more than 21 inches long: the interior diameter of
port-fire moulds should be 10 of an inch, and the diameter of the
former an inch. The cases must be rolled wet with paste, and one
end pinched, or folded down. The moulds should be made of brass,
and to take in two pieces lengthwise; when the case is in the two sides,
they are held together by brass rings, or hoops, which are made to fit
over the outside. The bore of the mould must not be made quite
through, so that there will be no occasion for a foot. Those port-fires,
when used, are held in copper sockets, fixed on the end of a long
stick: these sockets are made like port-crayons, only with a screw in-
stead of a ring.
.

Of mixing the Compositions.-The performance of the principal part
of fire-works depends much on the compositions being well mixed;
therefore great care must be taken in this part of the work, particularly
for the composition for sky-rockets. When you have four or five pounds
of ingredients to mix, which is a sufficient quantity at a time (for a
larger proportion will not do so well), first put the different ingredients
together, then work them about with your hands, till you think they
are pretty well incorporated; after which put them into a lawn sieve
with a receiver and top to it; and if, after it is sifted, any remains that
will not pass through the sieve, grind it again till fine enough; and, if
it be twice sifted, it will not be amiss; but the compositions for wheels
and common works are not so material, nor need be so fine. But in
all fixed works, from which the fire is to play regular, the ingre-
dients must be very fine, and great care taken in mixing them well to-
gether; and observe, that in all compositions wherein are steel or iron
filings, the hands must not touch; nor will any works which have iron
or steel in their charge keep long in damp weather, unless properly pre-
pared, according to the following directions.
To preserve Steel or Iron Filings.-It sometimes may happen, that
fire-works may be required to be kept a long time, or sent abroad
neither of which could be done with brilliant fires, if made with filings
unprepared; for this reason, that the saltpetre being of a damp na-
ture, it causes the iron to rust; the consequence of which is, that,
when the works are fired, there will appear but very few brilliant sparks,
but instead of them a number of red and drossy sparks; and besides,
the charge will be so much weakened, that if this was to happen to
wheels, the fire will hardly be strong enough to force them round.
But, to prevent such accidents, prepare your filings thus:-Melt in a
glazed earthen pan some brimstone over a slow fire, and when melted
throw in some filings; which keep stirring about till they are covered
with brimstone; this you must do while it is on the fire; then take it

I


·
PYROTECHNY.
581
1
f
off, and stir it very quick till`cold, when you must roll it on a board
with a wooden roller, till you have broke it as fine as corn powder ; af-
ter which sift from it as much of the brimstone as you can. There is
another method of preparing filings, so as to keep two or three months
in winter; this may be done by rubbing them between the strongest
sort of brown paper, which before has been moistened with linseed oil.
If the brimstone should take fire, you may put it out, by covering the
pan close at top: it is not of much signification what quantity of brim-
stone you use, so that there is enough to give each grain of iron a coat;
but as much as will cover the bottom of a pan of about 1 foot diameter,
will do for 5 or 6 pound of filings, or cast-iron for gerbes.
To drive or ram Sky-rockets, &c.-Rockets drove over a piercer must
not have so much composition put in them at a time as when drove
solid; for the piercer, taking up a great part of the bore of the case,
would cause the rammer to rise too high; so that the pressure of it
would not be so great on the composition, nor would it be drove every-
where equal. To prevent this, observe the following rule:---For
those rockets which are rammed over a piercer, let the ladle hold as
much composition as, when drove, will raise the drift the interior dia-
meter of the case, and for those drove solid to contain as much as will
raise it the exterior diameter of the case: ladles are generally made
to go easyin the case, and the length of the scoop is about 1½ of its own
diameter.
1

The charge of rockets must always be drove 1 diameter above the
piercer, and on it must be rammed of a diameter of clay: through
the middle of which bore a small hole to the composition, that, when
the charge is burnt to the top, it may communicate its fire, through
the hole, to the stars in the head. Great care must be taken to strike
with the mallet, and with an equal force, the same number of strokes
to each ladleful of charge; otherwise the rockets will not rise with an
uniform motion, nor will the composition burn equal and regular: for
which reason they cannot carry a proper tail; for it will break before
the rocket has got half way up, instead of reaching from the ground
to the top, where the rocket breaks and disperses the stars, rains, or
whatever is contained in the head. When you are ramming, keep the
drift constantly turning or moving; and when you use the hollow
rammers, knock out of them the composition now and then, or the
piercer will split them. To a rocket of 4 oz. give to each ladle-full of
charge 16 strokes; to a rocket of 1 lb. 28; to a 2 pounder, 36; to a
4-pounder, 42; and to a 6-pounder, 56: but rockets of a larger sort
cannot be drove well by hand, but must be rammed with a machine
made in the same manner as those for driving piles.
!
The method of ramming of wheel-cases, or any other sort, in which
the charge is drove solid, is much the same as sky-rockets; for the
same proportion may be observed in the ladle, and the same number
of strokes given, according to their diameters, all cases being distin-
guished by their diameters. In this manner, a case, whose bore is equal
to a rocket of 4 oz. is called a 4-oz. case, and that which is equal to an
8-oz. rocket an 8-oz. case, and so on, according to the different rockets.
Having taught the method of ramming cases in moulds, we shall
here say something concerning those filled without moulds; which me-
thod, for strong pasted cases, will do extremely well, and save the ex-
pence of making so many moulds. The reader must here observe,
1
582
PYROTECHNY.
when he fills any sort of cases, to place the mould on a perpendicular
block of wood, and not on any place that is hollow; for we have found
by experience, that when cases were rammed on driving benches,
which were formerly used, the works frequently miscarried, on account
of the hollow resistance of the benches, which often jarred and loosen-
ed the charge in the cases; but this accident never happens when the
driving blocks are used.
When cases are to be filled without moulds, proceed thus: Have
some nipples made of brass or iron, of several sorts and sizes, in pro-
portion to the cases, and to screw or fix in the top of the driving block;
when you have fixed in a nipple, make, at about 11 inch from it, a
square hole in the block, six inches deep and one inch diameter; then
have a piece of wood, 6 inches longer than the case intended to be
filled, and 2 inches square; on one side of it cut a groove almost the
length of the case, whose breadth and depth must be sufficient to cover
near the case; then cut the other end to fit the hole in the block,
but take care to cut it so that the groove may be of a proper distance
from the nipple; this half-mould being made and fixed tight in the
block, cut, in another piece of wood nearly of the same length as the
case, a groove of the same dimensions as that in the fixed piece; then
put the case on the nipple, and with a cord tie it and the 2 half-moulds
together, and your case will be ready for filling.
The dimensions of the above-described half-moulds are proportion-
able for cases of 8 ounces; but notice must be taken, that they differ
in size in proportion to the cases. The clay, mentioned in this article,
must be prepared after this manner :-Get some clay, in which there is
no stones nor sand, and bake it in an oven till quite dry; then take it
out and beat it to a powder, and afterwards sift it through a common
hair-sieve, and it will be fit for use.
Proportion of Mallets.-The best wood for mallets is dry beech. If
a person uses a mallet of a moderate size, in proportion to the rocket,
according to his judgment, and if the rocket succeeds, he may depend
on the rest, by using the same mallet; yet it will be necessary that
cases of different sorts be drove with mallets of different sizes.
The following proportion of the mallets for rockets of any size,
from 1 oz. to 6 lb. may be observed; but as rockets are seldom made
less than 1 oz. or larger than 6 lb. we shall leave the management of
them to the curious; but all cases under 1 oz. may be rammed with
a 1 oz. rocket-mallet. Your mallets will strike more solid, by having
their handles turned out of the same piece as the head, and made in a
cylindrical form. Let their dimensions be worked by the diameters of
the rockets: for example, let the thickness of the head be 3 diameters,
and its length 4, and the length of the handle 5 diameters, whose thick-
ness must be in proportion to the hand.
X, it
Manner of heading Rockets. When the collar is to be glued on the
rocket, you must cut two or three rounds of paper off the case, which
wil make a shoulder for it to rest upon. Two or three rounds of pa-
per well pasted will be enough for the head, which, when rolled, put
the collar on, which must fit the inside of it; then, with the pinching
cord pinch the bottom of the head into the groove, and tie it with small
twine. To make the caps, cut your paper in round piaces, equal in
diameter to twice the length of the cone you intend to make; which
pieces being cut into halves, will make two caps each, without wasting
1
•
t
1
•
PYROTECHNY.
583
}
{
any paper; having formed the caps, paste over each of them a thin
white paper, which must be a little longer than the cone, so as to pro-
ject about an inch below the bottom: this projection of paper, being
notched and pasted, serves to fasten the cap to the head.
When you load the heads of your rockets, with stars, rains, serpents,
crackers, scrolls, or any thing else, according to your fancy, remember
always to put 1 ladleful of meal powder into each head, which will be
enough to burst the head, and disperse the stars, or whatever it con-
tains: when the heads are loaded with any sort of cases, let their
mouths be placed downwards; and after the heads are filled, paste on
the top of them a piece of paper, before you put on the caps. As the
size of the stars often differ, it would be needless to give an exact num-
ber for each rocket; but this rule may be observed, that the heads may
be nearly filled with whatever they are loaded.
Decorations for Sky-rockets.-Sky-rockets bearing the pre-eminence
of all fire-works, it will not be improper to treat of their various kinds
of decorations, which are directed according to fancy. Some are headed
with stars of different sorts, such as tailed, brilliant, white, blue, and
yellow stars, &c. some with gold and silver rain; others with serpents,
crackers, firescrolls, marrons; and some with small rockets, and many
other devices, as the maker pleases.
Dimensions and Poise of Rocket-Sticks.
Square at
bottom.
Weight of Length of the Thickness at Breadth at
the rocket. stick.
top.
top.
lb. oz. F. in. Inches.
60
14 O
12 10
9 4
8 2
6 6
5 3
4 0
2 .0
1
0
O QA
2
1
1
HIGHH
4 1
3 6
2 4
1 10/1/20
*


1,5
1,25
1,125
0,725
0,5
0,3750
0,3
0,25
0,125
0,1
¿
Inches.
1,85
1,40
1,
0,80
0,70
0,55
0,45
0,35
0,20
0,15
Inches.
0,75
0,625
0,525
0,375
0,25
9,35
0,15
0,10
0,16
0,5
Poise from the point of,
F + on Of Op you el proced
F.
4
3
2
2
1
1
the Cone.
1
3

10
8
5
in.
1,5
9,
9,
1,
10,4
8,5
3,
0,
0,
0,5
2
}
The last column on the right, in the above table, expresses the dis
tance from the top of the cone, where the stick, when tied on, should
balance the rocket, so as to stand in an equlibrium on one's finger or
the edge of a knife. The best wood for the sticks is dry deal, made
thus: When you have cut and planed the sticks according to the di-
mensions given in the table, cut, on one of the flat sides at the top, a
groove the length of the rocket, and as broad as the stick will allow;
then, on the opposite flat side, cut two notches for the cord, which ties
on the rocket, to lie in; one of these notches must be near the top of
the stick, and the other facing the neck of the rockets; the distance
between these notches may easily be known, for the top of the stick
should always touch the head of the rocket. When your rockets and
sticks are ready, lay the rockets in the grooves in the sticks, and tie
them on. Those who, merely for curiosity, may choose to make rockets
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FYROTECHNY.
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of different sizes from those expressed in the table of dimensions, may
find the length of their sticks, by making them, for rockets from oz.
to 1 lb. 60 diameters of the rocket long; and for rockets above 1 lb.
50 or 52 diameters will be a good length; their thickness at top may
be about a diameter, and their breadth a very little more; their
square at bottom is generally equal to the thickness at the top. But,
although the dimensions of the sticks be very nicely observed, you
must depend only on their balance; for, without a proper counterpoise,
your rockets, instead of mounting perpendicularly, will take an oblique
direction, and fall to the ground before they are burnt out.
To load Air-Balloons; with the number of Stars, Serpents, Snakes,
Rain-Falls, &c. in shells of each nature.
Mortars to throw Aigrettes, &c.-When you fill your shells, you must
first put in the serpents, rains, stars, &c. or whatever they are com-
posed of; then the blowing powder; but the shells must not be quite
filled. All those things must be put in at the fuze hole; but mar-
rons, being too large to go in at the fuze hole, must be put in be-
fore the inside shell be joined. When the shells are loaded, glue and
drive in the fuzes very tight. For a cohorn balloon, let the diameter
of the fuze hole be of an inch; for a royal balloon, which is near
5 inches diameter, make the fuze hole 1 inch diameter; for an 8
inch balloon, 1 inch; and for a 10-inch balloon, 1½ inch.
.
Air-balloons are divided into 4 sorts; viz. first, illuminated balloons;
second, balloons of serpents; third, balloons of reports, marrons, and
crackers; and fourth, compound balloons. The number and quantities
of each article for the different shells are as follow:
A
Cohorn Balloons illuminated.—Meal powder one ounce and a half;
corn powder half an ounce; powder for the mortar, two ounces.
Length of the fuze composition, of an inch; one ounce drove or
rolled stars, as many as will nearly fill the shell.
3
4
Cohorn Balloon of Serpents.-Meal powder one ounce and a quarter ;
corn powder one ounce; powder for the mortar two ounces and a
quarter. Length of the fuze composition of an inch: half-ounce
cases drove 3 diameters and bounced 3 diameters, and half-ounce cases
drove 2 diameters and bounced 4, of each an equal quantity, and as
many of them as will fit in easily placed head to tail.
16
Cohorn Balloons of Crackers and Reports.-Meal powder one ounce
and a quarter; corn powder, three quarters of an ounce; powder for
the mortar two ounces. Length of the fuze composition of an inch.
Reports 4, and crackers of 6 bounces as many as will fill the shell.
Compound Cohorn Balloons-Meal powder one ounce and four
drams; corn powder twelve drams; powder for the mortar two ounces
and four drams. Length of the fuze composition of an inch:
ounce cases drove 34 diameters and bounced 2, 16; ounce cases drove
four diameters and not bounced 10; blue strung stars, 10; rolled stars,
as many as will complete the balloon.
16
Royal Balloons illuminated.-Meal powder one ounce and eight
drams; corn powder twelve drams; powder for the mortar three
ounces. Length of the fuze composition 18 of an inch; 2 ounce
strung stars, 34; rolled stars, as many as the shell will contain, al-
lowing room for the fuze.
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PYROTECHNY
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Royal Balloons of Serpents.--Meal powder one ounce; corn powder
one ounce and eight drams; powder for the mortar three ounces and
eight drams. Length of the fuze composition 1 inch; 1 ounce cases
drove 3 and 4 diameters, and bounced 2, of each an equal quantity,
sufficient to load the shell.
Colw2/1
Royal Balloons with Crackers and Marrons.-Meal powder one ounce
and eight drams; corn powder one ounce and four drams; powder for
firing the mortar three ounces. Length of the fuze composition 1 of
an inch; reports 12, and completed with crackers of 8 bounces.
16
Compound Royal Balloons.-Meal powder one ounce and five drams;
corn powder one ounce and six drams; powder for the mortar three
ounces and twelvè drams. Length of the fuze composition 1 inch :
ounce cases drove and bounced 2 diameters, 8; 2 ounce cases filled
of an inch with star composition, and bounced 2 diameters, 8; silver
rain-falls, 10; 2 ounce tailed stars, 16; rolled brilliant stars, 30.
this should not be sufficient to load the shell, you may complete it
with gold rain-falls.
If
Eight-Inch Balloons illuminated.-Meal powder two ounces and eight
drams; corn powder one ounce and four drams; powder for the mortar
nine ounces. Length of the fuze composition 1 inch : 2 ounce drove
stars, 48; 2 ounce cases drove with star composition of an inch,
and bounced 3 diameters, 12; and the balloon completed with 2 ounce
drove brilliant stars.

3
16
Eight-Inch Balloons of Serpents.--Meal powder two ounces; corn
powder two ounces; powder for the mortar nine ounces and eight
drams. Length of the fuze composition 1 inch : 2 ounce cases
drove 1 diameter and bounced 2, and 1 ounce cases drove 2 diame-
ters and bounced 21, of each an equal quantity sufficient for the shell.
The star-composition driven in bounced cases must be managed thus:
First, the cases must be pinched close at one end, then the corn-pow-
der put in for a report, and the case pinched again close to the pow-
der, only leaving a small vent for the star composition, which is drove
at top, to communicate to the powder at the bounce end.
Compound Eight-Inch Balloons.-Meal powder two ounces and eight
drams; corn powder one ounce and twelve drams; powder for the
mortar nine ounces and four drams. Length of the fuze composi-
tion : 4 ounce cases drove with star composition & of an inch, and
bounced 3 diameters, 16; 2 ounce tailed stars, 16; 2 ounce drove-
brilliant stars, 12; silver rain-falls, 20; 1 ounce drove blue stars, 20;
and 1 ounce cases drove and bounced 2 diameters, as many as will fill
the shell.
Another of Eight-Inches.-Meal powder two ounces and eight drams;
corn powder one ounce and twelve drams; powder for the mortar nine
ounces and four drams. Length of the fuze composition 1 inch :
crackers of 6 reports, 10; gold rains, 14; 2 ounce cases drove with
star composition of an inch, and bounced 2 diameters, 16; 2 ounce
o B
tailed stars, 16; 2 ounce drove brilliant stars, 12; silver rains, 10;
1 ounce drove blue stars, 20; and 1 ounce cases drove with a bril-
liant charge 2 diameters and bounced 3, as many as the shell will hold.
powder three ounces and four
eight drams; powder for the
Length of the fuze composi-
A Compound Ten-Inch Balloon.—Meal
drams; corn powder two ounces and
mortar twelve ounces and eight drams.
tion 15 of an inch: 1 ounce cases drove and bounced 3 diameters, 16;
16
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586
PYROTECHNY.
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Crackers of 8 reports, 12; 4 ounce cases drove 4 inch with star-com-
position, and bounced 2 diameters, 14; 2 ounce cases drove with bril-
liant fire 1 diameter, and bounced 2 diameters, 16: 2 ounce drove
brilliant stars, 30: 2 ounce drove blue stars, 3; gold rains, 20; silver
rains, 20. After all these are put in, fill the remainder of the case with
tailed and rolled stars.
‣
Ten-Inch Balloons of three Charges.-Meal powder three ounces; corn
powder three ounces and two drams; powder for the mortar thirteen
ounces. Length of the fuze composition 1 inch. The shell must be
loaded with 2 ounce cases, drove with star composition of an inch,
and on that 1 diameter of gold fire, then bounced 3 diameters; or
with 2 ounce cases first filled 1 diameter with gold fire, then of an
inch with star composition, and on that 14 diameter of brilliant fire.
These cases must be well secured at top of the charge, lest they should
take fire at both ends: but their necks must be larger than the com-
mon proportion.
:

..
To make Balloon Fuzes.-Fuzes for air-balloons are sometimes turned
out of dry beach, with a cup at top to hold the quick-match; but, if
made with pasted paper, they will do as well; the diameter of the
former for fuzes for cohorn balloons must be half an inch; for a royal
fuze five-eighths of an inch; for an eight-inch fuze three-fourths of an
inch; and for a ten-inch fuze, seven-eighths of an inch. Having rolled
your cases, pinch and tie them almost close at one end; then drive
them down, and let them dry. Before you begin to fill them, mark
on the outside of the case the length of the charge required; allowing
for the thickness of the bottom; and when you have rammed in the
composition, take two pieces of quick-match about six inches long, and
lay one end of each on the charge, and then a little meal powder, which
ram down hard; the loose ends of the match double up into the top
of the fuze, and cover it with a paper cap to keep it dry. When you
put the shells in the mortars uncap the fuzes, and pull out the loose
ends of the match, and let them hang on the sides of the balloons.
The use of the match is to receive the fire from the powder in the
chamber of the mortar, in order to light the fuze; the shell being put
in the mortar with the fuze uppermost, and exactly in the centre,
sprinkle over it a little meal-powder, and it will be ready to be fired.
Fuzes made of wood must be longer than those of paper, and not bored
quite through, but left solid about half an inch at bottom: and when
you use them, saw them off to a proper length, measuring the charge
from the cup at top.

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Tourbillons.-Having filled some cases within about 1 diameter,
drive in a ladleful of clay; then pinch their ends close, and drive
them down with a mallet. When done, find the centre of gravity of
of the connected cases, and tie a stick, which should be half an
inch broad at the middle, and run a little narrower to the ends: these
sticks must have their ends turned upwards, so that the cases may
turn horizontally on their centres; at the opposite sides of the cases,
at each end, bore a hole close to the clay with a gimblet, the size of
the neck of a common case of the same nature; from these holes draw
a line round the case, and at the upper part of the case bore a hole
with the same gimblet, within half diameter of each line towards the
centre; then from one hole to the other draw a right line, and bore
two holes; then from these holes to the other two lead a quick-match,
PYROTECHNY.
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over which paste a thin paper. When you fire tourbillons, lay them
on a smooth table, with their sticks downwards, and burn the leader
through the middle with a port-fire. They should spin three or four:
seconds on the table before they rise, which is about the time the com-
position will be burning from the side holes to those at bottom. To
tourbillons may be fixed reports in this manner: In the centre of the
case at top make a small hole, and in the middle of the report make
another; then place them together, and tie on the report, and with a
single paper secure it from fire: this done, your tourbillon is com-
pleted. By this method you may fix on tourbillons small cones of
stars, rains, &c. but be careful not to load them too much. One-eighth
of an inch will be enough for the thickness of the sticks, and their
length equal to that of the cases.
To make Mortars to throw Aigrettes, and to load and fire them.-Mor-
tars to throw aigrettes are generally made of pasteboard, of the same
thickness as balloon mortars, and 2 diameters long in the inside from
the top of the foot: the foot must be made of elm without a chamber,
but flat at top, and in the same proportion as those for balloon mortars;
these mortars must also be bound round with a cord as before men-
tioned: sometimes eight or nine of these mortars, of about three or
four inches diameter, are bound altogether so as to appear but one:
but when they are made for this purpose, the bottom of the foot must
be of the same diameter as the mortars, and only diameter high.-
Your mortars being bound well together, fix them on a heavy solid
block of wood. To load these mortars, first put on the inside bottom
of each a piece of paper, and on it spread 1 oz. of meal and corn
powder mixed; then tie your serpents up in parcels with quick-match,
and put them in the mortar with their mouths downwards; but takę
care the parcels do not fit too tight in the mortars, and that all the ser-
pents have been well primed with powder wetted with spirits of wine.
On the top of the serpents in each mortar lay some paper or tow; then
carry a leader from one mortar to the other all round, and then from
all the outside mortars into that in the middle. These leaders must
be put between the cases and the sides of the mortar, down to the pow-
der at bottom: in the centre of the middle mortar fix a fire-pump, or
brilliant fountain, which must be open at bottom, and long enough
to project out of the mouth of the mortar; then paste paper on the
tops of all the mortars.
When you
Mortars thus prepared are called a nest of serpents.
would fire these mortars, light the fire-pump, which, when consumed,
will communicate to all the mortars at once by means of the leaders.
For mortars of 6, 8, or 10 inches diameter, the serpents should be
made in 1 and 2 ounce cases, 6 or 7 inches long, and fired by a leader
brought out of the mouth of the mortar, and turned down the outside,
and the end of it covered with paper, to prevent the sparks of the
other works from setting it on fire. For a six-inch mortar, let the
quantity of powder for firing be 2 oz. for an eight-inch 23 oz, and for
a ten-inch 33 oz. Care must be taken in these as well as small mor-
tars, not to put the serpents in too tight, for fear of bursting the mortars.
These serpents may be loaded with stars, crackers, &c.
If the mortars, when loaded, are sent to any distance, or liable to
be much moved, the firing powder should be secured from getting
amongst the serpents, which would endanger the mortars, as well as
,
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588
PYROTECHNY.
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hurt their performance. To prevent which, load your mortars thus :—
First put in the firing powder, and spread it equally about; then cut
a round piece of blue touch-paper, equal to the exterior diameter of
the mortar, and draw on it a circle equal to the interior diameter of
the mortar, and notch it all round as far as that circle; then paste that
part which is notched, and put it down the mortar close to the pow-
der, and stick the pasted edge to the mortar: this will keep the pow-
der always smooth at bottom, so that it may be moved or carried any-
where without receiving damage. The large single mortars are called
pots des aigrettes.
Making, loading, and firing of Pots des Brins.-These are formed of
pasteboard, and must be rolled pretty thick. They are usually made
three or four inches diameter, and four diameters long and pinched
with a neck at one end, like common cases. A number of these are
placed on a plank thus: Having fixed on a plank two rows of wooden
pegs, cut in the bottom of the plank a groove the whole length under
each row of pegs; then, through the centre of each peg, hore a hole
down to the groove at bottom, and on every peg fix and glue a pot,
whose mouth must fit tight to the peg: through all the holes run a
quick-match, one end of which must go into the pot, and the other
into the groove, which must have a match laid in it from end to end,
and covered with paper, so that when lighted at one end it may dis-
charge the whole almost instantaneously In all the pots put about
1 oz. of meal and corn powder; then in some put stars, and in others
rains, snakes, serpents, crackers, &c. when they are all loaded, paste
paper over their mouths. Two or three hundred of these pots being
fired together make a very pretty show, by affording so great a variety
of fires.
1
4
Pols des Saucissons are generally fired out of large mortars without
chambers, the same as those for aigrettes, only somewhat stronger. Sau-
cissons are made of 1 and 2 ounce cases, 5 or 6 inches long, and
choaked in the same manner as serpents. Half the number which the
mortar contains must be drove 14 diameter with composition, and the
other half 2 diameters, so that when fired they may give 2 volleys of
reports. But if the mortars are very strong, and will bear a sufficient
charge to throw the saucissons very high, you may make 3 volleys of
reports, by dividing the number of cases into 3 parts, and making a
difference in the height of the charge. After they are filled, pinch and
tie them at top of the charge almost close; only leaving a small vent to
communicate the fire to the upper part of the case, which must be
filled with corn powder very near the top; then pinch the end quite
close, and tie it: after this is done, bind the case very tight with
waxed pack-thread, from the choak at top of the composition to the
end of the case; this will make the case very strong in that part, and
cause the report to be very loud. Saucissons should be rolled a little
thicker of paper than the common proportion. When they are to be
put in the mortar, they must be primed in their mouths, and fired by
a case of brilliant fire fixed in their centre. The charge for these
mortars should be one-sixth or one-eighth more than for pots des
aigrettes of the same diameters,
+
Different Kinds of Rockets, with their Appendages and Combinations.
To fix one Rocket on the top of another.When sky-rockets are thus
managed, they are called towering rockets, on acounting of their mount-
PYROTECHNY.
589
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ing so very high. Towering rockets are made after this manner :-
Fix on a pound-rocket a head without a collar; then take a 4-ounce
rocket, which may be headed or bounced, and rub the mouth of it
with meal powder wetted with spirits of wine: when done, put it in
the head of the large rocket with its mouth downwards; but before
you put it in, stick a bit of quick-match in the hole of the clay of the
pound rocket, which match should be long enough to go a little way
up the bore of the small rocket, to fire it when the large is burnt out;
the 4-ounce rocket being too small to fill the head of the other, roll
round it as much tow as will make it stand upright in the centre of
the head: the rocket being thus fixed, paste a single paper round the
opening of the top of the head of the large rocket. The large rocket
must have only half a diameter of charge rammed above the piercer;
for, if filled to the usual height, it would turn before the small one
takes fire, and entirely destroy the intended effect: when one rocket
is heated with another, there will be no occasion for any blowing pow-
der; for the force with which it sets off will be sufficient to disengage
it from the head of the first fired rocket. The sticks for these rockets
must be a little longer than for those headed with stars, rains, &c.
Caduceus Rockets, in rising, form too spiral lines, or double worm,
by reason of their being placed obliquely, one opposite the other; and
their counterpoise in their centre, which causes them to rise in a ver-
tical direction. Rockets for this purpose must have their ends choak-
ed close, without either head or bounce, for a weight at top would be
a great obstruction to their mounting; though I have known them
sometimes to be bounced, but then they did not rise so high as those
that were not; nor do any caduceus rockets ascend so high as single,
because of their serpentine motion, and likewise the resistance of air,
which is much greater than two rockets of the same size would meet
with if fired singly.
For fixing these rockets the sticks must have all their sides alike,
which sides should be equal to the breadth of a stick proper for a sky-
rocket of the same weight as those you intend to use, and to taper
downwards as usual, long enough to balance them, one length of a rocket
from the cross stick; which must be placed from the large stick 6 dia-
meters of one of the rockets, and its length 7 diameters; so that each
rocket, when tied on, may form with the large stick an angle of 60
degrees. In tying on the rockets, place their heads on the opposite
sides of the cross stick, and their ends on the opposite sides of the long
stick; then carry a leader from the mouth of one into that of the other.
When these rockets are to be fired, suspend them between two hooks or
nails, then burn the leader through the middle, and both will take fire
at the same time. Rockets of 1 lb. are a good size for this use..
Honorary Rockets are the same as sky-rockets, except that they carry
no head nor report, but are closed at top, on which is fixed a cone; then
on the case, close to the top of the stick, you tie on a 2-ounce case,
about 5 or 6 inches long, filled with a strong charge, aud pinched close
at both ends; then, in the reverse sides, at each end bore a hole in
the same manner as in tourbillons; from each hole carry a leader into
the top of the rocket. When the rocket is fired, and arrived to it pro-
per height, it will give fire to the case at top; which will cause both
rocket and stick to spin very fast in their return, and represent a worm of
fire descending to the ground. There is another method of placing the
590
PYROTECHNY.
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small case, which is by letting the stick rise a little above the top of
the rocket, and tying the case to it; so as to rest on the rocket: these
rockets have no cones. There is also a third method by which they
are managed, which is thus:In the top of a rocket fix a piece of
wood, in which drive a small iron spindle: then make a hole in the
middle of the small case, through which put the spindle: then fix on
the top of it a nut, to keep the case from falling off; when this is done,
the case will turn very fast without the rocket; but this method does
not answer so well as either of the former.

To divide the Tail of a Sky-Rocket so as to form an Arch when as-
cending.-Having some rockets made, and headed according to fancy,
and tied on their sticks; get some sheet tin, and cut it into round
pieces about 3 or 4 inches diameter; then on the stick of each rocket,
under the mouth of the case, fix one of these pieces of tin 16 inches
from the rocket's neck, and support it by a wooden bracket, as strong
as possible. The use of this is, that when the rocket is ascending, the
fire will play with great force on the tin, which will divide the tail in
such a manner that it will form an arch as it mounts, and will have a
very good effect when well managed: if there is a short piece of port-
fire, of a strong charge, tied to the end of the stick, it will make a great
addition but this must be lighted before you fire the rocket.
4
To make several Sky-Rockets rise. in the same Direction, and equally
distant from each other. Take six or any number of sky-rockets, of
what size you please, then cut some strong packthread into pieces of 3
or 4 yards long, and tie each end of these pieces to a rocket in this
mammer: Having tied one end of your packthread round the body of
one rocket, and the other end to another, take a second piece of pack-
thread, and make one end of it fast to one of the rockets already tied,
and the other end to a third rocket, so that all the rockets, excepting
the two outside, will be fastened to two pieces of packthread: the
length of thread from one rocket to the other may be what the maker
pleases; but the rockets must be all of a size, and their heads filled
with the same weight of stars, rains, &c.
ን
•
:
·
Having thus done, fix in the mouth of each rocket a leader of the
same length; and when you are going to fire them, hang them almost
close; then tie the ends of the leaders together, and prime them: this
prime being fired, all the rockets will mount at the same time, and di-
vide as far as the strings will allow; which division they will keep,
provided they are all rammed alike, and well made. They are called
by some chained rockets.
1
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Signal Sky-Rockets are made of several kinds, according to the diffe-
rent signals intended to be given; but in artificial fire-works, two sorts
are only used, which are one with reports and the other without; but
those for the use of the navy and army are headed with stars, serpents,
&c. Rockets which are to be bounced, must have their cases made 1
or 2 diameters longer than the common proportion; and after they are
filled, drive in a double quantity of clay, then bounce and pinch them
after the usual manner, and fix on each a cap.
Signal sky-rockets without bounces, are only sky-rockets closed and
capped: these are very light, therefore do not require such heavy
sticks as those with loaded heads; for which reason you may cut one
length of the rocket off the stick, or else make them thinner. Signal
4
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PYROTECHNY.
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rockets with reports are fired in small flights; and often both thesc,
and those without reports are used for a signal to begin firing a col-
lection of works...
To fix a Sky-Rocket with its Stick on the top of another.-Rockets
thus managed make a pretty appearance by reason of a fresh tail be-
ing seen when the second rocket takes fire, which will mount to a
great height. The method of preparing these rockets is thus:--
Having filled a two-pounder, which must be filled only half a diameter
above the piercer, and its head not more than ten or twelve stars; the
stick of this rocket must be made a little, thicker than common; and,
when made, cut it in half the flat way, and in each half make a groove,
so that when the two halves are joined, the hollow made by the grooves
may be large enough to hold the stick of a half-pound rocket: which
rocket make and head as usual. Put the stick of this rocket into the
hollow of the large one, so far that the mouth of the rocket may rest
on the head of the two-pounder; from whose head carry a leader into
the mouth of the small rocket; which being done, your rockets will
be ready for firing.
1
:
F
To fix two or more Sky-Rockets on ong Stick-Two, three, or six sky-
rockets, fixed on one stick, and fired together, make a grand and beau-
tiful appearance; for the tails of all will seem but as one of an im-
mense size, and the breaking of so many heads at once will resemble
the bursting of an air-balloon. The management of this device re-
quires a skilful hand; but if the following instructions be well ob-
served, even by those who have not made a great progress in this art,
there will be no doubt of the rockets having the desired effect.-
Rockets for this purpose must be made with the greatest exactness, all
rammed by the same hand, in the same mould, and out of the same
proportion of composition; and after they are filled and headed, must
all be of the same weight. The stick must also be well made and pro-
portioned to the following directions-First, supposing your rockets
to be half-pounders, whose sticks are 6 feet 6 inches long, then if 2, 3,
or 6 of these, are to be fixed on one stick, let the length of it be 9 feet 9
inches; then cut the top of it into as many sides as there are rockets,
and let the length of each side be equal to the length of one of the
rockets without its head; and in each side cut a groove as usual; then
from the grooves plane it round down to the bottom, where its thick-
ness must be equal to half the top of the round part. As their thick-
ness cannot be exactly ascertained, we shall give a rule which gene-
rally answers for any number of rockets above two. The rule is this:
that the stick at top must be thick enough, when the grooves are cut,
for all the rockets to lie, without pressing each other, though as near
as possible...
When only 2 rockets are to be fixed on 1 stick, let the length of
the stick be the last given proportion, but shaped after the common
method, and the breadth and thickness double the usual dimensions.
The point of poise must be in the usual place (let the number of rockets
be what they will). If sticks made by the above directions should be
too heavy, plane them thinner; and, if too light, make them thicker;
but always make them of the same length.
24 19
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4
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When more than, 2 rockets are tied on 1 stick, there will be some
danger of their flying up without the stick, unless the following pre-
caution is taken: for cases being placed on all sides, there can be no

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592
PYROTECHNY.
notches for the cord which ties on the rocket to lie in; therefore, in-
stead of notches, drive a small nail in each side of the stick, between
the necks of the cases; and let the cord, which goes round their necks,
be brought close under the nails: by this means the rockets will be
as secure as when tied on singly. Your rockets being thus fixed, carry
a quick-match, without a pipe, from the mouth of one rocket to the
other; this match being lighted will give fire to all at once.
Though the directions already given may be sufficient for these
rockets, we shall here add an improvement on a very essential part of
this device, which is that of hanging the rockets to be fired; for before
the following method was hit upon, many essays proved unsuccessful.
Instead, therefore, of the old and common manner of hanging them on
nails or hooks, make use of this contrivance: Have a ring made of
strong iron wire, large enough for the stick to go in as far as the mouths
of the rockets; then let this ring be supported by a small iron, at
some distance from the post or stand to which it is fixed; then have
another ring, fit to receive and guide the small end of the stick. Rockets
thus suspended will have nothing to obstruct their fire; but when they
are hung on nails or hooks, in such a manner that some of their mouths
are against or upon a rail, there can be no certainty of their rising in
a vertical direction,
To fire Sky-Rockets without Sticks.-You must have a stand of a
block of wood, a foot diameter, and make the bottom flat, so that it
may stand steady: in the centre of the top of this block draw a circle
24 inches diameter, and divide the circumference of it into 3 equal
parts; then take 3 pieces of thick iron wire, each about 3 feet long,
and drive them into the block, 1 at each point made on the circle;
when these wires are drove in deep enough to hold them fast and up-
right, so that the distance from one to the other is the same at top as
at bottom, the stand is complete.
The stand being thus made, prepare your rockets thus: Take some
common sky-rockets of any size, and head them as you please; then
get some balls of lead, and tie to each a small wire 2 or 2 feet long,
and the other end of each wire tie to the neck of a rocket. These balls
answer the purpose of sticks when made of a proper weight, which is
about two-thirds the weight of the rocket; but when they are of a pro-
per size, they will balance the rocket in the same manner as a stick
at the usual point of poise. To fire these, hang them, one at a time,
between the tops of the wires, letting their heads rest on the point of
the wires, and the balls hang down between them: if the wires should
be too wide for the rockets, press them together till they fit; and if
too close force them open; the wires for this purpose must be softened,
so as not to have any spring, or they will not keep their position when
Rain-falls and Stars for Sky-Rockets, double and single.-Gold and
silver-rain compositions are drove in cases that are pinched quite close
at one end; if you roll them dry, 4 or 5 rounds of paper will be strong
enough; but if they are pasted 3 rounds will do; and the thin sort of
cartridge-paper is best for those small cases, which in rolling you must
not turn down the inside edge as in other cases, for a double edge
would be too thick for so small a bore. The moulds for rain-falls
should be made of brass, and turned very smooth in the inside; or
the cases, which are so very thin, would tear in coming out; for the
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PYROTECHNY.
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charge must be drove in tight; and the better the case fits the mould,
tae more driving it will bear. These moulds have no nipple, but in-
stead thereof they are made flat. As it would be very tedious and
troublesome to shake the composition out of such small ladles as are
used for these cases, it will be necessary to have a funnel made of thin
tin, to fit on the top of the case, by the help of which you may fill
them very fast. For single rain-falls for 4-ounce rockets, let the dia-
meter of the former be two-sixteenths of an inch, and the length of the
case 2 inches; for 8-ounce rockets four-sixteenths, and 2 diameters
of the rocket long; for 1-pound rockets five-sixteenths, and 2 diame-
ters of the rocket long; for 2-pound rockets five-sixteenths, and 34
inches long; for 4-pound rockets six-sixteenths, and 4 inches long;
and for 6-pounders seven-sixteenths diameter, and 5 inches long.

Of double rain-falls there are two sorts: for example, some appear
first like a star, and then as rain; and some appear first as rain, and
then like a star. When you would have stars first, you must fill the
cases, within an inch of the top, with rain-composition, and the re-
mainder with star-composition; but when you intend the rain should
be first, drive the case an inch with star-composition, and the rest
with rain. By this method may be made many changes of fire; for
in large rockets you may make them first burn as stars, then rain, and
again as stars; or they may first show rain, then stars, and finish with
a report; but when they are thus managed, cut open the first rammed
end, after they are filled and bounced, at which place prime them.
The star-composition for this purpose must be a little stronger than for
rolled stars.
t
Strung Stars-First take some thin paper, and cut it into pieces of
14 inch square or thereabouts; then on each piece lay as much dry
star-composition as you think the paper will easily contain; then twist
up the paper as tight as you can; when done, rub some paste on
your hands, and roll the stars between them; then set them to dry.
Your stars being thus made, get some flax or fine tow, and roll a lit-
tle of it over each star; then paste your hands, and roll the stars as be-
fore, and set them again to dry. When they are quite dry, with a
piercer make a hole through the middle of each, into which run a cot-
ton quick-match, long enough to hold 10 or 12 stars, at 3 or 4 inches
distance; but any number of stars may be strung together by joining
the match.
Tailed Stars.-These are called tailed stars, because there are a great
number of sparks issue from them, which represent a tail like that of
a comet. Of these there are two sorts, which are rolled and drove :
when rolled, they must be moistened with a liquor made of a pint
of spirits of wine and a gill of thin size: of this as much as will wet
the composition enough to make it roll easy; when they are rolled,
sift meal powder over them, and set them to dry. When tailed stars
are drove, the composition must be moistened with spirits of wine
only, and not made wet as for rolling: 1 and 2 oz. cases, rolled dry,
are best for this purpose; and when they are filled, unrol the case
within 3 or 4 rounds of the charge, and all that you unrol cut off; then
paste down the loose edge: 2 or 3 days after the cases are filled, cut
them in pieces five or six-eighths of an inch in length: then melt
some wax, and dip one end of each piece into it, so as to cover the
G
I
594
PYROTECHNY.
composition: the other end must be rubbed with meal powder wetted
with spirits of wine.
Drove Stars.-Cases for drove stars are rolled with paste, but are
made very thin of paper. Before you begin to fill them, damp the
composition with spirits of wine that has had some camphor dissolved
in it: you may ram them indifferently hard, so that you do not break
or sack the case; to prevent which, they should fit tight in the mould.
They are drove in cases of several sizes, from 8 drams to 4 oz. When
they are filled in oz. cases, cut them in pieces of of an inch long;
oo
if 1 oz. cases, cut them in pieces of 1 inch; if 2-ounce cases, cut them
in pieces of 14 inch long; and if 4 oz. cases, cut them in pieces of 14
inch long: having cut your stars of a proper size, prime both ends
with wet meal powder. These stars are seldom put in rockets, they
being chiefly intended for air-balloons, and drove in cases, to prevent
the composition from being broke by the force of the blowing powder
in the shell.
Rolling Stars are commonly made about the size of a musket ball;
though they are rolled of several sizes, from the bigness of a pistol
ball to one inch diameter; and sometimes very small, but are then called
sparks. Great care must be taken in making stars, first, that the se-
veral ingredients are reduced to a fine powder; secondly, that the com-
position is well worked and mixed. Before you begin to roll, take
about a pound of composition, and wet it with the following liquid
enough to make it stick together and roll easy: Spirits of wine 1 quart,
in which dissolve of an ounce of isinglass. If a great quantity of
composition be wetted at once, the spirit will evaporate, and leave it
dry, before you can roll it into stars. Having rolled up one proportion,
shake the stars in meal powder, and set them to dry, which they will
do in 3 or 4 days; but if you should want them for immediate use,
dry them in an earthen pan over a slow heat, or in an oven. It is
very difficult to make the stars all of an equal size when the composi-
tion is taken up promiscuously with the fingers; but by the following
method they may be made very exact: When the mixture is moistened
properly, roll it on a flat smooth stone, and cut it into square pieces,
making each square large enough for the stars you intend. There is
another method used by some to make stars, which is by rolling the
composition in long pieces, and then cutting off the star, so that each
star will be of a cylindrical form: but this method is not so good as
the former; for, to make the composition roll this way, it must be
made very wet, which makes the stars heavy, as well as weakens them.
All stars must be kept as much from air as possible, otherwise they
will grow weak and bad.
Scrolls of Sky-Rockets.-Cases for scrolls should be made 4 or 5
inches in length, and their interior diameter three-eighths of an inch :
one end of these cases must be pinched quite close, before you begin to
fill; and, when filled, close the other end: then in the opposite sides
make a small hole at each end to the composition, in the same manner
as in tourbillons, and prime them with wet meal powder. You may
put in the head of a rocket as many of these cases as it will contain:
being fired, they turn very quick in the air, and form a scroll or
spiral line. They are generally filled with a strong charge, as that of
serpents or brilliant fire.



PYROTECHNY.
595
¿
Swarmers, or small Rockets-Rockets that go under the denomina-
tion of swarmers, are those from 2 oz. downwards. These rockets are
fired sometimes in flights, and in large water-works, &c. Swarmers of
1 and 2 oz. are bored, and made in the same manner as large rockets,
except that, when headed, their heads must be put on without collars
the number of strokes for driving 1 oz. must be 8, and for 2 oz. 12.
3
藏
​All rockets under 1 oz, are not bored, but must be filled to the usual
height with composition, which generally consists of fine meal powder
4 oz. and charcoal or steel-dust 2 drams: the number of strokes for
ramming these small swarmers is not material, provided they are ram-
med true, and moderately hard. The necks of unbored rockets must
be in the same proportion as in common cases.
Stands for Sky-rockets.-Care must be taken, in placing the rockets
when they are to be fired, to give them a vertical direction at their first
setting out; which may be managed thus:-Have two rails of wood,
of any length, supported at each end by a perpendicular leg, so that the
rails be horizontal, and let the distance from one to the other be almost
equal to the length of the sticks of the rockets intended to be fired;
then in the front of the top rail drive square hooks at 8 inches distance,
with their points turning sidewise, so that, when the rockets are hung
on them, the points will be before the sticks, and keep them from fall-
ing or being blown off by the wind; in the front of the rail at bot-
tom must be staples, drove perpendicular under the hooks at top;
through these staples put the small ends of the rocket-sticks. Rockets
are fired by applying a lighted port-fire to their mouths. When sky-
rockets are made to perfection, and fired, they will stand 2 or 3 se-
conds on the hook before they rise, and then mount up briskly, with
a steady motion, carrying a large tail from the ground all the way up,
and just as they turn break and disperse the stars.
Girandole Chests for Flights of Rockets.-These are generally com-
posed of four sides of equal dimensions; but may be made of any dia-
meter, according to the number of rockets designed to be fired: its
height must be in proportion to the rockets, but must always be a lit-
tle higher than the rockets with their sticks. When the sides are join-
ed, fix in the top, as far down the chest as the length of one of the
rockets with its cap on. In this top, make as many square or round
holes to receive the rocket-sticks, as you intend to have rockets; but
let the distance between them be sufficient for the rockets to stand
without touching one another; then from one hole to another cut a
groove large enough for a quick-match to lie in: the top being thus
fixed, put in the bottom, at about 14 foot distance from the bottom of
the chest; in this bottom must be as many holes as in the top, and all
to correspond; but these holes need not be so large as those in the top.
To prepare your chest, you must lay a quick-match, in all the
grooves, from the hole to hole; then take some sky-rockets, and rub
them in the mouth with wet meal powder, and put a bit of match up
the cavity of each; which match must be long enough to hang a little
below the mouth of the rocket. Your rockets and chest being prepar-
ed according to the above directions, but the sticks of the rockets
through the holes in the top and bottom of the chest, so that all their
mouths may rest on the quick match in the grooves: by which all the
rockets will be fired at once; for, by giving fire to any part of the
match, it will communicate to all the rockets in an instant. As it
:
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596
PYROTECHNY.
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​would be rather troublesome to direct the sticks from the top to the
proper holes in the bottom, it will be necessary to have a small door in
one of the sides, which, when opened, you may see how to place the
sticks. Flights of rockets being seldom set off at the beginning of any
fire-works, they are in danger of being fired by the sparks from
wheels, &c. therefore, to preserve them, a cover should be made to fit
on the chest, and the door in the side kept shut.
Serpents or Snakes for Pots of Aigrettes, small Mortars, Sky-rockets, &c.
Serpents for this use are made from 2 inches to 7 inches long, and
their formers from 3-16ths to 5-8ths of an inch diameter; but the dia-
meter of the cases must always be equal to 2 diameters of the former.
They are rolled and choaked like other cases, and filled with composi-
tion from 5-8ths of an inch to 1 inch high, according to the size of
the mortars or rockets they are designed for; and the remainder of the
cases bounced with corn powder, and afterwards their ends pinched
and tied close: before they are used, their mouths must be primed with
wet meal-powder.
44
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هر
Leaders, or Pipes of Communication.-The best paper for leaders is
elephant; which you cut into long slips 2 or 3 inches broad, so that
they may go 3 or 4 times round the former, but not more: when they
are very thick, they are too strong for the paper which fastens them to
the works, and will sometimes fly off without leading the fire. The
formers for these leaders are made from 2 to 6-16ths of an inch dia-
meter; but 4-16ths is the size generally made use of. The formers
are made of smooth brass wire: when you use them, rub them over
with grease, or keep them wet with paste, to prevent their sticking to
the paper, which must be pasted all over. In rolling of pipes, make
use of a rolling-board, but use it lightly: having rolled a pipe, draw
out the former with one hand, holding the pipe as light as possible
with the other; for, if it press against the former, it will stick and tear
the paper. Make your leaders of different lengths, or in clothing of
works you will cut a great many to waste. Leaders for marron bat-
teries must be made of strong cartridge paper.
Crackers.—Cut some cartridge paper into pieces 34 inches broad, and
one foot long; one edge of each fold down lengthwise about 2 of an
inch broad; then fold the double edge down of an inch, and turn
the single edge back half over the double fold; then open it, and lay
all along the channel, which is formed by the folding of the paper,
some meal-powder; then fold it over and over till all the paper is
doubled up, rubbing it down every turn; this done, bend it backwards
and forwards, 2 inches, or thereabouts, at a time, as often as the paper
will allow; then hold all these folds flat and close, and with a small
pinching cord give one turn round the middle of the cracker, and pinch
it close; then bind it with a packthread as tight as you can; then, in
the place where it was pinched, prime one end of it, and cap it with
touch-paper. When these crackers are fired, they will give a report at
every turn of the paper: if you would have a great number of bounces,
vou must cut the paper longer, or join them after they are made; but,
if they are made very long before they are pinched, you must have a
piece of wood with a groove in it, deep enough to let in half the
cracker; this will hold it straight while it is pinching.
1

Single Reports.-Cases for reports are generally rolled on one and
two oz. formers, and seldom made larger but on particular occasions;
I
PYROTECHNY.
597
ཧ
they are made from two to four inches long, and very thick of paper.
Having rolled a case, pinch one end quite close, and drive it down:
then fill the case with corn powder, only leaving room to pinch it at
top; but before you pinch it, put in a piece of paper at top of the
powder. Reports are fired by a vent, bored in the middle, or at one
end, just as required.
Marrons.-Formers for marrons are from of an inch to 1 dia-
meter. Cut the paper for the cases twice the diameter of the former
broad, and long enough to go three times round: when you have rol-
led a case, paste down the edge and tie one end close; then with the
former drive it down to take away the wrinkles, and make it flat at
bottom; then fill the case with corn powder one diameter and high,
and fold down the rest of the case tight on the powder. The marron
being thus made, wax some strong pack-thread with shoemakers' wax;
this thread wind up in a ball, then unwind two or three yards of it,
and that part which is near the ball make fast to a hook; then take a
marron, and stand as far from the hook as the pack-thread will reach,
and wind it lengthwise round the marron as close as you can, till it
will hold no more that way; then turn it, and wind the pack-thread
on the short way, then lengthwise again, and so on till the paper is all
covered; then make fast the end of the pack-thread, and beat down
both ends of the marron to bring it in shape. The method of firing
marrons is by making a hole at one end with an awl, and putting in
a piece of quick-match then take a piece of strong paper, in which
wrap up the marron with two leaders, which must be put down to
the vent, and the paper tied tight round them with small twine: these
leaders are bent on each side, and their loose ends tied to other mar-
rons, and are nailed in the middle to the rail of the stand. The use
of winding the pack-thread in a ball is, that you may let it out as you
want it, according to the quantity the marron may require; and that
it may not be tied in knots, which would spoil the marron.
Marron Batteries, if well managed, will keep time to a march, or a
slow piece of music. Marron batteries are made of several stands,
with a number of cross rails for the marrons; which are regulated
by leaders, by cutting them of different lengths, and nailing them
tight, or loose, according to the time of the music. In marron bat-
teries you must use the large and small marrons, and the nails for the
pipes must have flat heads.
►
:
Line Rockets-Are made and drove as the sky-rockets, but have
no heads, and the cases must be cut close to the clay': they are some-
times made with six or seven changes, but in general not more than
four or five. The method of managing those rockets is thus:-First,
have a piece of light wood, the length of one of the rockets, turned
round about 2 inches diameter, with a hole through the middle
lengthwise, large enough for the line to go easily through: if you de-
sign four changes, have four grooves cut in the swivel, one opposite
the other, to lay the rockets it.
The mouths of the rockets being rubbed with wet meal powder, lay
them in the grooves head to tail, and tie them fast; from the tail of the
first rocket carry a leader to the mouth of the second, and from the se-
cond to the third, and so on to as many as there are on the swivel,
making every leader very secure; but, in fixing these pipes, take care
that the quick match does not enter the bores of the rockets: the
598
PYROTECHNY.
rockets being fixed on the swivel and ready to be fired, have a line
100 yards long, stretched and fixed up tight, at any height from the
ground; but be sure to place it horizontally: this length of line will do
for lb. rockets; but if larger, the line must be longer. Before you
put up the line, put one end of it through the swivel; and, when you
fire the line-rocket, let the mouth of that rocket which you fire first
face that end of the line where you stand; then the first rocket will
carry the rest to the other end of the line, and the second will bring
them back; and so they will run out and in, according to the number
of rockets: at each end of the line there must be a piece of flat wood
for the rocket to strike against, or its force will cut the line. Let the
line be well soaped, and the hole in the swivel very smooth.
+
Different Decorations for Line Rockets. To line rockets may be fixed
great variety of figures, such as flying dragons, Mercuries, ships, &c.
Or they may be made to run on the line like a wheel; which is done
in this manner: Have a flat swivel made very exact, and on it tie two
rockets obliquely, one on each side, which will make it turn round all
the way it goes, and form a circle of fire; the charge for these rockets
should be a little weaker than common. If you would shew two dra-
gons fighting, get two swivels made square, and on each tie three
rockets together on the under side; then have two flying dragons made
of tin, and fix one of them on the top of each swivel, so as to stand
upright; in the mouth of each dragon put a small case of common fire,
and another at the end of the tail; you may put two or three port-fires,
of a strong charge, on one side of their bodies, to shew them. This
done, put them on the line, one at each end; but let there be a swivel
in the middle of the line to keep the dragons from striking together:
before you fire the rockets, light the cases on the dragons; and, if care
be taken in firing both at the same time, they will meet in the middle
of the line, and seem to fight. Then they will run back and return
with great violence; which will have a very pleasing effect. The line
for these rockets must be very long, or they will strike too hard
together.
•
:
疒
​Chinese Flyers.-Cases for flyers may be made of different sizes, from
one to eight ounces: they must be made thick of paper, and eight in-
terior diameters long; they are rolled in the same manner as tourbil-
lons, with a straight pasted edge, and pinched close at one end. The
method of filling them is: the case being put in a mould, whose cylinder,
or foot, must be flat at top without a nipple, fill it within a diameter
of the middle; then ram in a diameter of clay, on that as much com-
position as before, on which drive a diameter of clay; then pinch
the case close, and drive it down flat: after this is done, bore a hole
exactly through the centre of the clay in the middle; then in the op-
posite sides, at both ends, make a vent; and in that side you intend
to fire first make a small hole to the composition near the clay in the
middle, from which carry a quick-match, covered with a single paper,
to the vent at the other end; then, when the charge is burnt on one
side, it will, by means of the quick-match, communicate to the charge
on the other (which may be of a different sort). The flyers being thus
made, put an iron pin, that must be fixed in the work on which they
are to be fired, and on which they are to run through the hole in the
middle: on the end of this pin must be a nut to keep the flyer from
running off. If you would have them turn back again after they are
}
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PYROTECHNY.
599
burnt, make both the vents at the ends on the same side, which will
alter its course the contrary way.
Table Rockets are designed merely to shew the truth of driving, and
the judgment of a fire-worker, they having no other effect, when fired,
than spinning round in the same place where they begin, till they
are burnt out, and shewing nothing more than an horizontal circle
of fire.
The method of making these rockets is-Have a cone turned out of
hard wood 24 inches diameter, and as much high; round the base of
it draw a line; on this line fix four spokes, two inches long each, so as
to stand one opposite the other; then fill four nine-inch one-pound
cases with any strong composition, within two inches of the top: these
cases are made like tourbillons, and must be rammed with the greatest
exactness. Your rockets being filled, fix their open ends on the short
spokes; then in the side of each case bore a hole near the clay; all
these holes, or vents, must be so made that the fire of each case may
act the same way; from these vents carry leaders to the top of the cone,
and tie them together. When you would fire the rockets, set them on
a smooth table, and light the leaders in the middle, and all the cases
will fire together, and spin on the point of the cone.
.
These rockets may be made to rise like tourbillons, by making the
cases shorter, and boring four holes in the under side of each at equal
distances: this being done, they are called double tourbillons. All
the vents in the under side of the cases must be lighted at once;
and the sharp point of the cone cut off, at which place make it spherical.
Another Receipt for Rockets.-Take of saltpetre four pounds; brim-
stone one pound, and charcoal one pound and a half; or by another di-
rection, saltpetre four pounds, brimstone one pound and a half, charcoal
twelve ounces, and meal powder two ounces. These proportions vary
again according to the size of the rockets; in rockets of four ounces,
mealed powder, saltpetre, and charcoal, are used in the proportions of
10, 2, and 1; but in very large rockets the proportions are, saltpetre
four, mealed powder and sulphur one each. When stars are wanted,
camphor, alcohol, antimony, and other ingredients, are required, ac-
cording as the stars are to be blue, white, &c. In some cases gold and
silver rain is required; then brass dust, steel dust, saw dust, &c. enter
into the composition; hence the varieties may be almost indefinite.
With respect to colour, sulphur gives a blue, camphor a white or pale
colour, saltpetre a whitish yellow, sal-ammoniac a green, antimony a
reddish, rosin a copper colour. These materials require preparation
before they are fit for use; and before a person can be qualified for the
business of fire-work making, he must understand the method of mak-
ing the moulds, cases, &c. and be acquainted with the instruments used
in the art, their dimensions and materials.

Improvement in Fire-Works.-Professor Proust has discovered that
nitrate of soda is an economical article in their composition; and that
five parts of the nitrate, one of charcoal, and one of sulphur, afford a
powder which produces a flame of a beautiful reddish yellow colour.
Of Wheels and other Works.
Single Vertical Wheels.-There are different sorts of vertical wheels ;
some having their fells of a circular form, others of an hexagon, octagon,
or decagon, form, or any number of sides, according to the length of
600
PYROTECHNY.
}
the cases you design for the wheel: your spokes being fixed in the
nave, nail slips of tin, with their edges turned up, so as to form grooves
for the cases to lie in, from the end of one spoke to another; then tie
your cases in the grooves head to tail, in the same manner as those on
the horizontal water-wheel, so that the cases successively taking fire
from one another, will keep the wheel in an equal rotation. Two of
these wheels are very often fired together, one on each side of a build-
ing; and both lighted at the same time, and all the cases filled alike, to
make them keep time together; which they will do if made by the fol-
lowing directions. In all the cases of both wheels, except the first, on
each wheel drive two or three ladlesful of slow fire, in any part of the
cases; but be careful to ram the same quantity in each case, and in the
end of one of the cases, on each wheel, you may ram one ladleful of
dead-fire composition, which must be very lightly drove; you may al-
so make many changes of fire by this method. Let the hole in the nave
of the wheel be lined with brass, and made to turn on a smooth iron
spindle. On the end of this spindle let there be a nut, to screw off and
on; when you have put the wheel on the spindle, screw on the nut,
which will keep the wheel from flying off. Let the mouth of the first
case be a little raised. Vertical wheels are made from ten inches to
three feet diameter, and the size of the cases must differ accordingly;
four-ounce cases will do for wheels of 14 or16 inches diameter, which is
the proportion generally used. The best wood for wheels of all sorts is
a light and dry beech.

Horizontal Wheels are best when their fells are made circular; in the
middle of the top of the nave inust be a pintle, turned out of the same
piece as the nave, two inches long, and equal in diameter to the bore
of one of the cases of the wheel: there must be a hole bored up the
centre of the nave, within half an inch of the top of the pintle. The
wheel being made, nail at the end of each spoke (of which there should
be six or eight) a piece of wood, with a groove cut in it to receive the
case. Fix these pieces in such a manner that half the cases may in-
cline upwards and half downwards, and that, when they are tied on,
their heads and tails may come very near together; from the tail of
one case to the mouth of the other carry a leader, which secure with
pasted paper. Besides these pipes, it will be necessary to put a little
meal powder inside the pasted paper, to blow off the pipe, that there
may be no obstruction to the fire from the cases. By means of these
pipes the case will successively take fire, burning one upwards and
the other downwards. On the pintle fix a case of the same sort as
those on the wheel: this case must be fired by a leader from the mouth
of the last case on the wheel, which case must play downwards: in-
stead of a common case in the middle, you may put a case of Chinese
fire, long enough to burn as long as two or three of the cases on the
wheel. Horizontal wheels are often fired, two at a time, and made to
keep time like vertical wheels, only they are made without any slow
or dead fire; 10 or 12 inches will be enough for the diameter of wheels
with six spokes.

Spiral Wheels are only double horizontal wheels, and made thus:
The nave must be about six inches long, and somewhat thicker than
the single sort; instead of the pintle at top, make a hole for the case
to be fixed in, and two sets of spokes, one set near the top of the
nave, and the other near the bottom. At the end of each spoke cut
PYROTECHNY.
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a groove wherein you tie the cases, there being no fell; the spokes
should not be more than 3 inches long from the nave, so that the
wheel may not be more than 8 or 9 inches in diameter; the cases are
placed in such a manner, that those at top play down, and those at bot-
tom play up, but let the third or fourth case play horizontally. The
case in the middle may begin with any of the others you please: six
spokes will be enough for each set, so that the wheel may consist of
twelve cases, besides that on the top: the cases six inches each.
Plural Wheels are made to turn horizontally, and to consist of three
sets of spokes, placed six at top, six at bottom, and four in the mid-
dle, which must be a little shorter than the rest: let the diameter of
the wheel be ten inches; the cases must be tied on the ends of the
spokes in grooves cut on purpose, or in pieces of wood nailed on the
ends of the spokes, with grooves cut in them as usual: in clothing
these wheels, make the upper set of cases play obliquely downwards,
the bottom set obliquely upwards, and the middle set horizontally. In
placing the leaders, you must order it so that the cases may burn thus,
viz. first up, then down, then horizontal, and so on with the rest.
But another change may be made, by driving in the end of the 8th case
two or three ladlefuls of slow fire, to burn till the wheel has stopped
its course; then let the other cases be fixed the contrary way, which
will make the wheel run back again: for the case at top you may put a
small gerbe; and let the cases on the spokes be short, and filled with a
strong brilliant charge.

7
Illuminated Spiral Wheels.-First have a circular horizontal wheel
made two feet diameter, with a hole quite through the nave; then
take three thin pieces of deal, three feet long each, and of an inch
桑
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broad each one end of each of these pieces nail to the fell of the
wheel, at an equal distance from one another, and the other end nail
to the block with a hole in its bottom, which must be perpendicular with
that in the block of the wheel, but not so large. The wheel being thus
made, have a hoop planed down very thin and flat; then nail one end
of it to the fell of the wheel, and wind it round the three sticks in a
spiral line from the wheel to the block at top: on the top of this block
fix a case of Chinese fire; on the wheel you may place any number of
cases, which must incline downwards, and burn two at a time. If the
wheel should consist of ten cases, you may let the illuminations and
Chinese fire begin with the second cases. The spindle for this wheel
must be a little longer than the cone, and made very smooth at top,
on which the upper block is to turn, and the whole weight of the
wheel to rest.
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Double Spiral Wheel. For this wheel the block, or nave, must be as
long as the height of the worms, or spiral lines, but must be made very
thin, and as light as possible. In this block must be fixed several
spokes, which must diminish in length, from the wheel to the top, so
as not to exceed the surface of a cone of the same height. To the ends
of these spokes nail the worms, which must cross each other several
times: these worms clothe with illuminations, the same as those on the
single wheels; but the horizontal wheel you may clothe as you like.
At top of the worm place a case of spur-fire, or an amber light.
Balloon Wheels are made to turn horizontally: they must be made
two feet diameter, without any spokes, and very strong, with any
number of sides. On the top of a wheel range and fix in pots, three
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PYROTECHNY
inches diameter and seven inches high each, as many of these as there
are cases on the wheel: near the bottom of each pot make a small vent;
into each of these vents carry a leader from the tail of each case; some
of the pots load with stars, and some with serpents, crackers, &c. As
the wheels turn, the pots will successively be fired, and throw into the
air a great variety of fires.
Fruiloni Wheels.-First have a nave made nine inches long, three in
diameter: near the bottom of this nave fix eight spokes, with a hole
in the end of each, large enough to receive a two or four ounce case:
each of these spokes may be 14 inches long from the block. Near the
top of this block fix eight more of the same spokes, exactly over the
others, but not so long by two inches. As this wheel is to run hori-
zontally, all the cases in the spoke must play obliquely up-
wards, and all those in the spoke at bottom obliquely downwards.
This being done, have a small horizontal wheel made with eight
spokes; each five inches long from the block: on the top of this wheel
place a case of brilliant fire: all the cases on this wheel must play in an
oblique direction downwards, and burn two at a time, and those on
the large wheel four at a time; that is, two of those in the top set of
spokes, and two of those in the bottom set of spokes.
1
The four first cases on the large wheel, and the two first on the
small, must be fired at the same time, and the brilliant fire at top at
the beginning of the last cases. The cases of the wheels may be filled
with a grey charge. When these wheels are completed, you must have
a strong iron spindle, made four feet six inches long, and fixed perpen-
dicularly on the top of a stand: on this put the large wheel, whose
nave must have a hole quite through from the bottom to the top. This
hole must be large enough to turn easy round the bottom of the spindle,
at which place there must be a shoulder, to keep the wheel from touch-
ing the stand: at the top of the spindle put the small wheel, and join it
to a large one with a leader, in order that they may be fired both to-
gether.

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Cascades of Fire.-The top piece of the cascade may be of any
length, so as to hold the cases at a little distance from each other; all
the cross pieces are fixed horizontally, and supported by brackets; the
bottom cross piece should be about one foot six inches broad in the
middle, the second one foot, the third nine inches, and the top piece
four inches: the cases may be made of any length, but must be filled
with a brilliant charge. On the edges of the cross pieces must be nail-
ed bits of wood, with a groove cut in each piece, large enough for a
case to lie in. These bits of wood are fixed so as to incline downwards,
and that the fire from one tier of cases may play over the other. All
the cases being tied fast on, carry leaders from one to the other ;' and
let there be a pipe hung from the mouth of one of the cases, covered
at the end with a single paper, which you burn to fire the cascade.
The Fire-Tree. To make a fire-tree, you must first have a piece of
wood six feet long, and three inches square; then at nine inches from
the top, make a hole in the front, and in each side; or, instead of holes,
you may fix short pegs, to fit the inside of the cases. At nine inches
lower, fix three more pegs; at one foot nine inches from thence, fix
three pegs; at nine inches lower, fix three pegs; at nine inches from
thence, fix three pegs, inclining downwards; but all the other pegs
must incline upwards: then at top place a four-inch mortar, loaded with
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PYROTECHNY.
603
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stars, rains, and crackers. In the middle of this mortar place a case
filled with any sort of charge, but let it be fired with the other cases:
a brilliant charge will do for all the cases; but the mortar may be made
of any diameter, and the tree of any size; and on it any number of
cases, provided they are placed in the manner described.
Chinese Fountains.-To make a Chinese fountain, you must have a
perpendicular piece of wood seven feet long and 2 inches square.
Sixteen inches from the top, fix on the front a cross-piece one inch
thick, and 2 broad, with the broad side up: below this, fix three
more pieces of the same width and thickness, at sixteen inches from
each other: let the bottom rail be five feet long, and the others of such
a length as to allow the fire-pumps to stand in the middle of the in-
tervals of each other. The pyramid being thus made, fix in the holes
made in the bottom rail five fire-pumps, at equal distances; on the 2d
rail, place four pumps; on the 3d, three; on the 4th, two; and on
the top of the post, one; but place them all to incline a little forwards,
that, when they throw out the stars, they may not strike against_the
cross rails. Having fixed your fire-pumps, clothe them with leaders,
so that they may all be fired together.
Of Illuminated Globes with Horizontal Wheels.-The hoops for these
globes may be made of wood, tin, or iron wire, about two feet diameter.
For a single globe take two hoops, and tie them together, one within
the other, at right angles; then have a horizontal wheel made, whose
diameter must be a little wider than the globe, and its nave six inches
long; on the top of which the globe is fixed, so as to stand three or four
inches from the wheel: on this wheel you may put any number of cases,
filled with what charge you like; but let two of them burn at a time:
they may be placed horizontally, or to incline downwards, just as you
choose. Now, when the wheel is clothed, fix on the hoops as many
illuminations as will stand within 24 inches of each other: these you
fasten on the hoops with small iron binding wire; and, when they are
all on, put on your pipes of communication, which must be so managed
as to light them all with the second or third case on the wheel. The
spindle on which the globe is to run must go through the block of the
wheel, up to the inside of the top of the globe; where must be fixed a
bit of brass, or iron, with a hole in it to receive the point of the spindle
on which the whole weight of the wheel is to bear, which represents a
globe on its spindle. By this method may be made a crown, which is
done by having the hoops bent in the form of a crown. Sometimes
globes and crowns are ordered so as to stand still, and the wheel only
to turn round; but when you would have the globe or crown to stand
still, and the wheel to run by itself, the block of the wheel must not
be so long, nor the spindle any longer than to just raise the globe a
little above the wheel; and the wheel cases and illumination must be-
gin together.
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Dodecaedron, so called because it nearly represents a twelve-sided
figure, is made thus. First have a ball turned out of some hard wood,
fourteen inches diameter: when done, divide its surface into fourteen
equal parts, from which bore holes 1 inch diameter, perpendicular to
the centre, so that they may all meet in the middle: then let there be
turned in the inside of each hole a female screw; and to all the holes
but one, must be made a round spoke five feet long, with four inches
of the screw at one end to fit the holes; then in the screw-end of all
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PYROTECHNY.
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the spokes bore a hole, five inches up, which must be bored slanting,
so as to come out at one side, a little above the screw; from which cut
a small groove along the spoke, within six inches of the other end,
where you make another hole through to the other side of the spoke.
In this end fix a spindle, on which put a small wheel of three or four
sides, each side six or seven inches long: these sides must have grooves
cut in them, large enough to receive a two or four oz. case.
When
these wheels are clothed, put them on the spindles, and at the end of
each spindle put a nut to keep the wheel from falling off. The wheels
being thus fixed, carry a pipe from the mouth of the first case on each
wheel through the hole in the side of the spoke, and from thence along
the groove, and through the other hole, so as to hang out at the screw-
end about an inch. The spokes being all prepared in this manner,
you must have a post, on which you intend to fire the work, with an
iron screw in- the top of it, to fit one of the holes in the ball on the
screw fix the ball; then in the top hole of the ball put a little meal-
powder, and some loose quick-match: then screw in all the spokes;
and in one side of the ball bore a hole, in which put a leader, and se-
cure it at the end; and your work will be ready to be fired. By this
leader the powder and match in the centre is fired, which will light
the match at the ends of the spokes all at once, whereby all the wheels
will be lighted at once. There may be an addition to this piece, by
fixing a small globe on each wheel, or one on the top wheel only. A
grey charge will be proper for the wheel cases.
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事业
​The Yew-Tree of brilliant Fire.-First, let there be an upright piece
of wood, four feet long, two inches broad, and one thick: at top of
this piece, on the flat side, fix a hoop fourteen inches diameter; and
round its edge and front place illuminations, and in the centre a five-
pointed star; then at 14 foot from the edge of the hoop, place two
cases of brilliant fire, one on each side: these cases should be one foot
long each: below these fix two more cases of the same size, and at
such a distance, that their mouths may almost meet them at top: then
close to the ends of these cases fix two more of the same cases; and
they must stand parallel. The cases being thus fixed, clothe them with
leaders; so that they, with the illuminations and stars at top, may all
take fire together.
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Stars with Points for regulated Pieces, &c.-These stars are made of
different sizes, according to the work for which they are intended :
they are made with cases from 1 oz. to 1 lb. but in general with 4 oz.
cases, four or five inches long: the cases must be rolled with paste,
and twice as thick of paper as a rocket of the same bore. Having
rolled a ease, pinch one end of it quite close: then drive in half a dia-
meter of clay; and when the case is dry, fill it with composition, two
or three inches to the length of the cases with which it is to burn; at
top of the charge drive some clay; as the ends of these cases are seldom
pinched, they would be liable to take fire. Having filled a case, divide
the circumference of it at the pinched end close to the clay into five
equal parts; then bore five holes with a gimblet, about the size of the
neck of a common four ounce case, into the composition: from one hole
to the other carry a quick-match, and secure it with paper: this paper
must be put on in the manner of that on the ends of wheel cases, so
that the hollow part, which projects from the end of the case, may serve
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PTROTECHINY,
605
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to receive à leader from any other work, to give fire to the points of the
sters. These stars may be made with any number of points.
Fixed Sun with a Transparent Face.—To make a sun of the best sort,
there should be two rows of cases, which will shew a double glory, and
make the rays strong and full. The frame, o sun wheel, must be
made thus:-Have a circular flat nave made very strong, 12 inches dia-
meter; to this fix six strong flat spokes. On the front of these fix a
circular fell, five feet diameter; within which fix another fell, the
length of one of the sun cases less in diameter; within this fix a third
fell, whose diameter must be less than the second by the length of one
case and . The wheel being made, divide the fells into so many equal
parts as you would have cases (which may be done from 24 to 44): at
each division fix a flat iron staple; these staples must be made to fit
the cases, to hold them fast on the wheel; let the staples be so placed,
that one row of cases may lie in the middle of the intervals of the other.
•
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In the centre of the block of the sun drive a spindle, on which put a
small hexagon wheel, whose cases must be filled with the same charge
as the cases of the sun two cases of this wheel must burn at a time,
and begin with them on the fells. Having fixed on all the cases, carry
pipes of communication from one to the other, and from one side of
the sun to the wheel in the middle, and from thence to the other side
of the sun.
These leaders will hold the wheel steady, while the sun
is fixing up, and will also be a sure method of lighting both cases of
the wheel together. A sun thus made is called a brilliant sun, be-
cause the wood-work is entirely covered with fire from the wheel in
the middle, so that there appears nothing but sparks of brilliant fire;
but if you would have a transparent face in the centre, you must have
one made of pasteboard of any size. The method of making a face is
by cutting out the eyes, nose, and mouth, for the sparks of the wheel
to appear through; but instead of this face, you may have one painted
on ciled paper, or Persian silk, straightened tight on a hoop; which
hoop must be supported by 3 or 4 pieces of wire at 6 inches distance
from the wheel in the centre, so that the light of it may illuminate
the face. By this method you may have, in the front of a sun, vivat
rex cut in pasteboard, or Apollo painted on silk; but, for a small col-
lection, a sun with a single glory, and a wheel in front, will be most
suitable. Half pound cases,, filled 10 inches with composition, will be
a good size for a sun of 5 feet diameter; but if larger, the cases must
be greater in proportion.
T
Three Vertical Wheels illuminated, which turn on their own Naves
upon a horizontal Table.—Let there be a deal table 3 feet in diameter
this table must be fixed horizontally on the top of a post; on this
post must be a perpendicular iron spindle, which must come through
the centre of the table: then let there be three spokes joined to a tri-
angular flat piece of wood, in the middle of which make a hole to fit
easily over the spindle: let there be pieces of wood 4 or 5 inches long
each, and 2 inches square, fixed on the under sides of the spokes; in
these pieces make holes lengthwise to receive the thin part of the
blocks of the wheels, which, when in, are prevented from coming out
by a small iron pin being run through the end of each. Fix on three
vertical octagon wheels, 18 inches diameter each: the blocks of these
wheels must be long enough for 3 or 4 inches to rest on the table;
round which part drive a number of sharp points of wire, which must
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606
PYROTECHNY.
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not project out of the blocks more than one-sixteenth of an inch: the
use of these points is, that when the blocks run round, they will stick
in the table, and help the wheels forward: if the naves are made of
strong wood, one inch will be enough for the diameter of the thin
part, which should be made to turn easy in the holes in the pieces.
On the front of the wheels make 4 or 5 circles of strong wire, or flat.
hoops, and tie on them as many illuminations as they will hold at 2
inches from each other: instead of circles you may make spiral lines,
clothed with illuminations, at the same distance from each other as those
on the hoops. When illuminations are fixed on a spiral line in the
front of a wheel, they must be placed a little on the slant, the con-
trary way that the wheel runs: the cases for these wheels may be
filled with any coloured charge, but must burn only one at a time.
The wheels being thus prepared, you must have a globe, crown, or
spiral wheel, to put on the spindle in the middle of the table: this
spindle should be just long enough to raise the wheel of the globe,
crown, or spiral wheel, so high that its fire may play over the 3 verti-
cal wheels: by these means their fires will not be confused, nor will
the wheels receive any damage from the fire of each other. In cloth-
ing this work, let the leaders be so managed that all the wheels may
light together, and the illuminations after two cases of each wheel are
burned.
Illuminated Works.
Illuminated works are much admired by the Italians, and indeed
are a great addition to a collection of works. In a grand exhibition
an illuminated piece should be fired after every 2 or 3 wheels, or fixed
pieces of common and brilliant fires; and likewise illuminated works
may be made cheap, quick, and easy.
3
Illuminated Chandelier. To make an illuminated chandelier, you must
first have one made of thin wood. The chandelier being made, bore
in the front of the branches, and in the body, and also in the crown at
top, as many holes for illuminations as they will contain at 3 inches
distance from each other; in these holes put illuminations filled with
white, blue, or brilliant charge. Having fixed in the port-fires, clothe
them with leaders, so that the chandelier and crown may light to-
gether. The mouths of the illuminations must project straight from
the front.
Illuminated Yew Tree.-First have a tree made of wood, 'as described
above. The middle piece or stem, on which the branches are fixed,
must be 8 feet 6 inches high: at the bottom of this piece draw a line
at right angles, 2 feet 6 inches long at each side; then at 1 foot 6
inches from the bottom, fix the branches? Set on the 2 top branches
parallel to them at bottom: let the length of each of these branches be
1 foot from the stem; then fixed on 5 more branches between, at an
equal distance from each other. When the branches are fixed, place
illuminating port-fires on the top of each, as many as you choose:
behind the top of the stem fasten a gerbe or white fountain, which must
be fired at the beginning of the illuminations on the tree.
Flaming Stars with brilliant Wheels.-To make a flaming star, you
must first have made a circular piece of strong wood about 1 inch
thick and 2 feet diameter: round this block fix 8 points, 2 feet 6
inches long each: 4 of these points must be straight and 4 flaming:
these points being joined on very strong, and even with the surface of
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PYROTECHNY.
607
the block, nail tin or pasteboard on their edges, from the block to the
end of each, where they must be joined: this tin must project in front
8 inches, and be joined where they meet at the block: round the
front of the block fix 4 pieces of thick iron wire 8 inches long each,
equally distant from each other: this being done, cut a piece of paste-
board round 2 feet diameter, and draw on it a star. Cut out this
star, and on the back of it paste oiled paper; then paint each point
half red and half yellow lengthwise; but the body of the star must
be left open, wherein must run a brilliant wheel made thus: have
a light block turned 9 inches long; at each end of it fix 6 spokes ; at
the end of each spoke put a 2-ounce case of brilliant fire: the length
of these cases must be in proportion to the wheel, and the diameter of
the wheel, when the cases are on, must be a little less than the diame-
ter of the body of the small star: the cases on the spokes in front
must have their mouths incline outwards, and those on the inside
spokes must be placed so as to form a vertical circle of fire. When
you place your leaders, carry the first pipe from the tail of one of the
cases in front to the mouth of one of the inside cases, and from the
tail of that to another in front, and so on to all the cases. Your wheel
being made, put it on a spindle in the centre of the star; this spindle
must have a shoulder at the bottom to keep the wheel at a little distance
from the block. This wheel must be kept on the spindle by a nut at
the end; having fixed on the wheel, fasten the transparent star to the
4 pieces of wire: when you fire it, you will only see a common hori-
zontal wheel; but when the first case is burnt out, it will fire one of
the vertical cases, which will shew the transparent star, and fill the
large flames and points with fire: then it will again appear like a com-
mon wheel, and so on for 12 charges.
·
Projected regulated Piece of nine Mutations.
A regulated piece, if well executed, is as curious as any in fire-
works: it consists of fixed and moveable pieces on one spindle, repre-
senting various figures, which take fire successively one from another
without any assistance after lighting the first mutation.
I. Names of the mutations, with the colour of fire and size of the
case belonging to each.
First mutation is a hexagon vertical wheel, illuminated in front with
small port-fires tied on the spokes: this wheel must be clothed with
2-ounce cases, filled with black charge; the length of these cases is
determined by the size of the wheel, but must burri singly.
Second mutation is a fixed piece, called a golden glory, by reason of
the cases being filled with spur-fire. The cases must stand perpendi-
cular to the block on which they are fixed, so that when burning, they
may represent a glory of fire. This mutation is generally composed
of 5 or 7 two-ounce cases.
Third mutation is moveable, and is only an octagon vertical wheel,
clothed with 4-ounce cases, filled with brilliant charge: 2 of these
cases must burn at a time. In this wheel you may make changes of
fire.
Fourth mutation is a fixed sun of brilliant fire, consisting of 12 four-
ounce cases: the necks of these cases must be a little larger than those
of four-ounce wheel-cases. In this mutation may be made a change
of fire, by filling the cases half with brilliant charge, and half with
grey.
608
PYROTECHNY.
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Fifth mutation is a fixed piece called the porcupine's quills. This
piece consists of 12 spokes, standing perpendicular to the block in
which they are fixed; on each of these spokes, near the end, must be
placed a 4-ounce case of brilliant fire. All these cases must incline
either to the right or left, so that they may all play one way.
Sixth mutation is a standing piece called the cross fire. This mu-
tation consists of 8 spokes fixed in a block; near the end of each of
those spokes must be tied 2 four-ounce cases of white charge, one
across the other, so that the fires from the cases on one spoke may
intersect the fire from the cases on the other.
Seventh mutation is a fixed wheel, with two circular fells, on which
are placed 16 eight-ounce cases of brilliant fire, in the form of a star.
This piece is called a fixed star of wild-fire.
Eighth mutation. This a beautiful piece, called a brilliant star-piece.
It consists of 6 spokes, which are strengthened by two fells of a hex-
agon form at some distance from each other: at the end of each spoke,
in the front, is fixed a brilliant star of 5 points; and on each side of
every star is placed a four-ounce case of black or grey charge; these
cases must be placed with their mouths sideways, so that their fires
may cross each other.
4
Ninth mutation is a wheel-piece. This is composed of 6 long spokes
with a hexagon vertical wheel at the end of each; these wheels run
on spindles in the front of the spokes; all the wheels are lighted to-
gether. Two-ounce cases will do for these wheels, and may be filled
with any coloured charge.
II. Proportions of the mutations, with the method of conveying the
fire from one to the other, and the distance they stand one from the
other on the spindle.
First mutation must be a hexagon vertical wheel 14 inches diameter ;
on one side of the block, whose diameter is 24 inches, is fixed a tin
barrel. This barrel must be a little less in diameter than the nave :
let the length of the barrel and block be 6 inches. Having fixed the
cases on the wheel, carry a leader from the tail of the last case into
the tin barrel through a hole made on purpose two inches from the
block; at the end of this leader let there be about one inch or two of
loose match; but take care to secure well the hole wherein the pipe
is put to prevent any sparks falling in, which would light the second
mutation before its time, and confuse the whole.
Second mutation is made thus: Have a nave turned 24 inches dia-
meter, and three long; then let half an inch of that end which faces
the first wheel be turned so as to fit easy into the tin barrel of the first
mutation, which must turn round it without touching. On the other
end of the block fix a tin barrel. This barrel must be six inches long,
and only half an inch of it to fix on the block. Round the nave fix
five spokes, 1 inches long each; the diameter of the spokes must be
equal to a 3 oz. former. On these spokes put five 7 inch 2 oz. cases
of spur-fire, and carry leaders from the mouth of one to the other that
they may all light together. Then from the mouth of one of the cases
carry a leader through a hole bored slantwise in the nave from between
the spokes, to the front of the block near the spindle hole: the end of
this leader must project out of the hole into the barrel of the first mu-
tation, so that when the pipe which comes from the end of the last
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PYROTECHNY.
609
case on the first wheel flashes it may take fire, and light the second
mutation. To communicate the fire to the third mutation, bore a hole
near the bottom of one of the five cases to the composition, and from
thence carry a leader into a hole made in the middle of the barrel:
this hole must be covered with pasted paper.
Third mutation may be either an octagon or an hexagon wheel, 20
inches diameter; let the nave be 34 inches diameter, and 34 in length;
1½ inch of the front of the nave must be made to fit in the barrel.
On the other end of the block fix also a tin barrel. This barrel must
be 6 inches in length, one inch of which must fit over the block.
The cases of this wheel must burn two at a time; and from the
mouths of the two first cases carry a leader through holes in the nave,
into the barrel of the second mutation, after the usual manner: but be-
sides these leaders, let the pipe go across the wheel from one first
case to the other; then from the tail of one of the last cases carry a
pipe into a hole in the middle of the barrel; at the end of this pipe
let there be some loose quick-match.
Fourth and fifth mutations.-These may be described under one head,
as their naves are made of one piece, which is 14 inches: first, a block
4 inches diameter, with 10 or 12 short spokes, on which are fixed 11
inch 8-oz. cases: let the front of this block be made to fit easy in
the barrel, and clothe the cases so that they may all light together;
and let a pipe be carried through a hole in the block into the barrel,
in order to receive the fire from the leader brought from the last case
on the wheel. The nave of the fifth mutation must be 4 inches in
diameter; in this nave fix 10 or 12 spokes, 14 foot in length each
these spokes must stand 7 inches distant from the spokes of the fourth
mutation; and at the end of each spoke tie a 4-oz. case.
All these
cases are to be lighted together by a leader brought from the end of
one of the cases.
+
Sixth and seventh mutations.—The blocks of these two mutations äre
turned out of one piece of wood, whose length is 15 inches. First, a
block 5 inches diameter, in which are fixed 8 spokes, each 2 feet 4
inches long: at the end of each spoke tie 2 four-ounce cases. All
these cases must be fired at the same time by a pipe brought from the
end of one of the cases on the 5th mutation. Let the distance be-
tween the spokes, and those in the 5th mutation be 7 inches. The
nave of the 7th mutation must be 5 inches diameter; in this nave
fix 8 spokes, and on the front of them circular fells, one of 4 feet 8
inches diameter, and one of 3 feet 11 diameter: on these fells tie 16
eight-ounce or pound cases, and carry leaders from one to the other, so
that they may be all fired together. This mutation must be fired
by a leader brought from the tail of one of the cases on the 6th muta-
tion.
2
Eighth and ninth mutations.—The blocks of these may be turned out
of one piece, whose length must be 12 inches. The block of the 8th
mutation must be 6 inches diameter; and in it must be fixed 6 spokes,
each 3 feet in length, strengthened by an hexagon fell within 3 or 4
inches of the ends of the spokes: close to the end of each spoke in
the front fix a five-pointed brilliant star; then 7 inches below each
star tie 2 ten-inch eight-ounce cases, so that the upper ends of the cases
may rest on the fells, and their ends on the spokes. Each of these
cases must be placed parallel to the opposite fell.
*

4 I
610
PYROTECHNY.
+
The ninth mutation must have a block 7 inches diameter. In this
block must be screwed 6 spokes, 6 feet long each, with holes and
grooves for leaders, as those in the dodecaedron; at the end of each
spoke in the front, fix a spindle for a hexagon vertical wheel 10 inches
diameter. When these wheels are on, carry a leader from each into
the block so that they may all meet; then lead a pipe from the end
of one of the cases of the 8th mutation, through a hole bored in the
block, to meet the leaders from the vertical wheels, so that they may all
be fired together.
痛
​§
The spindles for larger pieces are required to be made very strong,
and as exact as possible: for a piece of 9 mutations, let the spindle
be at the large end one inch diameter, and continue that thickness as
far as the 7th mutation; and thence to the 5th, let its diameter be
of an inch; from 5th to the 4th, five-eighths of an inch; from the 4th
to the 2d, inch; and from the second to the end, three-eighths of an
inch. At the small end must be a nut to keep on the first wheel, and
at the thick end must be a large nut, so that the screw part of the
spindle being put through a post, and a nut screwed on tight, the spin-
dle will be held fast and steady: but you are to observe, that that part
of the spindle on which the moveable pieces are to run, be made long
enough for the wheels to run easy without sticking; the fixed pieces
being made on different blocks, the leaders must be joined after they
are fixed on the spindle. The best method of preventing the fixed
mutations from moving on the spindle, is to make that part of the
spindle which goes through them square; but as it would be difficult
to make square holes through such long blocks as are sometimes re-
quired, it will be best to make them thus:-Bore a hole little larger
than the diameter of the spindle; and at each end of the block, over.
the hole, fasten a piece of brass with a square hole in it to fit the
spindle.
L
L
+
To make an Horizontal Wheel change to a Vertical Wheel with à Sun in
1
front.
The sudden change of this piece is very pleasing; and gives great
surprise to those who are not acquainted with the contrivance. A
wheel for this purpose should be about three feet diameter, and its fell
-circular; on which tie 16 half-pound cases filled with brilliant charge:
two of these cases must burn at a time; and on each end of the nave
must be a tin barrel of the same construction as those on the regulated
piece. The wheel being completed, prepare the post or stand thus :-
First have a stand made of any height, about three or four inches
square; then saw off from the top a piece two feet long; this piece
join again at the place where it was cut, with a hinge on one side, so
that it may lift up and down in the front of the stand: then fix on the
top of the bottom part of the stand, on each side, a bracket; which
brackets must project at right angles with the stand, one foot from the
front, for the short piece to rest on. These brackets must be placed a
little above the joint of the post, so that when the upper stand falls, it
may lie between them at right angles with the bottom stand; which
may be done by fixing a piece of wood, one foot long, between the
brackets, and even with the top of the bottom stand; then as the
brackets rise above the bottom stand, they will form a channel for the
short post to lie in, and keep it steady without straining the hinge.
On the side of the short post, opposite the hinge, nail a piece of wood,

PYROFECHNY.
611
of such a length, that when the post is perpendicular it may reach
about 14 foot down the long post; to which being tied, it will hold
the short stand upright. The stand being thus prepared, in the top
of it fix a spindle ten inches long: on this spindle put the wheel;
then fix on a brilliant sun with a single glory; the diameter of this
sun must be six inches less than that of the wheel. When you fire
this piece, light the wheel first, and let it run horizontally till four
cases are consumed; then from the end of the fourth case carry a
leader into the tin barrel that turns over the end of the stand,: this
leader must be met by another brought through the top of the post,
from a case filled with a strong port-fire charge, and tied to the bot-
tom post, with its mouth facing the packthread which holds up the
stand; so that when this case is lighted, it will burn the packthread,
and let the wheel fall forward, by which means it will become verti-
çal: then from the last case of the wheel, carry a leader into the
barrel next the sun, which will begin as soon as the wheel is burnt
“out.
1
t
·
Grand Volute, illuminated with a projected Wheel in front. First have
two hoops made of strong. iron wire, one of 6 feet diameter, and one
of 4 feet 2 inches; these hoops must be joined to scrolls. These scrolls
must be made of the same sort of wire as the hoops; on these scrolls
tie, with iron-binding wire, as many illuminating port-fires as they
will hold; at two inches distance; clothe these port-fires with leaders
so that they may all take fire together: then add a circular wheel of
four spokes, 8 feet 6 inches diameter; and on its fell tie as many four-
ounce cases, head to tail, as will complete the circle, only allowing a
sufficient distance between the eases, that the fire may pass free; which
may be done by cutting the upper part of the end of each case a little
shelving: on each spoke fix a four-ounce case, about three inches from
the fell of the wheel: these cases are to burn one at a time, and the
first of them to begin with those on the fell, of which four are to burn
at a time; so that the wheel will last no longer than one-fourth of the
cases on the fell, which in number should be 16 or 20. On the front
of the wheel form a spiral line with strong wire, on which tie port-
fires, placing them on a slant with their mouths to face the same way
as the cases on the wheel: all these port-fires must be fired with the
second cases of wheel. Let the spokes of wood be all made to screw
into a block in the centre; each of these spokes may be in length
about 4 feet 6 inches; in the top of each fix a spindle, and on each
spindle put a spiral wheel of eight spokes. The blocks of these wheels
must have a hole at top for the centre cases, and the spindle must
have nuts screwed on their ends; which nuts should fit in the holes at.
top of the blocks, so that all the wheels must be put on before you fix
in the centre cases. As some of these wheels, by reason of their situa-
tion, will not bear on the nut, it will be necessary to have smooth
shoulders made on the spindles for the blocks to run on. The cases of
these wheels are to burn double; and the method of firing them is by
carrying a leader from each down the spokes into the block in the
centre, as in the dodecaedron, but the centre case of each wheel must
begin with the last two cases as usual. It is to be observed, that the
large circular wheel in front must have a tin barrel on its block, into
which a pipe must be carried from one of the second cases on the
wheel; this pipe being met by another from the large block, in which
拳
​}
*
•
VŠE

T
612
PYROTECHNY.
•
the eight spokes are screwed, will fire all the spiral wheels and the
illuminating port-fires at the same time. The cases of the project-
ed wheel may be filled with a white charge, and those of the spiral
wheels with a grey.
4
Moon and seven Stars.-Procure a smooth circular board 6 feet dia-
meter: out of the middle of it cut a circular piece 12 or 14 inches dia-
meter; and over the vacancy put white Persian silk, on which paint a
moon's face: also sundry stars, each 4 or 5 inches diameter, cut out
with five points, and covered with oiled silk: on the front of the large
circular board draw a seven-pointed star as large as the circle will al-
low; then on the lines which form this star, bore holes, wherein fix
pointed stars. When this case is to be fired, it must be fixed upon
the front of a post, on a spindle with a wheel of brilliant fire behind
the face of the moon; so that while the wheel burns, the moon and
stars will appear transparent; and when the wheel has burnt out, they
will disappear, and the large star in front, which is formed of pointed
stars, will begin, being lighted by a pipe of communication from the
last case of the vertical wheel behind the moon; this pipe must be
managed in the same manner as those in regulated pieces.

Double Cone-Wheel illuminated.-Make a strong decagon wheel, 2
feet 6 inches diameter; then on each side of it fix a cone; these cones
are to consist of a number of hoops, supported by three or four pieces
of wood in the manner of the spiral wheels. Let the height of each
cone be 3 feet 6 inches; and on all the hoops tie port-fires horizontally,
with their mouths outwards, and clothe the wheel with eight-ounce
cases, all to play horizontally, two at a time: the cones may be fired
with the first or second cases. The spindle for this piece must go
through both the cones, and rise 3 feet above the point of the cone at
top; so that its length will be 10 feet 4 inches from the top of the
post in which it is fixed, allowing 4 inches for the thickness of the
block of the wheel. The whole weight of the wheel and cones must
bear on a shoulder in the spindle, on which the block of the wheel
must turn. Near the top of the spindle must be a hole in the front,
in which screw a small spindle after the cones are on; then on this
small spindle fix a sun composed of sixteen 9-inch 4-ounce cases of
brilliant fire, which cases must not be placed on a fell, but only stuck
into a block of six inches diameter: then in the front of this sun must
be a circular vertical wheel sixteen inches diameter; on the front of
this wheel form with iron wire a spiral line, and clothe it with illumi-
nations after the usual method. As this wheel is not to be fired till
the cones are burnt out, the method of firing it is thus: Let the hole
in the block, at the top of the uppermost cone, be a little larger than
the spindle which passes through it; then from the first case of the
vertical wheel before the sun, carry a leader down the side of the
spindle to the top of the block of the horizontal wheel, on which must
be a tin barrel: then this leader being met by another brought from
the end of the last case of the horizontal wheel, will give fire to the
vertical wheel so soon as the cones are extinguished; but the sun must
not be fired til the vertical wheel is quite burnt out,
}

+
激
​To make Fire-Pumps.
Cases for fire-pumps are made as those for tourbillons; only they are
pasted instead of being rolled dry. Having rolled and dried your cases,
✓
PYROTECHNY.
613
"
?
fill them: first put in a little meal-powder, and then a star, on which
ram lightly a ladle or two of composition, then a little meal powder,
and on that a star, then again composition; and so on till you have'
filled the case. Stars for fire-pumps should not be round; but must
be made either square, or flat and circular, with a hole through the
middle: the quantity of powder for throwing the stars must increase
as you come near the top of the case: for if much powder be put at
the bottom, it will burst the case. The stars must differ in size in
this manner: let the star which you put in first be about one-fourth
less than the bore of the case; but let the next star be a little larger,
and the third star a little larger than the second, and so on: let them
increase in diameter till within two of the top of the case, which two
must fit in tight. As the loading of fire-pumps is somewhat difficult,
it will be necessary to make two or three trials before you depend on
their performance. When you fill a number of pumps, take care not
to put in each an equal quantity of charge between the stars, so that
when they are fired, they may not throw up too many stars together.
Cases for fire-pumps should be made very strong, and rolled on four
or eight-ounce formers, ten or twelve inches long each.

Vertical Scroll-Wheel.-This wheel may be made of any diameter,
but must be constructed in the following manner :-Have a block
made of a moderate size, in which fix four flat spokes, and on them
fix a flat circular fell of wood; round the front of this fell place port-
fires; then on the front of the spokes form a scroll, either with a hoop
or strong iron wire; on this scroll tie cases of brilliant fire, in propor-
tion to the wheel, head to tail. When you fire this wheel, light the
first case near the fell; then, as the cases fire successively, you will see
the circle of fire gradually diminish; but whether the illuminations
on the fell begin with the scroll or not is immaterial, that being left
entirely to the maker. This wheel may be put in the front of a regu-
lated piece, or fired by itself occasionally.
Pin-Wheels-First roll some paper pipes, about fourteen inches long
each ;
these pipes must not be made thick of paper, two or three
rounds of elephant paper being sufficient. When your pipes are
thoroughly dried, you must have a tin tube twelve inches long, to fit
easy into the pipes; at one end of this tube fix a small conical cup,
which cone is called a funnel; then bend one end of one of the pipes,
and put the funnel in at the other end as far as it will reach, and fill
the cup with composition: then draw out the funnel by a little at a time,
shaking it up and down, and it will fill the pipe as it comes out. Hav-
ing filled some pipes, have some small blocks made, about one inch
diameter, and half an inch thick: round one of these blocks wind and
paste a pipe, and to the end of this pipe join another; this must be
done by twisting the end of one pipe to a point, and putting it into the
end of the other with a little paste: in this manner join four or five
pipes, winding them one upon the other so as to form a spiral line.
Having wound on your pipes, paste two slips of paper across them to
hold them together; besides these slips of paper, the pipes must be
pasted together.
There is another method of making these wheels, viz. by winding
on the pipes without paste, and sticking them together with sealing-
wax at every half turn; so that, when they are fired, the end will fall
4
loose every time the fire passes the wat, by which means the circle of
}

614
PYROTECHNY.

t
:
fire will be considerably increased. The formers for these pipes are
made from 1 to 4ths of an inch diameter; and the composition for
them is as follows: Meal powder 8 oz. saltpetre 2 oz. and sulphur 1 ;
among these ingredients may be mixed a little steel filings or the dust
of cast iron: this composition should be very dry, and not made too fine,
or it will stick in the funnel. These wheels may be fired on a large
pin, and held in the hand with safety.
Fire-Globes.-There are two sorts of fire-globes; one with projected
cases; the other with the cases concealed, thus Have a globe made of
wood, of any diameter you choose, and divide the surface of it into
fourteen equal parts, and at each division bore hole perpendicular to
the centre: these holes must be in proportion to the cases intended to
be used; in every hole except one, put a case filled with brilliant, or
any other charge, and let the mouths of the cases be even with the
surface of the globe; then cut in the globe a groove, from the mouth of
one case to the other, for leaders which must be carried from case to
case, so that they may all be fired together; this done, cover the globe
with a single paper, and paint it. These globes may be used to orna
ment a building.
+
Fire-globes with projected cases are made thus: Your globe being
made with fourteen holes bored in it as usual, fix in every hole except
one, a case, and let each case project from the globe two-thirds of its
length; then clothe all the cases with leaders, so that they may all take
fire at the same time. Fire globes are supported by a pintle, made to
fit the hole in which there is no case.
To thread and join Leaders and place them on different Works.
Joining and placing leaders is a very essensial part of fire-works, as
it is on the leaders that the performance of all complex works depends;
for which reason the method of conducting pipes of communication
shall be here explained in as plain a manner as possible. Your works
being ready to be clothed, proceed thus: Cut your pipes of a sufficient
length to reach from one case to the other; then put in the quick-match,
which must always be made to go in very easy; when the match is in,
cut it off within about an inch of the end of the pipe, and let it project
as much at the other end; then fasten the pipe to the mouth of each
case with a pin, and put the loose ends of the match into the mouths
of the cases, with a little meal powder: this done to all the cases, paste
over the mouth of each two or three bits of paper. The preceding me
thod is used for large cases, and the following for small, and for illumi
nations · First thread a long pipe; then lay it on the tops of the cases,
and cut a bit of the under side, over the mouth of each case, so that
the match may appear: then pin the pipe to every other case; but be
fore you put on the pipes, put a little meal powder in the mouth of
each case.
If the cases thus clothed are port-fires on illuminated works,
cover the mouth of each case with a single paper; but if they are choak-
ed cases, situated so that a number of sparks from other works may
fall on them before they are fired, secure them with three or four pa-
pers, which must be pasted on very smooth, that there may be no
creases for the sparks to lodge in, which often set fire to the works be-
fore their time. Avoid as much as possible placing the leaders too
near, or one across the other so as to touch, as it may happen that the
flash of one will fire the other; therefore if your works should be sa
።
A
;


.
4

PYROTECHNY.
615
formed that the leaders must cross or touch, be sure to make them very
strong, and secure at the joints, and at every opening.
When a great length of pipe is required, it must be made by join-
ing several pipes in this manner: Having put on one length of match
as many pipes as it will hold, paste paper over every joint; but, if a
still greater length is required, more pipes must be joined, by cutting
about an inch off one side of each pipe near the end, and laying the
quick-match together, and tying them fast with small twine; after
which, cover the joining with pasted paper.
Placing Fire-Works to be exhibited.
Nothing adds more to the appearance of fire-works than the placing
them properly; though the manner of placing them chiefly depends on
the judgment of the maker. The following are the rules generally ob-
served, whether the works are to be fired on a building or on stands:
If they are a double set, place one wheel of a sort on each side of the
building; and next to each of them, towards the centre, place a fixed
piece; then wheels, and so on; leaving a sufficient distance between them
for the fire to play from one without burning the other. Having fixed
some of your works thus in front, place the rest behind them, in the
centre of their intervals. The largest piece, which is generally a regu-
lated or transparent piece, must be placed in the centre of the building,
and behind it a sun, which must always stand above all the other works.
A little before the building, or stands, place your large gerbes; and at
the back of the works fix your marron batteries, pots des aigrettes, pots
des brins, pots de saucissons, air-balloons, and flights of rockets. The
rocket stands may be fixed behind, or anywhere else, so as not to be
in the way of the works. Singlé collections are fired on stands; which
stands are made in the same manner as theodolite stands, only the top
part must be long or short occasionally; these stands may be fixed up
very soon without much trouble.
Order of Firing.

1. Two signal
2. Six sky
3. Two honoráry
4. Four caduceus
Twỏ…
8. A line rocket of five changes
9. Four tourbillon's
10.
11.
12.
'5.
6.
4.S
Two
rockets
vertical
spiral
transparent stars
13.
14.
15. Three large gerbes
16. A flight of rockets
17.
wheels illuminated
18.
19. Twelve sky-rockets
horizontal wheels
'air balloons illuminated
Chinese fountains
regulating pieces of four mutations each
pots des aigrettes · ·
Two f balloon wheels
cascades of brilliant fire
1...
XỬ*
T
་
↑ I
t
i
**
616
PYROTECHNY.
20.
21.
} Two
{
22. Four tourbillons
23.
Two
24.
25. One pot des saucissons
26. Two plural wheels
27. Marron battery
28. Two chandeliers illuminated
29. Range of pots des brins
30. Twelve sky-rockets
illuminated yew trees
air-balloons of serpents, and two compound
Fruiloni wheels
illuminated globes with horizontal wheels
1. Vertical wheel illuminated
2. Golden glory
3. Octagon vertical wheel
4. Porcupine's quills
5. Cross fires
6. Star-piece with brilliant rays
7. Six vertical wheels
31. Two yew-trees of fire
32. Nest of serpents
35. Brilliant sun
33. Two double cones illuminated 36. Large flight of rockets
34. Regulating piece of seven muta-
tions, viz.
When water-works are to be exhibited, divide them into several sets
and fire one set after every fifth or sixth change of land and air works.
Observe this rule in firing a double set of works: Always begin with
sky rockets, then two moveable pieces, then two fixed pieces, and so
on; ending with a large flight of rockets, or a marron battery: if a
single collection, fire a fixed piece after every wheel or two, and now
and then some air and water works.
Fountain of Sky-rockels.-Procure a perpendicular post, 16 feet high
from the ground, and 4 inches square. Let the rail, or cross piece, be
1 foot 6 inches long, 3 inches broad, and 1 thick. The rail at bottom
must be 6 feet long, 1 foot broad, and 1 inch thick. The two sides,
which serve to supply the rails, are 1 foot broad at bottom, and cut in
the front with a regular slope, to 3 inches at top; but their back edges
must be parallel with the front of the pots. The breadth of the rail
will be determined by the breadth of the sides: all the rails must be
fixed at 2 feet distance from each other, and at right angles with the
pots. Having placed the rails, bore in the bottom rail 10 holes at equal
distances, large enough to receive the stick of a one pound rocket: in
the back edge of this rail cut a groove from one end to the other, fit
to contain a quick-match; then cut a groove in the top of the rail,
from the edge of each hole, into the groove in the back: in the same
manner cut in the second rail 8 holes and grooves; in the third rail, 6
holes and grooves; in the fourth rail, 4 holes and grooves; and in the
top rail, 2 holes and grooves. Place a rail with holes in it to guide the
ends of the rocket-sticks: this rail must be fixed 6 feet from the rail
at bottom. The fountain frame being thus made, prepare your rockets
thus: Tie round the mouth of each a piece of thin paper, large enough
to go twice round, and to project about 1 inch from the mouth of the
rocket, which must be rubbed with wet meal powder; in the mouth of
each rocket put a leader, which secure well with the paper that pro-
jects from the mouth of the case: these leaders must be carried into
the grooves in the back of the rails, in which lay a quick-match from
one end to the other, and cover it with pasted paper: holes must be
made in the rail at bottom, to receive the ends of the sticks of the
rockets, and so on to the fourth rail; so that the sticks of the rockets
at top will go through all the rails. The rockets being so prepared,
}

PYROTECHNY. -
617
fix a gerbe, or white flower-pot, on each rail, before the post, with their
mouths inclining a little forwards; these gerbes must be lighted all at
once. Behind or before each gerbe, fix a case of brilliant or slow fire:
these cases must be filled so that they may burn one out after the
other, to regulate the fountain; which may be done by carrying a
leader from the end of each slow or brilliant fire, into the groove in
the back of each rail. Different fixed rockets may be used in these
fountains ; but it will be best to fill the heads of the rockets on each
rail with different sorts of things, in this manner; those at top with
crackers, the next with rains, the third with serpents, the fourth with
tailed stars, and the last flight with common or brilliant stars.
Palm-Tree.-This piece, though made of common fires and of a
simple construction, has a very pleasing effect; owing to the fires in-
tersecting so often, that they resemble the branches of trees. Procure
a perpendicular post, of any thickness, so that it is sufficiently strong to
hold the cases; let the distance of the arms be 2 feet 6 inches, and let
the length of each cross piece be 2 feet; on each end of each fix a
five-pointed star: then fix, on pegs made on purpose, 12-inch half-
pound cases of brilliant fire. All the cases and stars must be fired at
This piece should be fixed high from the ground.
once.
Illuminated Pyramid, with Archimedian Screws, a Globe, and vertical
Sun, May be of any height; the space between the rails must be 6
inches, and the rails as thin as possible: in all the rails stick port-fires
at 4 inches distance. The Archimedian screws are nothing more than
double spiral wheels, with the cases placed on their wheels horizon-
tally instead of obliquely. The vertical sun need not consist of more
than 12 rays, to form a single glory. The globe at top must be made
in proportion to the pyramid; which being prepared according to the
preceding directions, place your leaders so that all the illuminating
port-fires, screws, globe, and sun, may take fire together. The pyra-
mid must be supported by the two sides, and by a support brought
from a pole, which must be placed two feet from the back of the pyra-
mid, that the wheels may run free.
Rose-piece, and Sun.-A rose-piece may be used for a mutation of a
regulated piece, or fired by itself: it makes the best appearance when
made large; if its exterior diameter be 6 feet, it will be a good size.
Let the exterior fell be made of wood, and supported by 4 wooden
spokes: all the other parts, on which the illuminations are fixed, must
be made of strong iron wire: on the exterior fell place as many half-
pound cases of brilliant charge as you think proper, but the more the
better; for the nearer the cases are placed, the stronger will be the rays
of the sun: the illuminations should be placed within 3 inches of each
other: they must be all fired together, and burn some time before the
sun is lighted; which may be done by carrying a leader from the
middle of one of the illuminations, to the mouth of one of the sun
cases.
·
Transparent Stars with illuminated Rays.-First make a strong ciz-
cular back or body of the star, 2 feet diameter, to which you fix the il-
luminated rays: in the centre of the front of the body fix a spindle, on
which put a double triangular wheel, 6 inches diameter, clothed with
two ounce cases of brilliant charge: the cases on this wheel must burn
but one at a time. Round the edge of the body nail a hoop made of thin
wood or tin: this hoop must project in front 5 or 7 inches: in this hoop
4 K
618
PYROTECHNY..
cut three or four holes to let out the smoke from the wheel.. The star
and garter may be cut out of strong pasteboard or tin, made in this
manner: Cut a round piece of pasteboard or tin, 2 feet diameter, on
which draw a star, and cut it out; then over the vacancy paste Persian
silk; paint the letters yellow; 4 of the rays yellow, and 4 red; the
cross in the middle may be painted half red and half yellow, or yellow
and blue. This transparent star must be fastened to the wooden hoop
by a screw, to take off and on; the illuminated rays are made of thin
wood, with tin sockets fixed on their sides within 4 inches of each other;
in these sockets stick illuminating port-fires; behind the point of each
ray fix a half-pound case of grey, black, or Chinese fire. The illumi-
nated rays are to be lighted at the same time as the triangular wheel,
or after it is burnt out; which may be done by a tin-barrel being fixed
to the wheel, after the manner of those in the regulated pieces. Into
this barrel carry a leader from the illuminated rays, through the back
of the star; which leader must be met by another, brought from the tail
of the last case on the wheel.
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Transparent Table Star illuminated.-The centre frame must be 4
feet square; and in this square fix a transparent star. This star may
be painted blue, and its rays made as those of the flaming stars desrib-
ed before. The wheel for this star may be composed of different co-
loured fires, with a charge or two of slow fire; the wheels may be
clothed with any number of cases, so that the star wheel consist of the
same; the illuminating port-fires, which must be placed very neat
each other on the frames, must be so managed as to burn as long as
the wheels, and lighted at the same time.
The regulated Spiral Piece, with a projected Star-wheel illuminated.-
This piece may be thus made: Procure a block of 8 inches diameter ;
in this block screw 6 iron spokes, which must serve for spindles for
the spiral wheels: these wheels are made as usual, each 1 foot dia-
meter, and 3 feet in height: the spindles must be long enough to keep
the wheels 4 or 5 inches from one another; at the end of each spindle
must be a screw-nut, on which the wheels that hạng downwards will
run; and on the spindles which stand upwards must be a shoulder, for
the blocks of the wheels to run on.
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The projected star-wheel must turn on the same spindle on which
the large block is fixed; this spindle must be long enough to allow
the star wheel to project a little before the spiral wheels: the exterior
diameter of the star-wheel must be 3 feet 5 inches. On this wheel fix
3 circles of iron wire, and on them port-fires; on the block place a
transparent star, or a large five pointed brilliant star. The cases on
this wheel may burn four at once, as it will contain near twice the num-
ber of one of the spiral wheels: the cases on the spiral wheels must be
placed parallel to their fells, and burn two at a time.
A Figure-piece illuminated with five-pointed Stars.-The construction
of this piece is very easy. The vertical wheel in the centre must be
1 foot diameter, and consist of 6 four-ounce cases of different colour-
ed charge, which cases must burn double: on the frames fix five
pointed brilliant or blue stars, rammed 4 inches with composition: let
the space between each star be 8 inches; at each point fix a gerbe, ar
case of Chinese fire. When to be fired, let the gerbe, stars, and wheel,
be lighted at the same time.
The Star-wheel illuminated. This beautiful piece hath its exterior
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fell made of wood, 3 feet 6 inches, or 4 feet diameter; within this fell,
form with iron wire 3 circles, one less than the other, so that the dia-
meter of the least may be about 10 inches: place the port-fires on
these fells with their mouths inclining outwards, and the port-fires on
the points of the star with their mouths projecting in front: let the
exterior fell be clothed with four-ounce cases of grey charge: these
cases must burn four at a time, and be lighted at the same time as the
illuminations.
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Pyramid of Flower-pots.This curious piece must be made thus:
Let the height be 6 feet; and from one rail to the other, 2: on the
bottom rail fix five paper mortars, each 34 inches diameter; these mor-
tars load with serpents, crackers, stars, &c. In the centre of each mor-
tar fix a case of spur-fire on the second rail fix four mortars, so as
to stand exactly in the middle of the intervals of them on the bottom
rail; on the third rail place three, mortars on the fourth, 2; and on
the top of the post, 1: the bottom rail must be 6 feet long: all the
mortars must incline a little forwards, that they may easily discharge;
and the spur-fires rammed exactly alike, that the mortars may all be
fired at the same time. Having prepared your pyramid according to
the preceding directions, carry pipes of communication from one spur-
fire to the other.
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The illuminating regulating Piese-Erect flat wooden spokes, each
five feet long: at the end of each place a vertical wheel, 10 inches dia-
meter, clothed with 6 four-ounce cases of brilliant fire: these cases
must burn but one at a time on two of the spokes of each wheel
place two port-fires, which must be lighted with the first case of the
wheel; on each spoke behind the wheels, place six cases of the same
size with those on the wheels: these cases must be tied across the
spokes with their mouths all one way, and be made to take fire suc-
cessively one after the other, so that they may assist the whole pieces
they
to turn round.
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The diameter of the large wheel must be 24 feet; and its fell made
of wood, which must be fixed to the large spokes on this wheel
place 24 cases of the same sort with those on the small wheels; these
cases must burn four at a time; in this wheel make three circles with
iron wire, and on them place illuminating port-fires; the star points
on the large spokes may be made of thin, ash-hoops; the diameter of
those points close to the centre-wheel must be 11 inches: on these points
place port-fires, at 3 inches distance one from the other.
4.
Aquatic Fire-Works.. * 40
turk **
Works that sport in the water are much esteemed by most admirers
of fire-works, particularly water-rockets; and, as they seem of a very
extraordinary nature to those who are unacquainted with this art, they
merit a particular explanation..
... 190. !
Water-rockets, may be made from 4 oz. to 2 lb. If larger, they are
too heavy; so that it will be difficult to make them keep above water
without a cork float, which must be tied to the neck of the case but
the rockets will not dive so well with as without floats. Cases for
these are made in the same manner and proportion as sky-rockets, IF
ly a little thicker of paper. When you fill those which are drove so-
lid, put in first one ladleful of slow fire, then two of the proper charge,
and on that one or two ladles of sinking charge, then the proper
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PYROTECHNY
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charge, then the sinking charge again, and so on, till you have filled
the case within three diameters; then drive on the composition one
ladleful of clay; through which make a small hole to the charge; then
fill the case, within a diameter, with corn-powder, on which turn
down two or three rounds of the case in the inside; then pinch and tie
the end very tight; having filled your rockets, according to the above
directions, dip their ends in melted rosin or sealing wax, or else se-
cure them well with grease. When you fire these rockets, throw in six
or eight at a time; but, if you would have them all sink, or swim, at
the same time, you must drive them with an equal quantity of compo-
sition, and fire them all together.
To make Pipes of communication, which may be used under Water.-
Pipes for this purpose must be a little thicker of paper than those for
land. Having rolled a sufficient number of pipes, and kept them till
dry, wash them over with drying oil, and set them to dry; but, when
you oil them, leave about 12 inch at each end dry, for joints: if they
were oiled all over, when you come to join them, the paste would not
stick where the paper is greasy: after the leaders are joined, and the
paste dry, oil the joints. These pipes will lie many hours under water,
without receiving any damage.
Horizontal Wheels for the Water.First get a large wooden bowl
without a handle; then have an octagon wheel made of a flat board
18 inches diameter, so that the length of each side will be near seven
inches: in all the sides cut a groove for the cases to lie in. This
wheel being made, nail it on the top of the bowl; then take four eight-
ounce cases, filled with a proper charge, each about 6 inches in length.
Now, to clothe the wheel with these cases, get some whitish-brown
paper, and cut it into slips four or five inches broad, and seven or eight
long: these slips being pasted all over on one side, take one of the cases,
and roll one of the slips of paper about 1 inch on its end, so that
there will remain about 2 inches of the paper hollow from the end of
the case: this case tie on one of the sides of the wheel, near the corners
of which must be holes bored, through which you put the packthread
to tie the cases: having tied on the first case at the neck and end, put
a little meal powder in the hollow paper; then paste a slip of paper
on the end of another case, the head of which put into the hollow pa-
per on the first, allowing a sufficient distance from the tail of one to the
head of the other for the pasted paper to bend without tearing: the se-
cond case tie on as you did the first: and so on with the rest, except
the last, which must be closed at the end, unless it is to communicate
to any thing on the top of the wheel, such as fire-pumps or brilliant
fires, fixed in holes cut in the wheel, and fired by the last or second
case, as the fancy directs: 6, 8, or any number, may be placed on the
top of the wheel, provided they be not too heavy for the bowl.
*
Before you tie on the cases, cut the upper part of all their ends,
except the last, a little shelving, that the fire from one may play over
the other, without being obstructed by the case. Wheel-cases have
no clay drove in their ends, nor pinched, but are always left open,
only the last, or those which are not to lead fire, which must be well
secured.
Water Mines.-For these mines you must have a bowl with a wheel
an it, made in the same manner as the water-wheel; only in its mid-
dle there must be a hole, of the same diameter you design to have the
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621
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mine. These mines are tin pots, with strong bottoms, and a little more
than two diameters in length: your mine must be fixed in the hole in
the wheel, with its bottom resting on the bowl; then loaded with ser-
pents, crackers, stars, small water-rockets, &c. in the same manner as
pots of aigrettes: but in their centre fix a case of Chinese fire, or a
small gerbe, which must be lighted at the beginning of the last case
on the wheel. These wheels are to be clothed as usual.
Fire-globes for the Water.-Bowls for water-globes must be very large,
and the wheels on them of a decagon form: on each side of which
nail a piece of wood 4 inches long; and on the outside of each piece
cut a groove, wide enough to receive about of the thickness of a 4
ounce case: these pieces of wood must be nailed in the middle of each
face of the wheel, and fixed in an oblique direction, so that the fire
from the cases may incline upwards: the wheel being thus prepared,
tie in each groove a 4 ounce case, filled with a grey charge; then carry
a leader from the tail of one case to the mouth of the other.-Globes
for these wheels are made of two tin hoops, with their edges outwards,
fixed one within the other, at right angles. The diameter of these hoops
must be somewhat less thau that of the wheel. Having made a globe,
drive in the centre of a wheel an iron spindle, which must stand per-
pendicular, and its length 4 or 6 inches more than the diameter of the
globe.
This spindle serves for an axis, on which the globe is fixed, which,
when done, must stand 4 or 6 inches from the wheel: round one side
of each hoop must be soldered little bits of tin, 24 inches distance from
each other; which pieces must be two inches in length each, and only
fastened at one end, the other ends being left loose, to turn round the
small port-fires, and hold them on; these port-fires must be made of
such a length as will last out the cases on the wheel. You are to ob-
serve, that there need not be any port-fires at the bottom of the globe
within four inches of the spindle; for, if there were, they would have
no effect, but only burn the wheel: all the port-fires must be placed
perpendicular from the centre of the globe, with their mouths out-
wards; and must all be clothed with leaders, so as all to take fire with
the second case of the wheel; which cases must burn two at a time,
one opposite the other. When two cases of a wheel begin together,
two will end together; therefore the two opposite end cases must have
their ends pinched and secured from fire. The method of firing such
wheels is, by carrying a leader from the mouth of one of the first cases
to that of the other; which leader being burnt through the middle, will
give fire to both at the same time.
Odoriferous Water-Balloons.-These balloons are made in the same
manner as air-balloons, but very thin of paper, and in diameter 12
inch, with a vent of inch diameter. The shells being made, and
quite dry, fill them with any of the following compositions, which
must be rammed in tight: these balloons must be fired at the vent,
and put into a bowl of water. Odoriferous works are generally fired
in rooms.
Composition I. Saltpetre 2 oz. flour of sulphur 1 oz. camphor oz.
yellow amber oz. charcoal-dust oz. flour of benjamin or assa odorata
oz. all powdered very fine and well mixed.
II. Saltpetre 12 oz. meal-powder 3 oz. frankincense 1 oz. myrrh oz,
camphor oz. charcoal 3 oz. all moistened with the oil of spike.
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PYROTECHNY.
SIII. Saltpetre 2 oz. sulphur oz. antimony oz. amber oz. cedar
raspings oz. all mixed with the oil of roses and a few drops of
bergamot.
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IV. Saltpetre 4 oz, sulphur 1 oz saw-dust of juniper oz. saw-dust
of cypress 1 oz. camphor oz. myrrh 2 drams, dried rosemary oz.
cortex elaterii oz. all moistened a little with the oil of roses.
I
Water
rockets may be made with any of the above compositions, with a little
alteration, to make them weaker or stronger, according to the size of
the cases.
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Water-Balloons-Having made some thin paper shells, of what dia-
meter you please, fill some with the composition for water balloons, and
some after this manner: Having made the vent of the shells pretty
large, fill them almost full with water rockets, marrons, squibs, &c.
Then put in some blowing powder, sufficient to burst the shells; and
afterwards fix in the vent a water-rocket, long enough to reach the bottom
of the shell, and its neck to project a little out of the vent; this rocket
must be open at the end, to fire the powder in the shell, which will
"burst the¯ shell, and disperse the small rockets, &c. in the water.
When you have well secured the large rocket in the vent of the shell,
-take a cork float with a hole in its middle, which fit over the head of
the rocket, and fasten it to the shell: this float must be large enough
to keep the balloon above water.
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Water squibs are generally made of one ounce serpent cases seven or
eight inches long, filled two thirds with charge; and the remainder
bounced. The common method of firing them is this: take a water-
wheel, with a tin mortar in its centre, which load with squibs after the
usual method; but the powder in the mortar must be no more than
will just throw the aquibs out easily into the water: you may place the
cases on the wheel either obliquely or horizontally; and on the top of
the wheel; round the mortar, fix six cases of brilliant fire perpendicular
to the wheel: these cases must be fired at the beginning of the last
case of the wheel, and the mortar at the conclusion of the same.
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· A Sea fight with small Ships, and to prepare a Fireship for it.-Hav-
ing procured four or five small ships, of two or three feet in length,
(or as many as you design to fight), make a number of small reports,
which are to serve for: gunsOf these range as many as you please
!! on each side of the upper decks; then at the head and stern of each
ship fix a two ounce cast, eight inches long, filled with a slow port-
fire receipt; but take care to place it in such a manner that the fire
may fall in the water, and not buin the rigging: in these cases bore
holes at unequal distances from one another, but make as many in each
scase as half the number of reporte, so that one case may fire the guns
on one side, and the other those on the opposite. The method of fir-
ing the
guns is, by carrying a leader from the holes in the cases to the
reports on the decks; you must make these leaders very small, and be
carefullin dalculating the burning of the slow-fire in the regulating
cases, that more than two guns be not fired at a time. When you
would have a broadside given, let a leader be carried to a cracker, placed
on the cutside of the ship; which cracker must be tied loose, or the
reports will be too slow in all the ships put artificial guns at the port-
holes.
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Having filled and bored holes in two port-fires for regulating the
guns in one ship, make all the rest exactly the same; then, when
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PYROTECHNY.
623
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begin the engagement, light one ship first, and set it a sailing, and so
on with the rest, sending them out singly, which will make them fire
regularly, at different times, without confusion; for the time between
the firing of each gun will be equal to that of lighting the slow fires.
The fire-ship may be of any size; and need not be very good, for it
is always lost in the action. To prepare a ship for this purpose, make
a port-fire equal in size with those in the other ships, and place it at
the stern; in every port place a large port-fire, filled with a very
strong composition, and painted in imitation of a gun, and let them all
be fired at once by a leader from the slow fire, within two or three dia-
meters of its bottom; all along both sides, on the top of the upper
deck, lay star composition about half an inch thick and one broad,
which must be wetted with thin size, then primed with meal powder,
and secured from fire by pasting paper over it; in the place where you
lay this composition, drive some little tacks with flat heads, to hold it
fast to the deck: this must be fired just after the sham guns, and when
burning will shew a flame all round the ship: at the head take up the
decks, and put in a tin mortar loaded with crackers, which mortar must
be fired by a pipe from the end of the slow fire; the firing of this mor-
tar will sink the ship, and make a pretty conclusion. The regulating
port-fire of this ship must be lighted at the same time with the first
fighting. ship.
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​Having prepared all the ships for fighting, we shall next proceed
with the management of them when on the water. At one end of the
pond, just under the surface of the water, fix two running blocks, at
what distance you choose the ships should fight; and at the other end
of the pond, opposite to each of these blocks, under the water, fix a
double block; then on the land, by each of the double blocks, place
two small windlasses; round one of them turn one end of a small cord,
and the other and put through one of the blocks; then carry it through
the single one at the opposite end of the pond, and bring it back
through the double block again, and round the other windlass: to this
cord, near the double block, tie as many small strings as half the num-
ber of the ships, at what distance you think proper; but these strings
must not be more than two feet each: make fast the loose end of each
to a ship, just under her bowsprit; but if tied to the keel, or too near
the water, it will overset the ship. Half the ships being thus prepared,
near the other double block fix two more windlasses, to which fasten a
cord, and to it tie the other half of the ships as before: when you fire
the ships, pull in the cord with one of the windlasses, to get all ships
together; and when you have set fire to the first, turn that windlass
which draws them out, and so on with the rest, till they are all out in
the middle of the pond; then, by turning the other windlass, you will
draw them back again; by which method you may make them change
sides, and tack about backwards and forwards at pleasure. - For the
fire-ship, fix the blocks and windlasses between the others; so that
when she sails out, she will be between the other ships: you must not
let this ship advance till the guns at her ports take fire.
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To fire Sky-rockets under Water. You must have stands made as
usual, only the rails must be placed flat instead of edgewise, and haye
holes in them for the rocket-sticks to go through; for, if they were
hung upon hooks, the motion of the water would throw them off: the
stands being made, if the pond is deep enough, sink them at the sides
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PYROTECHNY.
624
so deep, that, when the rockets are in, their heads may just appear
above the surface of the water; to the mouth of each rocket fix a leader,
which put through the hole with the stick; then a little above the wa-
ter must be a board, supported by the stand, and placed along one
side of the rockets; then the ends of the leaders are turned up through
holes made in this board, exactly opposite the rockets. By this means
you may fire them singly or all at once. Rockets may be fired by this
method in the middle of a pond by a Neptune, a swan, a water-wheel,
or any thing else you choose.
To represent Neptune in his Chariot.-To do this to perfection, you
must have a Neptune (made of wood, or basket work) as big as life,
fixed on a float large enough to bear his weight; on which must be two
horses heads and necks, so as to seem swimming. For the wheels of
the chariot, there must be two vertical wheels of black fire, and on
Neptune's head a horizontal wheel of brilliant fire, with all its cases to
play upwards. When this wheel is made, cover it with paper or paste-
board, cut and painted like Neptune's coronet; then let the trident be
made without prongs, but instead of them, fix three cases of a weak
grey charge, and on each horse's head put an eight ounce case of bril-
liant fire, and on the mouth of each fix a short case of the same dia-
meter, filled with the white flame receipt, enough to last out all the
cases on the wheels: these short cases must be opened at bottom, that
they may light the brilliant fires; for the horses' eyes put small port-
fires, and in each nostril put a small case filled half with grey charge,
and the rest with port-fire composition.
If Neptune is to give fire to any building on the water; at his first
setting out, the wheels of the chariot, and that on his head, with the
white flames on the horses heads, and the port-fires in their eyes and
nostrils, must all be lighted at once; then from the bottom of the white
flames carry a leader to the trident. As Neptune is to advance by the
help of a block and cord, you must manage it so as not to let him turn
about till the brilliant fires on the horses and the trident begin; for it
is by the fire from the horses (which plays almost upright) that the
building, or work is lighted; which must be thus prepared: From
the mouth of the case which is to be first fired, hang some loose quick-
match to receive the fire from the horses. When Neptune is only to
be shewn by himself, without setting fire to any other works, let the
white flames on the horses be very short, and not to last longer than
one case of each wheel, and let two cases of each wheel burn at a time.
Swans and Ducks in Water.-If you will have any swans or ducks
discharge rockets into the water, they must be made hollow, and oi
paper, and filled with small water rockets, with some blowing powde
to throw them out: but, if this is not done, they may be made of wood,
which will last many times. Having made and painted some swans,
fix them on floats: then in the places where their eyes should be, bore
holes two inches deep, inclining downwards, and wide enough to re-
ceive a small port-fire; the port-fire cases for this purpose must be
made of brass, two inches long, and filled with a slow bright charge.
In the middle of one of these cases make a little hole; then put the
port-fire in the eye-hole of the swan, leaving about half an inch to pro-
ject out; and in the other eye put another port-fire, with a hole made
in it: then in the neck of the swan, within two inches of one of the
eyes, bore a hole slantwise, to meet that in the port-fire; in this hole
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625
put a leader, and carry it to a water-rocket, that must be fixed under
the tail with its mouth upwards. On the top of the head place two
onc-ounce cases, four inches long each, drove with brilliant fire; one of
these cases must incline forwards, and the other backwards: these must
be lighted at the same time as the water-rocket; to do which, bore a
hole between them in the top of the swan's head, down to the hole in
the port-fire, to which carry a leader: if the swan is filled with rockets,
which must be fired by a pipe from the end of the water-rocket un-
der the tail. When you set the swan a swimming, light the two eyes.
:
Water Fire-Fountains.—To make a fire-fountain, you must first have
a float made of wood, three feet diameter; then in the middle fix. a
round perpendicular post, four feet high, and two inches diameter;
round this post fix three circular wheels made of thin wood, without
any spokes. The largest of these wheels must be placed within two
or three inches of the float, and must be nearly of the same diameter.
PYROTECHNY.
The second wheel must be 2 feet 2 inches diameter, and fixed at 2
feet distance from the first. The third wheel must be 1 foot 4 inches
diameter, and fixed within six inches of the top of the post: the wheels
being fixed, take 18 four or eight oz. cases of brilliant fire, and place
them round the first wheel with their mouths outwards, and inclining
downwards; on the second wheel place 13 cases of the same, and in
the same manner as those on the first; on the third, place 8 more of
these case, in the same manner as before; and on the top of the post
fix a gerbe; then clothe all the cases with leaders, so that both they
and the gerbe may take fire at the same time. Before you fire this
work, try it in the water to see if the float is properly made, so as to
keep the fountain upright.
1
CHAP. XXI.
AEROSTATION AND AIR-BALLOONS,
We have already mentioned the theory of air-balloons, in our essay
on hydrostatics, but the subject is too curious and important to be so
easily dismissed. We proceed then to observe, that the air-balloon
consists merely of a bag filled with air so light, that it together with the
bag, forms a mass which is specifically lighter than the common at-
mosphere. A cubic foot of common air is found to weigh above 554
grains, and to be expanded by every degree of heat marked on Fab-
renheit's thermometers about one fiftieth part of the whole.
By heat-
ing a quantity of air, therefore, to 200 degrees of Fahrenheit, you will
just double its bulk, when the thermometer stands at 54 in the open
air; and in the same proportion you will diminish its weights. And if
such a quantity of this hot air be inclosed in a bag that the excess of
the weight of an equal bulk of common air weighs more than the bag
with the air contained in it, both the bag and the air will rise into the
atmosphere, and continue to do so till they arrive at a place where the
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AEROSTATION.
K
external air is naturally so much rarefied that the weight becomes
equal, and the whole will float.
·
The power with which hot air is impelled upwards may be shewn by
the following experiment: Roll up a sheet of paper in a conical form, and
by thrusting a pin into it near the apex, prevent it from unrolling ;
fasten it then by its apex, under one of the scales of a balance, by
means of a thread, and having properly counterpoised it by weights
put into the opposite scale, apply the flame of a candle underneath,
and you will instantly see the cone rise: and it will not be brought in-
to equilibrium with the other, but by a much greater weight than
those who have not seen the experiment would believe.
If the magnitude of a balloon be overrated, its power of ascension, or
the difference between the weights of the included air, and an equal
bulk of common air, will be augmented in the same proportion. For
its thickness being supposed the same, it is as the surface it covers, or
only as the square of the diameter. This is the reason why balloons
cannot be made to ascend if under a given magnitude, when composed
of cloth or materials of the same thickness.
The romances of almost every nation have recorded instances of
persons being carried through the air, both by the agency of spirits
and by mechanical inventions; but, till the time of the celebrated
lord Bacon, no rational principle appears ever to have been thought of
by which this might be accomplished. Before that time, indeed,
friar Bacon had written upon the subject; and many had been of
opinion, that, by means of artificial wings, fixed to the arms or legs, a
man might fly as well as a bird: but these opinions were thoroughly
refuted by Borelli, in his treatise De Motu Animalium, where, from a
comparison between the power of the muscles which move the wings
of a bird, and those which move the arms of a man, he demonstrates
that the latter are utterly insufficient to strike the air with such force as
to raise him from the ground. It cannot be denied, however, that
wings of this kind, if properly constructed, and dexterously managed,
might be sufficient to break the fall of a human body from an high
place, so that some adventurers in this way might possibly come off with
safety; though by far the greatest number of those who have rashly
adopted such schemes have either lost their lives or limbs in the
attempt.
In the year 1672, bishop Wilkins published a treatise, intitled,
"The Discovery of the New World ;" in which he mentions, though
in a very indistinct and confused manner, the two principles on which
the air is navigable; quoting, from Albertus, de Saxonia and Francis
Mendoca," that the air is in some part of it navigable; and upon this
static principle, any brass, or iron vessel (suppose a kettle), whose sub-
stance is much heavier than that of water, yet being filled with the
lighter air, it will swim upon it and not sink. So suppose a cup or
wooden vessel upon the outward borders of this elementary air, the ca-
pacity of it being filled with fire, or rather ethereal air, it must neces
sarily, upon the same ground, remain swimming there, and of itself
can no more fall than an empty ship can sink." This idea, however,
he did not by any means pursue, but rested his hopes entirely upon
mechanical motions, to be accomplished by the mere strength of a man,
or by springs, &c. and which have been demonstrated incapable of
answering any useful purpose.
•
AA

ร
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AEROSTATION."
627
•

The only person who brought this scheme of flying to any kind of
rational principle was the Jesuit Francis Lana, contemporary with bishop
Wilkins. He, being acquainted with the real weight of the atmosphere,
justly concluded, that, if a globular vessel were exhausted of air, it
would weigh less than before; and, considering that the solid contents
of vessels increase in much greater proportion than their surfaces, he
supposes that a metalline vessel might be made so large, that, when
emptied of its air, it would be able not only to raise itself in the atmos-
phere, but to carry up passengers along with it; and he made a num→
ber of calculations necessary for putting the project in execution. But,
though the theory was here unexceptionable, the means proposed were
certainly insufficient to accomplish the end: for a vessel of copper, made
so thin as was necessary to make it float in the atmosphere, would be
utterly unable to resist the external pressure; which being demonstrated
by those skilled in mechanics, no attempt was made on that principle.
In the year 1709, however, as we were informed by a letter published
in France in 1784, a Portuguese projector, friar Gusman, applied to the
king for encouragement to his invention of a flying machine. The
principle on which this was constructed, if indeed it had any principle,
seems to have been that of the paper kite. The machine was constructed
in form of a bird, and contained several tubes through which the wind
was to pass, in order to fill a kind of sails, which were to elevate it;
and when the wind was deficient, the same effect was to be performed by
means of bellows concealed within the body of the machine. The ascent
was also to be promoted by the electric attraction of pieces of amber
placed in the top, and by two spheres inclosing magnets in the same
situation.


These childish inventions shew the low state of science at that time
in Portugal, especially as the king, in order to encourage him to far-
ther exertions in such a useful invention, granted him the first vacant
place in his college of Barcelos or Santarem, with the first professorship
in the university of Coimbra, and an annual pension of 600,000 reis
during his life. Of this De Gusman it is also related, that, in the year
1736, he made a wicker basket of about seven or eight feet diameter,
and covered it with paper, which raised itself about 200 feet in the air,
and the effect was generally attributed to witchcraft,


In the year 1766, Mr. Henry Cavendish ascertained the weight and
other properties of inflammable air, determining it to be at least seven
times lighter than common air. Soon after which, it occurred to Dr.
Black, that, perhaps a thin bag filled with inflammable air might be
buoyed up by the common atmosphere; and he thought of having the
allantois of a calf prepared for this purpose: but his other avocations
prevented him from prosecuting the experiment. The same thought
occurred some years afterwards to Mr. Cavallo; and he has the honour
of being the first who made experiments on the subject. He first tried
bladders; but the thinnest of these, however well scraped and prepared,
were found too heavy. He then tried Chinese paper; but that proved
se permeable, that the vapour passed through it like water through a
sieve. His experiments, therefore, made in the year 1782, proceeded
no farther than blowing up soap-bubbles with inflammable air, which
ascended rapidly to the ceiling, and broke against it.
But, while the discovery of the art of aerostation seemed thus on the
point of being made in Britain, it was all at once announced in France,

623
AEROSTATION.
1
and that from a quarter whence nothing of the kind was to have been
expected Two brothers, Stephen and John Montgolfier, natives of
Annonay, and masters of a considerable paper-manufactory there, had
turned their thoughts towards this project as early as the middle of the
year 1782. The idea was first suggested by the natural ascent of the
smoke and clouds in the atmosphere; and their design was to form an
artificial cloud, by inclosing the smoke in a bag, and making it carry up
the covering along with it. Towards the middle of November that year,
the experiment was made at Avignon, with a fine silk bag of a parallel-
opipid shape. By applying burning paper to the lower aperture, the
air was rarefied, and the bag ascended in the atmosphere, and struck
rapidly against the ceiling. On repeating the experiment in the open
air, it rose to the height of about seventy feet.
An experiment on a more enlarged scale was now projected; and a
new machine, containing about 650 cubic feet, was made, which broke
the cords that confined it, and rose to the height of about 600 feet. An-
other of thirty-five feet in diameter rose about 1000 feet high, and fell
to the ground three quarters of a mile from the place where it ascended.
A public exhibition was next made on the fifth of June 1783, at An-
nonay, where a vast number of spectators assembled. An immense bag
of linen, lined with paper, and containing upwards of 23,000 cubic feet,
was found to have a power of lifting about 500lbs. including its own
weight. The operation was begun by burning chopped straw and wool
under the aperture of the machine, which immediately began to swell;
and after being set at liberty ascended into the atmosphere. In ten
minutes it had ascended 6000 feet; and, when its force was exhausted, it
fell to the ground at the distance of 7668 feet from the place whence it
·
set out.
*
Soon after this one of the brothers arrived at Faris, where he was in-
vited by the academy of sciences to repeat his experiments at their ex-
pence. In consequence of this invitation, he constructed, in a garden
in the fauxbourg of St. Germain, a large balloon of an elliptical form.
In a preliminary experiment, this machine lifted up from the ground
eight persons who held it, and would have carried them all off if more
had not immediately come to their assistance. Next day the experiment.
was repeated in presence of the members of the academy; the machine.
was filled by the combustion of fifty pounds of straw made up in small
bundles, upon which about twelve pounds of chopped wool were thrown
at intervals. The usual success attended this exhibition. The machine
soon swelled; endeavoured to ascend; and immediately after sustained
itself in the air, together with the charge of between 400 and 500
pounds weight. It was evident that it would have ascended to a great
height; but, as it was designed to repeat the experiment before the king
and royal family at Versailles, the cords by which it was tied down were
not cut. But, in consequence of a violent rain and wind which happen-
ed at this time, the machine was so far damaged, that it became neces-
sary to prepare a new one for the time that it had been determined to
honour the experiment with the royal presence; and such expedition
was used, that this vast machine, of near sixty feet in height, and forty-
three in diameter, was made, painted with water-colours both within
and without, and finely decorated, in no more than four days and four
nights. Along with this machine was sent a wicker cage, containing a
sheep, a cock, and a duck, which were the first animals ever sent through
+
1.
AEROSTATION.
629
{
the atmosphere. The full success of the experiment was prevented by
a violent gust of wind, which tore the cloth in two places near the top
before it ascended. However, it rose to the height of 1440 feet; and,
after remaining in the air about eight minutes, fell to the ground at the
distance of 10,200 feet from the place of its setting out. The animals
were not in the least hurt.
The great power of these aerostatic machines, and their very gradual
descent in falling to the ground, had originally shewed that they were
capable of transporting people through the air with all imaginable safe-
ty; and this was further confirmed by the experiment already mention-
ed. As M. Montgolfier, therefore, proposed to make a new aerostatic
machine of a firmer and better construction than the former, M. Pilatre
de Rozier offered himself to be the first aerial adventurer.
This new machine was constructed in a garden in the fauxbourg of
St. Antoine. It was of an oval shape, about forty-eight in diameter, and
seventy-four in height; elegantly painted on the outside with the signs
of the zodiac, cyphers of the king's name, and other ornaments. A
proper gallery, grate, &c. were appended in the manner afterwards de-
scribed; so that it was easy for the person who ascended to supply the
fire with fuel, and thus keep up the machine as long as he pleased. The
weight of the whole apparatus was upwards of 1600lbs. The experi-
ment was peformed on the 15th of October 1783. M. Pilatre having
placed himself in the gallery, the machine was înflated, and permitted
to ascend to the height of eighty-four feet, where he kept it afloat for
about four minutes and a half; after which it descended very gently:
and such was its tendency to ascend, that it rebounded to a consider-
able height after touching the ground. Two days after, he repeated the
experiment with the same success as before; but, the wind being strong,
the machine did not sustain itself so well as formerly. On repeating the
experiment in calmer weather, he ascended to the height of 210 feet.
His next ascent was 262 feet; and, in the descent, a gust of wind hav-
ing blown the machine over some large trees of an adjoining garden, M.
Pilatre suddenly extricated himself from so dangerous a situation, by
throwing straw and chopped wool on the fire, which raised him at once
to a sufficient height. Ôn descending again, he once more raised him-
self to a proper height by throwing straw on the fire. Some time after,
he ascended in company with M. Girond de Vilette to the height of 330
feet; hovering over Paris at least nine minutes in sight of all the inha-
bitants, and the machine keeping all the while perfectly steady.
These experiments had shewn, that the aerostatic machines might be
raised or lowered at the pleasure of the persons who ascended: they had
likewise discovered, that the keeping them fast with the ropes was no
advantage; but, on the contrary, this was attended with inconvenience
and hazard. On the 21st of November 1783, therefore, M. Pilatre de-
termined to undertake an aerial voyage in which the machine should be
fully set at liberty. Every thing being got in readiness, the balloon was
filled in a few minutes; and M. Pilatre placed himself in the gallery,
counterpoised by the marquis d'Arlandes, who occupied the other side.
It was intended to make some preliminary experiments on the ascending
power of the machine: but the violence of the wind prevented this from
being done, and even damaged the balloon essentially; so that it would
have been entirely destroyed had not timely assistance been given. The
extraordinary exertions of the workmen, however, repaired it again in



6:30
AEROSTATION.
6
T
two hours, and the adventurers set out. They met with no inconveni-
ence during their voyage, which lasted about twenty-five minutes;
during which time they had passed over the space of above five miles.
From the account given by the marquis d'Arlandes it appears, that they
met with several different currents of air; the effect of which was, to give
a very sensible shock to the machine, and the direction of the motion
seemed to be from the upper part downwards. It appears also, that
they were in some danger of having the balloon burnt altogether; as the
marquis observed several round holes made by the fire in the lower part
of it, which alarmed him considerably, and indeed not without reason.
However, the progress of the fire was easily stopped by the application
of a wet sponge, and all appearance of danger ceased in a very short
time.

This voyage of M. Pilatre and the marquis d'Arlandes may be said to
conclude the history of those aerostatic machines which are elevated by
means of fire; for, though many other attempts have been made upon
the same principle, most of them have either proved unsuccessful, or
were of little consequence. They therefore gave place to the other
kind, filled with inflammable air; which, by reason of its smaller specific
gravity, is both more manageable, and capable of performing voyages
of greater length, as it does not require to be supplied with fuel like the
others. This was invented in a very short time after the discovery had
been made by M. Montgolfier. This gentleman had indeed designed to
keep his method in some degree a secret from the world; but, as it could
not be concealed, that a bag filled with any kind of fluid lighter than
the common atmosphere would rise in it, inflammable air was naturally
thought of as a proper succedaneum for the rarefied air of M. Montgol-
fier. The first experiment was made by two brothers, Messrs. Roberts,
and M. Charles, a professor of experimental philosophy. The bag which
contained the gas was composed of lute-string, varnished over with a
solution of the elastic gum called caoutchouc; and that with which they
made their first essay was only about thirteen English feet in diameter.
Many difficulties occurred in filling it with the inflammable air, chiefly
owing to their ignorance of the proper apparatus; insomuch, that, after
a whole day's labour from nine in the morning, they had got the bal-
loon only one third part full. Next morning they were surprised to
find that it had fully inflated of itself during the night: but, upon in-
quiry, it was found, that they had inadvertently left open a stop-cock
connected with the balloon, by which the common air, gaining ac
cess, had mixed itself with the inflammable air; forming a compound
still lighter than the common atmosphere, but not sufficiently light to
answer the purposes of aerostation. Thus they were obliged to renew
their operation; and, by six o'clock in the evening of the next day, they
found the machine considerably lighter than the common air; and, in an
hour after, it made a considerable effort to ascend. The public exhibi-
tion, however, had been announced only for the third day after; so that
the balloon was allowed to remain in an inflated state for a whole day;
during which they found it had lost a power of ascent equal to about
three pounds, being one-seventh part of the whole. When it was at
last set at liberty, after having been well filled with inflammable air, it
was thirty-five pounds lighter than an equal bulk of common air. It re-
mained in the atmosphere only three quarters of an hour, during which
it had traversed fifteen miles. Its sudden descent was supposed to have
>


AEROSTATION.
631
C
been owing to a rupture which had taken place when it ascended into the
higher regions of the atmosphere.
The success of this experiment, and the aerial voyage made by Messrs.
Rozier and Arlandes, naturally suggested the idea of undertaking
something of the same kind with a balloon filled with inflammable air.
The machine used on this occasion was formed of gores of silk, covered
over with a varnish made of caoutchouc, of a spherical figure, and mea-
suring twenty-seven feet and a half in diameter. A net was spread over
the upper hemisphere, and was fastened to an hoop which passed round
the middle of the balloon. To this a sort of car, or rather boat, was
suspended by ropes, in such a manner as to hang a few feet below the
lower part of the balloon; and, in order to prevent the bursting of the
machine, a valve was placed in it; by opening of which some of the in-
flammable air might be occasionally let out. A long silken pipe com-
municated with the balloon, by means of which it was filled. The
boat was made of basket-work, covered with painted linen, and beauti-
fully ornamented; being eight feet long, four broad, and three and a
half deep; its weight 130 pounds. At this time, however, as at the
former, they met with great difficulties in filling the machine with in-
flammable air, owing to their ignorance of the most proper apparatus.
But at last,' all obstacles being removed, the two adventurers took their
seats at three quarters after one in the afternoon of the 1st of December
1798. Persons skilled in the mathematics were conveniently stationed
with proper instruments to calculate the height, velocity, &c. of the
balloon. The weight of the whole apparatus, including that of the two
adventurers, was found to be 6044 pounds, and the power of ascent
when they set out was twenty pounds; so that the whole difference be-
twixt the weight of this balloon and an equal bulk of common air was
624 pounds. But the weight of common atmosphere displaced by the
inflammable gas was calculated to be 771 pounds, so that there remains
147 for the weight of the latter; and this calculation makes it only five
times and a quarter lighter than common air.
At the time the balloon left the ground, the thermometer stood at 9º
of Fahrenheit's scale, and the quicksilver in the barometer at 30.18
inches; and, by means of the power of ascent with which they left the
ground, the balloon rose till the mercury fell to twenty-seven inches,
from which they calculated their height to be about 600 yards. By
throwing out ballast occasionally as they found the machine descending
by the escape of some of the inflammable air, they found it practicable
to keep at pretty near the same distance from the earth during the rest
of their voyage; the quicksilver fluctuating between 27.0 and 27.65
inches, and the thermometer between 53° and 57°, the whole time.
They continued in the air for the space of an hour and three quarters,
when they alighted at the distance of twenty-seven miles from Paris;
having suffered no inconvenience during their voyage, nor experienced
any contrary currents of air, as had been felt by Messrs. Pilatre and Ar-
landes. As the balloon still retained a great quantity of inflammable gas,
M. Charles determined to take another voyage by himself. M. Robert
accordingly got out of the boat, which was thus lightened by 130 pounds,
and of consequence the aerostatic machine now had nearly as much
power of ascent. Thus he was carried up with such velocity, that in
twenty minutes he was almost 9000 feet high, and entirely out of sight
of terrestrial objects. • At the moment of his parting with the ground,
•
/


632
AEROSTATION.
7
*
F
the globe had been rather flaccid; but it soon began to swell, and the
inflammable air escaped from it in great quantity through the silken tube.
He also frequently drew the valve, that it might be the more freely
emitted, and the balloon effectually prevented from bursting. The in-
flammable gas, being considerably warmer than the external air, diffused
itself all round, and was felt like a warm atmosphere: but in ten minutes
the thermometer indicated a variation of temperature as great as that
between the warmth of spring and the ordinary cold of winter. His
fingers were benumbed by the cold, and he felt a violent pain in his right
ear and jaw, which he ascribed to the dilatation of the air in these organs,
as well as to the external cold. The beauty of the prospect which he
now enjoyed, however, made amends for these inconveniences. At his
departure the sun was set on the valleys; but the height to which M.
Charles was got in the atmosphere rendered him again visible, though
only for a short time. He saw, for a few seconds, vapours rising from
the valleys and rivers. The clouds seemed to ascend from the earth,
and collect one upon the other, still preserving their usual form; only
their colour was grey and monotonous for want of sufficient light in the
atmosphere. By the light of the moon he perceived that the machine
was turning round with him in the air; and he observed that there were
contrary currents which brought him back again. He observed also,
with surprise, the effects of the wind, and that the streamers of his ban-
ners pointed upwards; which, he says, could not be the effect either of
his ascent or descent, as he was moving horizontally at the time. At
last, recollecting his promise of returning to his friends in half an hour,
he pulled the valve, and accelerated his descent. When within 200 feet
of the earth, he threw out two or three pounds of ballast, which ren-
dered the balloon again stationary; but, in a little time afterwards, he
gently alighted in a field about three miles distant from the place whence
he set out; though, by making allowances for all the turnings and wind-
ings of the voyage, he supposes that he had gone through nine miles at
least. By the calculations of M. de Maunier, he rose at this time not
less than 10,500 feet high; a height somewhat greater than that of
Mount Etna. A small balloon, which had been sent off before the two
brothers set out on their voyage, took a direction opposite to that of the
large one, having met with an opposite current of air, probably at a
much greater height.
•
The subsequent aerial voyages differ so little from that just now re-
lated, that any particular description of them seems to be superfluous.
It had occurred to M. Charles, however, in his last flight, that there
might be a possibility of directing the machine in the atmosphere; and
this was soon attempted by M. Jean Pierre Blanchard, a gentleman who
had, for several years before, amused himself with endeavours to fly by
mechanical means, though he had never succeeded in the undertaking.
As soon as the discovery of the aerostatic machines was announced, how-
ever, he resolved to add the wings of his former machine to a balloon,
and made no doubt that it would then be in his power to direct himself
through the air at pleasure. In his first attempt he was frustrated by
the impetuosity of a young gentleman, who insisted, right or wrong,
on ascending along with him. In the scuffle which ensued on this
occasion, the wings and other apparatus were entirely destroyed; so
that M. Blanchard was obliged to commit himself to the direction of the
wind; and in another attempt it was found, that all the strength he
"
•
f
I

AEROSTATION.
633
could apply to the wings was scarcely sufficient to counteract the im-
pression of the wind in any degree. In his voyage, he found his bal-
loon, at a certain period, acted upon by two contrary winds; but, on
throwing out four pounds of ballast, he ascended to a place where he met
with the same current he had at setting out from the earth. His ac-
count of the sensations he felt during this voyage was somewhat diffe-
rent from that of M. Charles; having, in one part of it, found the at-
mosphere very warm, in another cold; and having once found himself
very hungry, and at another time almost overcome by a propensity to
sleep. The height to which he rose, as measured by several observa-
tions with mathematical instruments, was thought to be very little less
than 10,000 feet; and he remained in the atmosphere an hour and a
quarter.
The attempts of M. Blanchard to direct his machine through the at-
mosphere were repeated in the month of April 1784, by Messrs. Morveau
and Bertrand, at Dijon, who raised themselves in an inflammable air
balloon to the height, as it was thought, of 13,000 feet; passing through
a space of eighteen miles in an hour and twenty-five minutes. M. Mor-
veau had prepared a kind of oars for directing the machine through the
air; but they were damaged by a gust of wind, so that only two of them
remained serviceable; by working these, however, they were able to
produce a sensible effect on the motion of the machine.
In a third aerial voyage performed by Mr. Blanchard, he seemed to
produce some effect by the agitation of his wings, both in ascending,
descending, moving sideways, and even in some measure against the
wind; however, this is supposed, with some probability, to have been
a mistake, as, in all his succeeding voyages, the effects of his machinery
could not be perceived.
The success of Messrs. Charles and Robert in their former experi-
ments encouraged them soon to repeat them, with the addition of some
machinery to direct their course. Having enlarged their former balloon
to an -oblong, spheriod, forty-six feet and three quarters long and
twenty-seven and a half in diameter, they made its float with its longest
part parallel to the horizon. The wings were made in the shape of an
umbrella without the handle, to the top of which a stick was fastened
parallel to the aperture of the umbrella. Five of these were disposed
round the boat, which was near seventeen feet in length. The balloon
was filled in three hours, and, with the addition of 450 pounds of ballast,
remained in equilibrio with the atmosphere. About noon, on the 19th
of September 1784, they began to ascend very gently in consequence
of throwing out twenty-four pounds of ballast, but were soon obliged to
throw out eight pounds more in order to avoid running against some
trees. Thus they rose to the height of 1400 feet, when they perceived
some thunder-clouds near the horizon. On this they ascended and de-
scended, to avoid the danger, as the wind blew directly towards the
threatening clouds; but, from the height of 600 feet to that of 4200
above the surface of the earth, the current was quite uniform and in one
direction. During their voyage they lost one of their oars; but found,
that by means of those which remained they considerably accelerated
their course.
From the account of their voyage, it should seem that
they had passed safely through the thunder-clouds; as we are informed,
that, about forty minutes after three, they heard a loud clap of thunder;
and, three minutes after, another much louder; at which time the ther-
4 M
1



5
634
AEROSTATION.
mometer sunk from 77° to 59°. This sudden cold, occasioned by the
approach of the clouds, condensed the inflammable air so that the bal-
loon descended very low, and they were obliged to throw out forty
pounds of ballast; yet, on examining the heat of the air within the bal-
loon, they found it to be 1049, when that of the external atmosphere
was only 630. When they had got so high that the mercury in the
barometer stood only at 23.94 inches, they found themselves becalmed;
so that the machine did not go even at the rate of two feet in a second,
though it had before gone at the rate of twenty-four feet in a second.
On this they determined to try the effect of their oars to the utmost;
and, by working them for thirty-five minutes, and, marking the shadow
of the balloon on the ground, they found, in that time, that they had
described the segment of an ellipsis whose longest diameter was 6000
feet. After they had travelled about 150 miles, they descended, only
on account of the approach of night, having still 200 pounds of ballast
left.
Their conclusion, with regard to the effect of their wings, is as fol-
lows:-" Those experiments shew, that far from going against the wind,
as is said by some persons to be possible in a certain manner, and some
aeronauts pretend to have actually done, we only obtained, by means
of two oars, a deviation of twenty-two degrees: it is certain, however,
that, if we could have used our four oars, we might have deviated about
forty degrees from the direction of the wind, and, as our machine
would have been capable of carrying seven persons, it would have been
easy for five persons to have gone, and to have put in action eight oars,
by means of which a deviation of about eighty degrees would have been
obtained.
"We had already observed (say they), that, if we did not deviate
more than twenty-two degrees, it was because the wind carried us at
the rate of twenty-four miles an hour; and it is natural to judge, that,
if the wind had been twice as strong as it was, we should not have de-
viated more than one-half of what we actually did; and, on the contrary,
if the wind had been only half as strong, our deviation would have been
proportionably greater.
Having thus related all that has been done with regard to the con-
ducting of aerostatic machines through the atmosphere, we shall now
relate the attempts that have been made to lessen their expence, by
falling upon some contrivance to ascend without throwing out ballast,
and to descend without losing any of the inflammable air. The first at-
tempt of this kind was made by the duke de Chartres; who, on the 15th
of July 1784, ascended with the two brothers, Charles and Robert, from
the park of St. Cloud. The balloon was of an oblong form, made to
ascend with its longest diameter horizontally, and measured fifty-five
feet in length and twenty-four in breadth. It contained within it a
smaller balloon which was filled with common atmospheric air; by
blowing into which with a pair of bellows, and thus throwing in a
considerable quantity of common air, it was supposed that the machine
would become sufficiently heavy to descend, especially as, by the infla-
tion of the internal bag, the inflammable air in the external one would
be condensed into a smaller space, and thus become specifically heavier.
The voyage, however, was attended with such circumstances as ren-
dered it impossible to know what would have been the event of the
scheme. The power of ascent with which they set out seems to have
·
AEROSTATION.
€95

been very great; as, in three minutes after parting with the ground, they
were lost in the clouds, and involved in such a dense vapour that they
could see neither the sky nor the earth. In this situation they seemed
to be attacked by a whirlwind, which, besides turning the balloon three
times round from right to left, shocked and beat it so about, that they
were rendered incapable of using any of the means proposed for direct-
ing their course, and the silk stuff of which the helm had been com-
posed was even torn away. No scene can be conceived more terrible
than that in which they were now involved, An immense ocean of
shapeless clouds rolled one upon another below them, and seemed to
prevent any return to the earth, which still continued invisible, while
the agitation of the balloon became greater every moment.
In this ex-
tremity they cut the cords which held the interior balloon, and of con-
sequence it fell down upon the aperture of the tube that came from the
large balloon into the boat, and stopped it up. They were then driven
upwards by a gust of wind from below, which carried them to the top of
that stormy vapour in which they had been involved. They now saw the
sun without a cloud; but the heat of his rays, with the diminished
density of the atmosphere, had such an effect on the inflammable air,
that the balloon seemed every moment ready to burst. To prevent this
they introduced a stick through the tube, in order to push away the
inner balloon from its aperture; but the expansion of the inflammable
air pushed it so close, that all attempts of this kind proved ineffectual.
It was now, however, become absolutely necessary to give vent to a very
considerable quantity of the inflammable air; for which purpose the
duke de Chartres himself bored two holes in the balloon, which tore
open for the length of seven or eight feet. On this they descended with
great rapidity; and would have fallen into a lake, had they not hastily
thrown out sixty pounds of ballast, which enabled them just to reach
the water's edge.

The success of the scheme for raising or lowering aerostatic machines
by means of bags filled with common air being thus rendered dubious,
another method was thought of. This was to put a small aerostatic ma-
chine with rarefied air under an inflammable air-balloon, but at such a
distance that the inflammable air of the latter might be perfectly out of
the reach of the fire used for inflating the former; and thus, by increas-
ing or diminishing the fire in the small machine, the absolute weight of
the whole would be considerably diminished or augmented. This
scheme was unhappily put in execution by the celebrated M. Pilatre de
Rozier, and another gentleman named M. Romaine. Their inflammable-
air-balloon was about thirty-seven feet in diameter, and the power of
the rarefied-air one was equivalent to about sixty pounds. They ascended
without any appearance of danger or sinister accident; but had not been
long in the atmosphere when the inflammable air-balloon was seen to
swell very considerably, at the same time that the aeronauts were ob-
served, by means of telescopes, very anxious to get down, and busied
in pulling the valve and opening the appendages to the balloon in order
to facilitate the escape of as much inflammable air as possible. A short
time after this the whole machine was on fire, when they had then at-
tained the height of about three quarters of a mile from the ground. No
explosion was heard; and the silk which composed the air-balloon con-
tinued expanded, and seemed to resist the atmosphere, for about a mi-
nute; after which it collapsed, and the remains of the apparatus de-
-
}
626
AEROSTATION.
#
¦
scended along with the two unfortunate travellers so rapidly, that both
of them were killed. M. Pilatre seemed to have been dead before he
came to the ground; but M. Romaine was alive when some persons
came up to the place where he lay, though he expired immediately
after.
-
Of all the voyages which had been hitherto projected or put in execu-
tion, the most daring was that of M. Blanchard and Dr. Jeffries across
the straights of Dover, which separate England from France. This
took place on the 7th of January 1785, being a clear frosty morning,
with a wind barely perceptible; at N. N. W. The operation of filling
the balloon began at ten o'clock, and, at three quarters after twelve,
every thing was ready for their departure. At one o'clock M. Blan-
chard desired the boat to be pushed off, which now stood only two feet
distant from that precipice so finely described by Shakspeare in his
tragedy of King Lear. As the balloon was scarcely sufficient to carry
two, they were obliged to throw out all their ballast except three bags
of ten pounds each; when they at last rose gently, though making very
little way on account of there being so little wind. At a quarter after
one o'clock, the barometer, which on the cliff stood at 29.7 inches, was
now fallen to 27.3, and the weather proved fine and warm. They had
now a most beautiful prospect of the south coast of England, and were
able to count thirty-seven villages upon it. After passing over several
vessels, they found that the balloon, at fifty minutes after one, was de-
scending, on which they threw out a sack and a half of ballast; but, as
they saw that it still descended, and that with much greater velocity
than before, they now threw out all the ballast. This still proving in-
effectual, they next threw out a parcel of books they carried along with
them, which made the balloon ascend when they were about midway
betwixt France and England. At a quarter past two, finding themselves
again descending, they threw away the remainder of their books, and,
ten minutes after, they had a most enchanting prospect of the French
Still, however, the machine descended; and, as they had now
no more ballast, they were fain to throw away their provisions for eat-
ing, the wings of their boat, and every other moveable they could easily
spare. "We threw away (says Dr. Jeffries) our only bottle, which, in
its descent, cast out a steam like smoke, with a rushing noise; and,
when it struck the water, we heard and felt the shock very perceptibly
on our car and balloon." All this proving insufficient to stop the descent
of the balloon, they next threw out their anchors and cords, and, at last,
stripped off their clothes, fastening themselves to certain slings, and in-
tending to cut away their boat, as their last resource. They had now
the satisfaction, however, to find that they were rising, and as they
passed over the high lands, between Cape Blank and Calais, the ma-
chine rose very fast, and carried them to a greater height than they had
been at any former part of their voyage. They descended safely among
some trees in the forest of Guiennes, where there was just sufficient
opening to admit them.
coast.
+
On the 8th of September, 1785, at forty minutes past one, p. m..
Mr. Baldwin ascended from Chester in M. Lunardi's balloon. After.
traversing in a variety of different directions, he first alighted, at
twenty-eight minutes after three, about twelve miles from Chester, in
the neighbourhood of Frodsham; then re-ascending, and pursuing his
excursion, he finally landed at Rixton Moss, five miles N. N. É. of
،
**

7
?
L
637
AEROSTATION.
Wavington, and twenty-five miles from Chester. Mr. Baldwin has
published his Observations and Remarks made during his voyage, and
the following are some of the most important and curious:
"The sen-
sation of ascending is compared to that of a strong pressure from the
bottom of the car upwards against the soles of his feet. At the dis-
tance of what appeared to him seven miles from the earth, though by
the barometer scarcely a mile and a half, he had a grand and most en-
chanting view of the city of Chester, and its adjacent places below.
The river Dee appeared of a red colour; the city very diminutive; ana
the town entirely blue. The whole appeared a perfect plain, the
highest building having no apparent height, but reduced all to the
same level, and the whole terrestrial prospect appeared like a coloured
map. Just after his first ascent, being in a well-watered and maritime
part of the country, he observed a remarkable and regular tendency of
the balloon towards the sea; but shortly after, rising into another cur-
rent of air, he escaped the danger: this upper current, he says, was
visible to him at the time of his ascent, by a lofty sound stratum of
clouds flying in a safe direction. The perspective appearance of things
to him was very remarkable. The lowest bed of vapour that first ap-
peared as cloud was pure white, in detached fleeces, increasing as they
rose; they presently coalesced, and formed, as he expresses it, a sea of
cotton, tufting here and there by the action of the air in the undisturb-
ed part of the clouds. The whole became an extended white floor of
cloud, the upper surface being smooth and even. Above this white
floor he observed, at great and unequal distances, a vast assemblage of
thunder-clouds, each parcel consisting of whole acres in the densest
form: he compares their form and appearance to the smoke of pieces of
ordnance, which had consolidated as it were into masses of snow, and
penetrated through the upper surface or white floor of common clouds,
there remaining visible and at rest. Some clouds had motions in slow
and various directions, forming an appearance truly stupendous and
majestic. He endeavours to convey some idea of the scene by a figure
which represents a circular view he had from the car of the balloon,
himself being over the centre of the view, looking down on the
white floor of clouds, and seeing the city of Chester through an opening,
which discovered the landscape below, limited by surrounding vapour
to less than two miles in diameter. Mr. Baldwin also gives a curi-
ous description of his tracing the shadow of the balloon over tops of
volumes of clouds. At first it was small, in shape and size like
an egg; but soon increased to the magnitude of the sun's disc, still
growing larger, and attended with a most captivating appearance of an
iris encircling the whole shadow at some distance round it, the colours
of which were remarkably brilliant. The regions did not feel colder,
but rather warmer than below. The sun was hottest to him when the
balloon was stationary. The discharge of a cannon, when the balloon
was at a considerable height, was distinctly heard by the aeronaut; and
a discharge from the same piece, when at the height of thirty yards, so
disturbed him as to oblige him for safety to lay hold firmly of the cords
of the balloon. At a considerable height he poured down a pint bottle
full of water; and, as the air did not oppose a resistance sufficient to
break the stream into small drops, it mostly fell down in large drops.
In the course of the balloon's track it was found much affected by the
water (a circumstance observed in former aerial voyages.) At one time
•
4
1

638
AEROSTATION.
A
i
C
·
the direction of the balloon kept continually over the water, going di-
rectly towards the sea, so much as to endanger the aeronaut; the mouth
of the balloon was opened, and he in two minutes descended into an
under-current blowing from the sea: he kept descending, and landed
at Bellair farm in Rinsley, twelve miles from Chester. Here he light-
ened his car by thirty-one pounds, and, instantly re-ascending, was
carried into the anterior part of the country, performing a number of
different manœuvres. At his greatest altitude he found his respiration
free and easy. Several bladders which he had along with him crackled
and expanded very considerably. Clouds and land, as before, appear-
ed on the same level. By way of experiment, he tried the upper valve
two or three times, the neck of the balloon being close; and remarked
that the escape of the gas was attended with a growling noise like
millstones, but not near so loud. Again, round the shadow of the bal-
loon, on the clouds, he observed the iris. A variety of other circum-
stances and appearances he met with, which are fancifully described
and at fifty-three minutes after three he finally landed."
;
The frequency of aerial voyages, accompanied with particular de-
tails of trifling and uninteresting circumstances, and apparently made
with a view to promote the interest of particular persons, regardless of
any advancement in knowledge, have now sunk the science of aerosta-
tion so low in the opinion of most people, that, before giving any ac-
count of the most proper method of constructing these machines, it may
seem necessary to premise something concerning the uses to which they
may possibly be applied. These, according to Mr. Cavallo, are the fol-
lowing:

-


"The small balloons, especially those made of paper, and raised by
means of spirit of wine, may serve to explore the direction of the winds
in the upper regions of the atmosphere, particularly when it is calm
below: they may serve for signals in various circumstances, in which
no other means can be used; and letters or other small things may be
easily sent by them, as for instance from ships that cannot safely land
on account of storms, from besieged places, islands, or the like. The
larger aerostatic machines may answer all the above-mentioned pur-
poses in a better manner; and they may, besides, be used as a help to
a person who wants to ascend a mountain, a precipice, or to cross a
river; and perhaps one of those machines, tied to a boat by a long
rope, may be, in some cases, a better sort of sail than any that is used
at present. The largest sort of machines, which can take up one or
more men, may evidently be subservient to various economical and phi-
losophical purposes. Their conveying people from place to place with
great swiftness, and without trouble, may be of essential use, even if
the art of guiding them in a direction different from that of the wind
should never be discovered. By means of those machines the shape of
certain seas and lands may be better ascertained; men may ascend to
the tops of mountains they never visited before; they may be carried
over marshy and dangerous grounds; they may by that means come
out of a besieged place, or an island; and they may, in hot climates,
ascend to a cold region of the atmosphere, either to refresh themselves,
or to observe the ice, which is never seen below; and, in short, they
may be thus taken to several places, to which human art hitherto
knew of no conveyance.
"The philosophical uses to which these machines may be subser..
AEROSTATION.
639
vient are numerous indeed; and it may be sufficient to say, that hardly
any thing which passes in the atmosphere is known with precision, and
that principally for want of a method of ascending into it. The for-
mation of rain, of thunder-storms, of vapours, hail, snow, and meteors
in general, require to be attentively examined and ascertained. The
action of the barometer, the refraction and temperature of the air in va-
rious regions, the descent of bodies, the propagation of sound, &c. are
subjects which all require a series of observations and experiments, the
performance of which could never have been properly expected before
the discovery of aerostatic machines.”
To those uses we may add the gratifications of curiosity and plea-
sure as a very strong inducement to the practice of an art, in which,
with any tolerable degree of caution, there appears not to be the small-
est danger. Every one who has tried the experiment testifies, that
the beauty of the prospect afforded by an ascent, or the pleasure of be-
ing conveyed through the atmosphere, cannot be exceeded. No one
has felt the least of that giddiness consequent upon looking from the
top of a very high building or of a precipice, nor have they any of the
sickness arising from the motion of a vessel at sea. Many have been
carried by balloons at the rate of thirty, forty, or even fifty miles an
hour, without feeling the least inconvenience, or even agitation of the
wind; the reason of which is, that, as the machine moves with nearly
the velocity of the wind itself, they are always in a calm, and without
uneasiness. Some have apprehended danger from the electricity of the
atmosphere; and have thought that a stroke of lightning, or the smallest
electric spark, happening near a balloon, might set fire to the inflam-
mable air, and destroy both the machine and the adventurers. Mr.
Cavallo has suggested several considerations for diminishing apprehen-
sions of this kind. Balloons have been raised in every season of the
year, and even when thunder has been heard, without injury. In case
of danger, the aeronauts may either descend to the earth, or ascend
above the region of the clouds and thunder-storms. Besides, as bal-
loons are formed of materials that are not conductors of electricity,
they are not likely to receive strokes, especially as by being encom-
passed with air they stand insulated. Moreover, inflammable air by
itself, or unmixed with a certain quantity of common air, will not burn;
so that, if an electric spark should happen to pass through the balloon,
it would not set fire to the inflammable air unless a hole were made in
the covering.
*
The general principles of aerostation are so little different from those
of hydrostatics, that it may seem superfluous to insist much upon them.
It is a fact universally known, that when a body is immersed in any
fluid, if its weight be less than an equal bulk of that fluid, it will rise
to the surface; but, if heavier, it will sink; and if equal, it will re-
main in the place where it is left. For this reason smoke ascends into
the atmosphere, and heated air in that which is colder. The ascent of
the latter is shewn in a very easy and satisfactory manner by bringing
a red-hot iron under one of the scales of a balance, by which the lat-
ter is instantly made to ascend; for, as soon as the red-hot iron is
brought under the scale, the hot-air, being lighter than that which is
colder, ascends, and strikes the bottom, which is thus impelled upwards,
and the opposite scale descends, as if a weight had been put into it.
Upon this simple principle depends the whole theory of aerostation;
!
640
AEBOSTATION.
↓
500
for it is the same thing whether we render the air lighter by intro-
ducing a quantity of heat into it, or inclosing a quantity of gas speci-
fically lighter than the common atmosphere in a certain space; both
will ascend, and for the same reason. A cubic foot of air, by the most
accurate experiments, has been found to weigh about 554 grains, and to
be expanded by every degree of heat, marked on Fahrenheit's ther-
mometer, about part of the whole. By heating a quantity of air,
therefore, to 500 degrees of Fahrenheit, we shall just double its bulk
when the thermometer stands at fifty-four in the open air, and in the
same proportion we shall diminish its weight; and if such a quantity
of this hot air be inclosed in a bag, that the excess of the weight of an
equal bulk of common air weighs more than the bag with the air con-
tained in it, both the bag and air will rise into the atmosphere, and
continue to do so until they arrive at a place where the external air is
naturally so much rarefied that the weight becomes equal; and here
the whole will float.
The power of hot air in raising weights, or rather that by which it
is itself impelled upwards, may be shewn in the following manner :
Roll up a sheet of paper into a conical form, and, by thrusting a pin
into it, prevent it from unrolling. Fasten it by its apex under one of
the scales of a balance by means of a thread, and, having properly
counterpoised it by weights put into the opposite scale, apply the flame
of a candle underneath; you will instantly perceive the cone to arise,
and it will not be brought into equilibrium with the other but by a
much greater weight than those who have never seen the experiment
would believe. If we try this experiment with more accuracy, by get-
ing proper receptacles made which contain determinate quantities of
air, we shall find that the power of the heat depends much more on
the capacity of the bag which contains it than could well be supposed.
Thus, let a cubical receptacle be made of a small wooden frame cover-
ed with paper capable of containing one foot of air, and let the power
of a candle be tried with this as above directed for the paper cone.
It
will be then found that a certain weight may be raised; but a much
greater one will be raised by having a receptacle of the same kind
which contains two cubic feet; a still greater by one of three feet; a
yet greater by one of four feet, &c. and this even though the very same
candle be made use of; nor is it known to what extent even the power
of this small flame might be carried.
From these experiments it appears, that, in the aerostatic machines
constructed on Montgolfier's plan, it must be an advantage to have them
as large as possible, because a smaller quantity of fire will then have a
greater effect in raising them, and the danger from that element, which
in this kind of machines is chiefly to be dreaded, will be in a great mea-
sure avoided. On this subject it may be remarked, that as the cubical
contents of a globe, or any other figure of which balloons are made, in-
crease much more rapidly than their surfaces, there must ultimately be
a degree of magnitude at which the smallest imaginable heat would
raise any weight whatever. Thus, supposing any aerostatic machine
capable of containing 500 cubic feet, and the air within it to be only
one degree hotter than the external atmosphere; the tendency of this
machine to rise, even without the application of artificial heat, would
be near an ounce. Let its capacity be increased sixteen times; and
the tendency to rise will be equivalent to a pound, though this may be


AEROSTATION.
641
મ
$4
#
done without making the machine sixteen times heavier than before. It
is certain, however, that all aerostatic machines have a tendency to pro-
duce or preserve heat within them, which would by no means be ima-
gined by those who have not made the experiment. When Messrs.
Charles and Robert made their longest aerial voyage of 150 miles, they
had the curiosity to try the temperature of the air within their balloon,
in comparison with that of the external atmosphere; and at this time.
they found, that, when the external atmosphere was 63º, the thermo-
meter within the balloon stood at 104°. Such a difference of tempe-
rature must have given a machine of the magnitude which carried them
a considerable ascending power independent of any other cause, as it
amounted to forty-one grains on every cubic foot; and therefore in a
machine containing 50,000 such feet would have been almost 200
pounds.
This difference between the external and internal heat, being so very
considerable, must have a great influence upon aerostatic machines,
and will undoubtedly influence these filled with inflammable air as well
as the other kind. Nor is it unlikely, that the short time which
many aerial voyagers have been able to continue in the atmosphere may
have been owing to the want of a method of preserving this internal
heat. It may naturally be supposed, and indeed. it has always been
found, that balloons, in passing through the higher regions of the at-
mosphere, acquire a very considerable quantity of moisture, not only
from the rain or snow they sometimes meet with, but even from the
dew and vapour which condense upon them. On this an evaporation
will instantly take place; and, as it is the property of this operation
to produce a very violent cold, the internal heat of the balloon must be
soon exhausted in such a manner as to make it become specifically
heavier than the common atmosphere, and consequently descend in a
much shorter time than it would have done by the mere loss of air.
To this in all probability we are to ascribe the descent of the balloon
which carried Messrs. Blanchard and Jeffries; and which seemed so
extraordinary to many people, that they were obliged to have recourse
to an imaginary attraction in the waters of the ocean, in order to solve
the phenomenon. This supposition is rejected by Mr. Cavallo; who
explains the matter by remarking, that, in two former voyages made
with the same machine, it could not long support two men in the at-
mosphere; so that we had no occasion to wonder at its weakness on
this occasion. "As for its rising higher (says he) just when it got
over the land, that may be easily accounted for. In the first place,
the travellers threw out their clothes just about that time; secondly,
in consequence of the wind's then increasing, the balloon travelled at a
much greater rate than it had done whilst over the sea; which increase
of velocity lessened its tendency to descend; besides which, the vicis-
situdes of heat and cold may produce a very considerable effect; for,
if we suppose that the air over the land was colder than that over the
sea, the balloon, coming into the latter from the former, continued to
be hotter than the circumambient air for some time after; and conse-
quently, it was comparatively much lighter when in the colder air
over the land, than when in the hotter air over the sea; hence it float-
ed easier in the former than it did in the latter cașe.'
•
+
It seems indeed very probable, that there was something uncommon
in the case of M. Blanchard's balloon while passing over the sea; for,
\
"
*
+

4 N
64&
AEROSTATION
}
}
it
as it rose higher after reaching the land than in any former period of
the voyage, and likewise carried them to the distance over land more
than half of that which they had passed over water, we can scarcely
• avoid supposing, that it had a tendency to descend when over the wa-
´ter more than when over land, independent of any loss of air. Now,
does not appear that the air over the sea is at all warmer than that
above land; on the contrary, there is every reason to believe, that the
superior reflective power of the land renders the atmosphere above it
warmer than the sea can do: but it is very natural to suppose, that the
air above the sea is more moist than that above land; and consequently,
by letting fall its moisture upon the balloon, must have occasioned an
evaporation that would deprive the machine of its internal heat, which
it would partly recover after it entered the warmer and drier atmo-
sphere over land.
We shall now proceed to the construction of aerostatic machines.
Various shapes have been tried and proposed, but the globular, or the
egg-like figure, is the most proper and convenient, for all purposes;
and this form also will require less cloth or silk than any other shape of
the same capacity; so that it will both come cheaper, and have a
greater power of ascension. The bag or cover of an inflammable air
balloon, is best made of the silk stuff called lustring, varnished over.
But for a Montgolfier, or heated air balloon, on account of its great
size, linen-cloth has been used, lined within or without with paper, and
varnished. Small balloons are made either of varnished paper, or
simply of paper unvarnished, or of gold-beater's skin, or such like light
substances.

*
•
捕
​J
•
•
•
1
•
With respect to the form of a balloon, it will be necessary that the
operator remember the common proportions between the diameters, cir-
cumferences, surfaces, and solidities of spheres; for instance, that of
different spheres, the circuinferences are as the diameters; that the
surfaces are as the squares of the diameters; and the solidities as the
cubes of the same diameters: that any diameter is to its circumference
as 7 to 22, or as 1 to 34; and therefore 3 times and of any diameter
will be its circumference; so that, if the diameter of a balloon be 35
feet, its circumference will be 110 feet. And, if the diameter be mul-
tiplied by the circumference, the product will be the surface of the
sphere; thus 35 multiplied by 110 gives 3850, which is the surface of
the same sphere in square feet: and if this surface be divided by the
breadth of the stuff, in feet, which the balloon is to be made of, the
quotient will be the number of feet in length necessary to construct the
balloon; so, if the stuff be three feet wide, then 3850 divided by 3
gives 1283 feet, or 428 yards nearly, the requisite quantity of stuff of
one yard wide, to form the balloon of 35 feet diameter. Hence also,
by knowing the weight of a given piece of the stuff, as of a square foot,
or square yard, it is easy to find the weight of the whole bag, namely,
by multiplying the surface in square feet or yards, by the weight of a
square foot or yard: so if each square yard weigh 16 oz. or 1lb. then
the whole bag will weigh 428lbs. Again, the capacity, or solid con-
tents of the sphere, will be found by multiplying of the surface by
the diameter, or by taking of the cube of the diameter: which
gives 22,458 cubic feet for the capacity of the said balloon, that is, it
will contain, or displace, 22,458 cubic feet of air. From the contents
and surface of the balloon, so found, is to be derived its power or lévi-
*


•
AEROSTATION.
613
*F
12
ty, thus: on an average, a cubic foot of common air weighs 13 ounce,
and therefore to the number 22,458, which is the content of the bal-.
loon, adding its th part, we have 26,950 oz. or 1684lbs. for the weight
of the common air displaced or occupied by the balloon. From this
weight must be deducted the weight of the bag, namely 428lbs. and
then there remains 1256lbs. levity of the balloon, without, however, con-
sidering the contained air, whether it be heated air, or of the inflam-
mable kind. If inflammable air be used, as it is of different weights,
from too or the weight of common air, according to the modes
of preparing it; let us suppose for instance that it is of the weight of:
no6
common air; then of 1684 is 261lbs. which is the weight of the bag:
full of that air; which, being taken from 1256, leaves 995lbs. for the
levity of the balloon when so filled with that inflammable air, or the
weight which it will carry up, consisting of the car, the ropes, the
passengers, the necessaries, and ballast. But, if heated air be used,
then as it is known from experiment that, by heating, the contained
air is diminshed in density about one-third only, therefore from 1684 ·
take of itself, and their remains 1123 for the weight of the contained
warm air; and this being subtracted from 1256, leaves only 133lbs. for
the levity of the balloon in this case; which being too small to carry
up the car, passengers, &c. it shews that for those purposes a larger
balloon is necessary, on Montgolfier's principle. But if now, from the
preceding computation, it be required to find how much the size of the
balloon must be increased, that its levity, or power of ascension, may
be equal to any given weight, as suppose 1000lbs. then, because the
levities are nearly as the cubes of the diameters, therefore the diameters,
will be nearly as the cube roots of the levities; but, the levities 133 and
1000 are nearly as 1 to 8, the cube roots of which are as 1 to 2, and
consequently 1:2::35: 70 feet, the diameter of a Montgolfier, made of,
the same thickness of stuff as the former, capable of lifting, 1000lbs.
?
•

►
↓
ܐ
1
*
On the same principle we can easily find the size of a balloon that,
shall just float in air when made of stuff of a given thickness or
weight, and filled with air of a given density; the rule for which is
this: from the weight of a cubic foot of common air, subtract that of a
cubic foot of the lighter or contained air; then divide 6 times the weight
of a square foot of the stuff, by the remainder, and the quotient will be
the diameter, in feet, of the balloon that will just float at the surface of
the earth. Suppose, for instance, that the materials are as before,
namely, the stuff 1lb. to the square yard, or 16 ounces to the square
foot, which taken 6 times is 32; then the cubic foot of common air
weighing 14 ounce, and of heated air of the same, whose differénce
is; therefore 3 divided by, gives 26 feet, which is the diameter
of a Montgolfier that will just float: but, if inflammable air be used of
'
i
the weight of common air, the difference between 1 and of it is 1;
by which dividing 32 or 10%, the quotient is the same, 103 feet, which
therefore is the diameter of an inflammable air balloon that will just:
float. And, if the diameter be more than these dimensions, the bal
loons will rise up into the atmosphere.
:
.**


·
4
*
644
´´AEROSTATION.
1
0.932
0.723
0.687
The height nearly to which a given balloon will rise in the atmosphere,
may be thus found, having given only the diameter
of the balloon, and the weight which just balances
it, or that is just necessary to keep it from rising:
compute the capacity or content of the globe in cu-
bic feet, and divide its restraining weight in ounces
by that content, and the quotient will be the differ-
ence between the density or specific gravity of the
atmosphere at the earth's surface, and that at the
height to which the balloon will rise; therefore sub-
0.886 tract that difference of quotient from 14 or 1.2, the
density at the earth, and the remainder will be the
density at that height: then the height answering to
that density will be found sufficiently near in the
annexed table. Thus, in the foregoing examples in
which the diameter of the balloon is 85 feet, its ca-
0.653 pacity 22,458, and the levity of the first one 995
pounds, or 15,920 ounces, the quotient of the latter
number, divided by the former, is .709, which is the density at the ut-
most height, and to which in the table answers a little more than 2
miles, or 2 miles nearly, which therefore is the height to which the
balloon will ascend. And, when the same balloon was filled with heated
air, its levity was found equal to only 133 pounds, or 2128 ounces;
then dividing this by 22,458, the capacity, the quotient .095, taken
from 1.200, leaves 1.105 for the density; to which in the table corre-
sponds almost half a mile, or nearer of a mile. And so high nearly
would these balloons, ascend, if they keep the same figure, and lose
none of the contained air: or rather, those are the heights they would
settle at; for their acquired velocity would first carry them above that
height, so far as till all their motion should be destroyed; then they
would descend and pass below that height, but not so much as they
- had gone above; after which they would re-ascend, and pass that
height again, but not so far as they had gone below it; and so on for
many times, vibrating alternately above and below that point, but al-
ways less and less every time. The foregoing rule, for finding the
height to which the balloon will ascend, is independent of the different
states of the thermometer at that highest point, and at the surface of
the earth.

Height in
miles.
·0·
HHHamit
Hexfxftan/(\\ces[+
1 1 1 2 2 2 ~ ~
PICONIEPIE
3
Density.
1.200
1.141
1.085
1.031
0.980
0.842
0.800
0.761
t
The best way to form the whole coating of the balloon is by differ-
ent pieces or slips joined lengthways from end to end, like the pieces
composing the surface of a geographical globe, and contained between
one meridian and another, or like the slices into which a melon is
usually cut, and supposed to be spread flat out. Now the edges of
such pieces cannot be exactly described by a pair of compasses, not be-
ing circular, but flatter or less round than circular arches; but, if the
slips are sufficiently narrow, or numerous, they will differ the less from
circles, and may be described as such. But more accurately, the
breadths of the slip, at the several distances from the point to the mid-
dle, where it is broadest, are directly as the sines of those distances, ra-
dius being the sine of the half length of the slip, or of the distance of
either point from the middle of the slip.

The joining the pieces of stuff may be rendered secure by running
them with a silk thread, and sticking a tibband over the seam with
AEROSTATION.
645
=
common glue; and, when dry, varnish them over, to prevent their be-
ing unglued by wet.
The best varnish for an inflammable air balloon is that made with
bird-lime, and recommended by M. Faujas de Saint Fond, in a treatise
published on the subject. The following is his method of preparing it:
"Take one pound of bird-lime, put it into a new earthen pot that can
resist the fire, and let it boil gently for about one hour, viz. till it ceases
to crackle, then pour upon it a pound of spirit of turpentine, stirring
it at the same time with a wooden spatula, and keeping the pot at a
good distance from the flame, lest the vapour of this essential oil should
take fire. After this, let it boil for about six minutes longer; then
pour upon the whole three pounds of boiling oil of nut, linseed, or
poppy, rendered drying by means of litharge; stir it well, let it boil
for a quarter of an hour longer, and the varnish is made. After it has
rested for twenty-four hours, and the sediment has gone to the bottom,
decant it into another pot; and, when you want to use it, warm, and
apply it with a flat brush upon the silk or stuff, whilst that is kept well
stretched. One coat of it may be sufficient; but, if two are necessary,
it will be proper to give one on each side of the silk, and to let them
dry in the open air while the silk remains extended.”

M. Cavallo gives the following method of preparing this varnish,
which he prefers to that of M. de Saint Fond: In order to render
linseed-oil drying, boil it with two ounces of saccharum saturni and ·
three ounces of litharge, for every pint of oil, till the oil has dissolved
them, which will be accomplished in half an hour; then put a pound
of bird-lime, and half a pint of the drying oil into a pot (iron or cop-,
per pots are the safest for this purpose), the capacity of which may be
equal to about one gallon, and let it boil very gently over a slow
charcoal fire till the bird-lime ceases to crackle; then pour upon it two
pints and a half more of drying oil, and let it boil for one hour longer,
stirring it very frequently with an iron or wooden spatula. Whilst the
stuff is boiling, the operator should, from time to time, examine whe-
ther the varnish has boiled enough; which is thus known :-Take
some of it upon the blade of a knife, and then, after rubbing the blade
of another knife upon it, separate the knives; and when, on this se-
paration, the varnish begins to form threads between the two, you may
conclude that it is done; and, without losing time, it must be removed
from the fire. When it is almost, though not quite cold, add about an
equal quantity of spirit of turpentine: mix it well together, and let it
rest till the next day; when, having warmed it a little, strain and bot-
tle it for use."
The best method of cutting the pieces of silk that are to form a bal-
loon, is to describe a pattern of wood or stiff card-paper, and then to
cut the silk upon it. In cutting the pieces after such pattern, care
should be taken to leave them about three-quarters of an inch all round
larger than the pattern, which will be taken up by the seams in joining.
•
To the upper part of the balloon there should be adapted, and well
fitted in, a valve opening inwards; to which should be fastened a string
passing through a hole made in a small piece of round wood fixed in
the lowest part of the balloon opposite to the valve, the end of this
string fastened in the car below, so that the aeronaut may open the
valve when occasion requires. The action of this valve is effected by a
round brass plate, having a round hole about two or three inches dia-
646
AEROSTATION.
I
meter, covered on both sides with strong smooth leather. On the in-
side there is a shutter of brass, covered with leather, which serves to
close the hole, being about two inches larger in diameter than the hole.
It is fastened to the leather of the plate, and by a spring, which need
not be very strong, it is kept against the hole. The elasticity of the
gas itself will help to keep it shut. To this shutter the string is fas
tened, by which it is occasionally opened for the escape of the gas.
A small string or other security should be fixed to the shutter and the
plate, so as not to admit the shutter to be opened beyond a certain
safe distance. To the lower part of the balloon two pipes should be
fixed, made of the same stuff as the envelope; they should be six inches
diameter for a balloon of thirty feet, and proportionably larger for bal-
loons of a greater capacity. They must be long enough to reach the
car. For balloons of eighteen feet and less diameter, one neck or pipe
will be sufficient. These pipes are the apertures through which the in-
flammable gas is introduced into the balloon.
The car or boat is best made of wicker-work, covered with leather,
and well painted or varnished over; and the proper method of sus-
pending it, is by ropes proceeding from the net which goes over the
balloon. This net should be formed to the shape of the balloon, and
fall down to the middle of it, with various cords proceeding from it to
the circumference of a circle about two feet below the balloon; and
from that circle other ropes should go to the edge of the boat. This
circle may be made of wood, or of several pieces of slender cane bound
together. The meshes of the net may be small at top, against which
part of the balloon the inflammable air exerts the greatest force; and
increase in size as they recede from the top. A hoop has been some-
times applied round the middle of the balloon to fasten the net. This,
though not absolutely necessary, is best made of pieces of cane bound
together, and covered with leather.



With regard to the rarefied air machines, Mr. Cavallo recommends
first to soak the cloth in a solution of sal-ammoniac and common size,
using one pound of each to every gallon of water; and, when the
cloth is quite dry, to paint it over in the inside with some earthy co-
lour, and strong size or glue. When this paint has dried perfectly, it
will then be proper to varnish it with oily varnish, which might dry
before it could penetrate quite through the cloth. Simple drying lin-
seed oil will answer the purpose as well as any, provided it be not
very fluid.
It now only remains to give some account of the method by which
aerostatic machines may be filled with their proper gas, in order to give
them their power of ascending into the atmosphere; and here we are
enabled to determine with much greater precision concerning the in-
flammable air balloons than the others. With regard to them, a pri-
mary consideration is, the most proper method of procuring the in-
flammable air. It may be obtained in various ways, as has been shewn
under the article aerology. But the most advantageous methods are,
by applying acids to certain metals; by exposing animal, vegetable,
and some mineral substances, in a close vessel, to a strong fire; or by
transmitting the vapour of certain fluids through red hot tubes.
In the first of these methods, iron, zinc, and vitriolic acid, are the
materials most generally used. The vitriolic acid must be diluted by
five or six parts of water. Iron may be expected to yield in the com
AEROSTATION.
647
P
mony way 1700 times its own bulk of gas; or one cubic foot of inflam-
mable air to be produced by four ounces and a half of iron, the like
weight of oil of vitriol, and twenty-two ounces and a half of water. Six
ounces of zinc, an equal weight of oil of vitriol, and thirty ounces of
water, are necessary for producing the same quantity of gas. It is more
proper to use the turnings or chippings of great pieces of iron, as of
cannon, &c. than the filings of that metal, because the heat attending
the effervescence will be diminished; and the diluted acid will pass
more readily through the interstices of the turnings when they are heap-
ed together, than through the filings, which stick closer to one another.
The weight of the inflammable air thus obtained by means of acid of
vitriol, is, in the common way of procuring it, generally one-seventh
part of the weight of common air; but, with the necessary precautions
for philosophic experiments, less than one-tenth of the weight of com-
mon air. Two other sorts of elastic fluids are sometimes generated with
the inflammable air. These may be separated from it by passing the in-
flammable air through water in which quick-lime has been dissolved.
The water will absorb these fluids, cool the inflammable air, and pre-
vent its over-heating the balloon when introduced into it.

•
•
Inflammable air may be obtained at a much cheaper rate by the action
of fire on various substances; but the gas which these yield is not so
light as that produced by the effervescence of acids and metals. The
substances proper to be used in this way are, pit-coal, asphaltum, am-
ber, rock-oil, and other minerals; wood and especially oak, camphor-
oil, spirit of wine, ether, and animal substances, which yield air in dif-
ferent degrees, and of various specific gravities; but pit-coal is the
preferable substance. A pound of this exposed to a red heat yields
about three cubic feet of inflammable air, which, whether it be passed
through water or not, weighs about one-fourth of the weight of common
air. Dr. Priestley found that animal or vegetable substances will yield
six or seven times more inflammable air when the fire is suddenly in-
creased than when it is gently raised, though it be afterwards made very
strong. Mr. Cavallo observes, that the various substances above enu-
merated generally yield all their inflammable air in about an hour's time.
The general method is, to enclose the substances in iron or earthen ves-
sels, and thus expose them to a strong fire sufficient to make the vessels.
red-hot: the inflammable air proceeding from the aperture of the vessel
is received into a tube or refrigeratory, and, passing through the tube
or worm, is at last collected in a balloon or other vessel. A gun-barrel
has often been used for essays of this kind. The substance is put into
it so as to fill six or eight inches of its lowest part, the remainder filled
with dry sand: a tube, adapted to the mouth of the barrel, is brought
into a bason of water under an inverted receiver; and, the part of the
barrel containing the substance being put into the fire and made red-hot,
the inflammable air is collected in the inverted receiver. As the gun-
barrel cannot serve for producing a large quantity of inflammable air,
Mr. Cavallo recommends, as the most advantageous shape, the following
contrivance:-Let the vessel be made of clay, or rather of iron, in the
shape of a Florence flask, somewhat larger, and whose neck is longer
and larger. Put the substance to be used into this vessel, so as to fill
about four-fifths or less of its cavity. If the substance is of such a na-
ture as to swell much by the action of the fire, lute a tube of brass, or
first a brass and then a leaden tube, to the neck of the vessel; and let
睫
​
*

648
AEROSTATION.

the end of the tube be rounded, so that, going into the water of a tub,
it may terminate under a sort of inverted vessel, to the upper aperture
of which the balloon is adapted. Things thus prepared, if the lower
part of the vessel be put into the fire, and made red-hot, the inflamma-
ble air produced will come out of the tube, and, passing through the
water, will at last enter into the balloon. Previous to the operation, as
a considerable quantity of common áir remains in the inverted vessel,
which it is more proper to expel, the vessel should have a stop-cock,
through which the common air may be sucked out, and the water ascend
as high as the stop-cock. Care must be taken that the fire used in this
process be at a sufficient distance, otherwise it may happen to fire the
inflammable air.
Another method of obtaining inflammable air was lately discovered
by M. Lavoisier, and also by Dr. Priestley. M. Lavoisier made the
steam of boiling water pass through the barrel of a gun, kept red-hot by
burning coals. Dr. Priestley uses, instead of the gun-barrel, a tube of
red-hot brass, upon which the steam of water has no effect, and which
he fills with the pieces of iron which are separated in the boring of can-
non. By this method he obtains an inflammable air, the specific gravity
of which is to that of common air as one to thirteen. In this method,
a tube about three-quarters of an inch in diameter, and about three feet
long, is filled with iron-turnings; then the neck of a retort, or close
boiler, is luted to one of its ends, and the worm of a refrigeratory is
adapted to its other extremity. The middle part of the tube is then
surrounded with burning coals, so as to keep about one foot in length
of it red-hot, and a fire is always made under the retort or boiler suffi-
cient to make the water boil with vehemence. In this process a consi-
derable quantity of inflammable air comes out of the worm of the refri-
geratory. It is said that iron yields one half more air by this means than
by the action of vitriolic acid.
For filling large balloons, a greater apparatus is necessary; and the
only materials that can, with any certainty of success, be employed for
producing the proper gas, are, oil of vitriol, and iron filings or turnings.
It has indeed been recommended to use zinc instead of iron-filings,
because white vitriol, the salt produced by the union of the vitriolic
acid and zinc, is much more valuable than the green sort produced by
the union of the same acid with iron. But, though this is undoubtedly
the case, it will as certainly be found, upon trial, that the superior price
of the zinc will be more than an equivalent for all the advantage that
can be derived from the additional price of the white vitriol. For a
balloon of thirty feet diameter, Mr. Cavallo recommends 3900 pounds
of iron-turnings, as much oil of vitriol, and 19,500 pounds of water.
These proportions, however, appear too great with respect to the acid
and metal, and too little with respect to the water. Oil of vitriol will
not exert its power upon iron unless it be diluted with five or six times
its quantity of water; in which case a much smaller quantity of both
acid and metal will serve. M. Lunardi, who from the number of his
voyages had certainly much practical knowledge in aerostation, filled
his balloon with about 2000 pounds of iron, as much vitriolic acid, and
12,000 pounds of water. The iron was placed in his vessels in layers,
with straw between them, in order to increase the surface. His appa-
ratus was not materially different from that of Mr. Cavallo, and is re-
presented in the plate, where there are two tubs, about three feet in
1

ปี
AEROSTATION..
649
diameter and nearly two feet deep, inverted in large tubs filled with
water. In the bottom of each of the inverted tubs a hole is made, and
a tube of tin adapted, which is about seven inches in diameter, and se-
ven or eight long. To these tubes the silken ones of the balloon are tied.
Round each of the tubs, five, six, or more, strong casks are placed; in
the top of each two holes are made, and to one of these holes a tin tube
is adapted, and so shaped, that, passing through the water, it may ter-
minate with its aperture under the inverted tub. The other hole of
these casks serves for the introduction of materials, and is stopped with
a wooden plug. When the balloon is to be filled, put the net over it,
and let it be suspended in the centre; and, having expelled all the com-
mon air from it, let the silken tubes be fastened round the tin ones; and,
the materials being put into the casks, the inflammable air, passing into
the balloon, will soon distend, and render it capable of supporting it-
self; after which the rope may be slipped off. As the balloon continues
to be filled, the net is adjusted properly round it, and the boat, being
placed between the two sets of casks, is fastened to the hoop, with every
thing else that is required to be sent up, as ballast, instruments, &c.
At last, when the balloon is little more than three quarters full, the
silken tubes are separated from the tin ones of the inverted tubs, and,
their extremities being tied up, are placed in the boat. Lastly, the
aeronauts being seated in the boat, the lateral ropes are slipped off, and
the machine is abandoned to the air. This apparatus was at last re-
duced by M. Lunardi to its utmost simplicity, by using only two large
casks, and suffering the vapour to go into the balloon without passing
through water. Thus his balloon was filled in less than half an hour,
when, by the former method, it had required two hours at least. The
sinking of his casks in the ground was also an additional convenience,
as it created no confusion, and rendered the materials much more easily
conveyed into them.
+
·
With regard to the rarefied air balloons, the method of filling them
is as follows:--A scaffold, the breadth of which is at least two-thirds of
the diamenter of the machine, is elevated about six or eight feet above
the ground. From the middle of it descends a well, rising about two
or three feet above it, and reaching to the ground, furnished with a door
or two, through which the fire in the well is supplied with fuel. The
well should be constructed of brick or of plastered wood, and its dia-
meter should be somewhat less than that of the machine. On each side
of the scaffold are erected two masts, each of which has a pulley at the
top, and rendered firm by means of ropes. The machine to be filled is
to be placed on the scaffold, with its neck round the aperture of the
well. The rope, passing over the pulleys of the two masts, serves, by
pulling its two ends, to lift the balloon about fifteen feet or more above
the scaffold. The machine is kept steady, and held down, whilst filling,
by ropes passing through loops or holes about its equator; and these
ropes may easily be disengaged from the machine, by slipping them
through the loops when it is able to sustain itself. The proper combus-
tibles to be lighted in the well, are those which burn quick and clear,
rather than such as produce much smoke; because it is hot air, and not
smoke, that is required to be introduced into the machine. Small wood
and straw have been found to be very fit for this purpose. Mr. Cavallo
observes, as the result of many experiments with small machines, that
spirits of wine are upon the whole the best combustible; but its price
1

40
€50
AEROSTATION.
빨
​may prevent its being used for large machines. As the current of hot
air ascends, the machine will soon dilate, and lift itself above the scaf
fold and gallery which was covered by it. The passengers, fuel, in-
struments, &c. are then placed in the gallery. When the machine
makes efforts to ascend, its aperture must be brought, by means of the
ropes annexed to it, towards the side of the well a little above the scaf-
fold; the fire-place is then suspended in it, the fire lighted in the grate,
and, the lateral ropes being slipped off, the machine is abandoned to the
air. It has been determined by accurate experiments, that only one-
third of the common air can be expelled from these large machines; and
therefore the ascending power of the rarefied air in them can be esti-
mated as only equal to half an ounce avoirdupoise, for every cubic foot.
The conduct of balloons, when constructed, filled, and actually
ascending in the atmosphere, is an object of great importance in the
practice of aerostation. The method generally used for elevating or
lowering the balloons with rarefied air, has been the increase or diminu-
tion of the fire; and this is entirely at the command of the aeronaut, as
long as he has any fuel in the gallery. The inflammable ‘air balloons
have been generally raised or lowered by diminishing the weight in the
boat, or by letting out some of the gas through the valve; but the al-
ternate escape of the air in descending, and discharge of the ballast for
ascending, will by degrees render the machine incapable of floating;
for in the air it is impossible to supply the loss of ballast, and very diffi-
cult to supply that of inflammable air. These balloons will also rise or
fall by means of the rarefaction or condensation of the inclosed air, oc-
casioned by heat and cold. It has been proposed to aid a balloon in its
alternate motion of ascent and descent, by annexing to it a vessel of
common air, which might be condensed for lowering the machine, and
rarefied again, by expelling part of it, for raising the machine. But a
vessel adapted to this purpose must be very strong; and, after all, the
assistance afforded by it would not be very considerable. M. Maunier,
in order to attain this end, proposes to inclose one balloon filled with
common air in another filled with inflammable air; as the balloon as-
cends, the inflammable air is dilated, and of course compresses the in-
ternal balloon containing the common air; and, by diminishing its
quantity, lessens its weight. If it should be necessary to supply this
loss, he says it may be easily done by a pair of bellows fixed in the gal-
lery. Others have proposed to annex a small machine with rarefied air
to an inflammable air-balloon by ropes, at such a distance that the fire
of the former might not affect the inflammable air of the latter: the whole
apparatus, thus combined, of balloons formed on the two principles of
heated and inflammable air, might be raised or lowered by merely in-
creasing ur diminishing the fire in the lower balloon.
Wings or oars are the only means of this sort that have been used
with some success; and, as Mr. Cavallo observes they seem to be ca-
pable of considerable improvement. Although great effects are not to
be expected from them, when the machine goes at a great rate, the best
methods of moving those wings are by the human strength applied
similarly to the oars of a waterman. They may be made in general of
silk stretched between wires, tubes, or sticks; and, when used, must
be turned edgewise when they are moved in the direction in which the
machine is intended to be impelled, but flat in the opposite direction.
Other contrivances have been made to direct agrostatic machines, but





}
i
AEROSTATION.
651
they have mostly been invented to effect a power upon them as upon a
ship. It appears, however, that they can have no effect when a machine
is only moved by the wind alone, because the circuman bient air is at
rest in respect to the machine. The case is quite different with a vessel
at sea, because the water on which it floats stands still while the vessel
goes on; but it must be time and experience that can realise the
tations suggested by these contrivances.
expec¬
Mr. Sadler, of Oxford, was the first Englishman who ascended with
a balloon. He constructed one himself, with which he rose from Ox-
ford on the 4th of October; and a second time on the 12th, and sailed
15 miles in 18 minutes.
}
M. Blanchard and Mr. Sheldon ascended from Chelsea, on the 16th
of the same month; and Mr. Sheldon having alighted about 14 miles
from that place, M. Blanchard pursued his journey alone, and landed
near Rumsey, in Hampshire.
Mr. Harper, on the 4th of January 1785, ascended from Birming-
ham, and sailed to the distance of 57 miles in an hour and 20 minutes.
་
Mr. Crosbie ascended from Dublin, on the 19th of the same month,
with such rapidity, that he was out of sight in three minutes, and de-
scended at the verge of the sea.
Count Zambecari and Admiral Sir Edward Vernon, on 23d of March,
sailed from London to Horsham, à distance of 33 miles, in less than an
hour.
Mr. Sadler and Mr. W. Windham, on the 5th of May, ascended from
Moulsey-Hurst, and descended at the conflux of the Thames and
Medway.
Mr. M'Guire, on the 12th of May, having ascended from Dublin,
was carried with great velocity towards the sea, into which he descend-
ed, and was taken up by a boat, when on the point of expiring with
fatigue.
M. Pilatre de Rozier and M. Romain, on the 15th of July, ascended
from Boulogne, with an intention of crossing the Channel, but their
balloon, being a Montgolfier, or fire balloon, took fire at the height of
1200 yards, and they fell to the ground and were dashed to pieces.
Mr. Crosbie, on the 19th of July, again ascended from Dublin, in-
tending to cross the Channel, and land in England; but he fell into.
the sea, and was with great difficulty saved from being drowned.
Major Money, on the 22d of the same month, also ascended at Nor-
wich, and experienced a similar mischance. He was driven out to sea,
and fortunately snatched from death by a revenue-cutter.
M. Blanchard, in August, made an aerial voyage from Lisle, to the
distance of 300 miles, before he descended. He had also a parachute
attached to his ear; with this he dropped a dog, which descended;
gently and without injury.
Mr. Lunardi, on the 5th of October 1785, made the first aerial
voyage in Scotland.
He ascended from Edinburgh, and landed at
Cupar, in Fife, having traversed a distance of fifty miles over sea and
land in an hour and a half.
M. Blanchard, on the 19th of November, ascended from Ghent, to
a great height, and landed at Delft, having cut away his car, to lighten
the balloon, which was descending too rapidly, and held fast by the
cords, which then served as a parachute.
Mr. Lunardi, on the 25th of November, again ascended at Glasgow,
¿
Į
I
1
652
AEROSTATION.
孪
​and travelled a distance of 125 miles. He says, that being overcome
with drowsiness during his voyage, he lay down in his car, and slept
for about twenty minutes.
M. Blanchard, in August 1788, made his thirty-second voyage from
Brunswick.
The rage for aerostatic experiment now almost entirely subsided; and
the French were the only people who paid any attention to it during
the period of the late war. The principal improvement was, the addi-
tion of a large parachute, or umbrella, suspended below the balloon,
by means of which, the aerostat may come down very gently and in
perfect safety, should any accident happen to the balloon, so that he
should be forced to quit it.
The parachute is one of the material adjuncts to the air-balloon, and
for this we are indebted to M. Garnerin.

At five o'clock, on the 28th June 1802, that gentleman ascended
from Ranelagh-gardens, accompanied by Capt. Sowden. The weather
was very boisterous. In three quarters of an hour they landed, and
found themselves four miles beyond Colchester, which was at the rate
of 70 miles per hour. They experienced considerable danger in alight-
ing, owing to the violence of the wind; but they met with no material
injury.
On the 3d July, he again accended from Lord's Cricket-ground, ac-
companied by Mr. Locker, and descended at Chingford, in Essex,
passing a distance of nine miles in one quarter of an hour. They de-
scended in perfect safety.

On September 21, 1802, M. Garnerin ascended alone from St.
George's-parade, North Audley-street, Grosvenor-square, for the pur-
pose of descending in his parachute. He went to the height of 8000 feet
before he cut away the parachute, to which he was suspended. His de-
scent for the first thirty seconds was astonishingly rapid. The parachute
then expanded, and came down steadily; but it soon began to swing;
and this motion increased to such a degree, that all were alarmed for
the safety of the aeronaut. When it came near to the earth the swing-
ing motion decreased, and he alighted without any injury. The velo-
city with which he came to the ground was the same as if he had leap-
ed from a height of four feet.

The safety of the balloon, when properly constructed, is testified by
the numerous aerial voyages of Mr. Sadler; the most important of whose
excursions is thus described by his companion, Henry Beaufoy, Esq.
The ascent was from Hackney, August 2, 1811. As the balloon as-
cended I was totally unconscious of the motion; it appeared as if
the balloon was the only point stationary, and that the earth and the
people were suddenly sinking away. The rapidity with which it as-
cended was such that it prevented every sensation of giddiness, the
whole country appearing in the course of a few seconds as one prodi-
gious map. The almost instantaneous transition from the shouts of the
spectators, and from the absolute tumult in which we had been engaged,
to the death-like stillness that reigned in the upper regions, only broken
at intervals by the report of a cannon at Walthamstow, filled the mind
with indescribable sensations. It appeared difficult to persuade the
mind that it was a reality; and the mixed sensations of delight and
astonishment completely deprived me of the power of expressing my
wonder at the scene beneath the eye. It seemed a dream, and hardly
possible to be a reality.

AEROSTATION.
653
،
A few moments, however, were all that I allowed myself to feast on
the delightful scene; for the confusion that had taken place around the
car had compelled those that had taken charge of the instruments to use
very great exertions to convey them to us in the car. They were ac-
cordingly lying in a distressing state of confusion at the bottom of the
car; though on examination, fortunately without having suffered the
smallest injury. As soon therefore as the usual ceremony of waving
the farewell flag could be dispensed with, I threw off my hat, and pro-
ceeded to arrange and suspend the instruments. To effect this it was
necessary to have both hands at liberty. I was desirous of disposing of
the flag I held in my hand, and accordingly thrust the staff through the
back of the car; but as I was obliged to stand upon the seat to fix the
barometer sufficiently high, the flag fell from its situation, and was af-
terwards picked up at about a quarter of a mile from the place of ascent,
though neither of us missed it until some considerable time after the ac-
cident. The instruments being fixed in their respective situations, the
next care was to regulate the gauge of the barometer; all which several
occupations consumed the first ten minutes of the voyage.
After having made the first set of observations, I had an opportunity
of viewing at leisure the prospect from the balloon. The first and most
striking object was the Thames, which was seen meandering in endless
gigantic sinuosities through the long line of country down as far as the
Nore. The ships, and even boats, were distinguishable on its mirror-
like surface with astonishing minuteness; and I have no doubt that,
had the ascent been made with reference to that particular object, the
number of shipping afloat in the river and wet docks might have been
most accurately counted.


The sun shone full upon the river, and presented at once the grand-
est and most delightful sight imaginable. It would be fruitless to at-
tempt the description of the scene, though in candour it must be acknow-
ledged that it agreed precisely with the idea that I had preconceived,
and differed in no respect whatever from the view from the summit of
a lofty situation; except that it was infinitely more extended in its range;
the eye embraced a larger field within its scope; and then that listless
sensation of delight which is derived from the nature of the voyage itself.
In short, as has been already stated, the gratification arising from the
situation is altogether indescribable, but to such as have experienced it
themselves. Though moving with such wonderful velocity, the travel-
lers are themselves totally unconscious of any motion whatever. They
feel themselves floating in a most delightful aeriform fluid, and seeming
to convey a most exquisite idea of unlimited elasticity. The extreme
elasticity, indeed, was found on this occasion to be materially against
the accuracy required in all barometrical observations. The slightest
motion on the part of either of us causing a vibration of the quicksilver,
in the tube, of an inch, a half, and two inches, which required to be
steadied with the hand to bring it to any thing like a stationary point.
Finding this to be the case, I noticed each time the two extreme divi-
gions of vibration, and took the mean as the sum to be placed in the
barometer column. In no one instance was the barometer stationary;
for even when we were both of us perfectly still, the barometer ebbed
and flowed with great rapidity, though not to such an extent as in the
case already mentioned.
In looking over the country, it gave the idea of an immense map,
654
ABIOSTATION,
executed with uncommon neatness; the fields presenting a much livelier
and brighter green than the trees. The colours of objects were not in
the least changed or affected in any instance than came under observation.
In passing over Epping Forest, I was particularly struck with its ap-
pearance; it seemed to consist of a vast number of clumps of something
of a very dark green, certainly conveying an accurate idea of what it
really was a forest; but so much fore-shortened as to preclude any
idea of comparative elevation. It occurred to me at the very moment of
my noticing it, that although Captain Snowdon had been much joked
for having described Epping Forest as looking like a gooseberry bush,
the error really existed by no means in the point of fact, but in the unfor-
tunate selection of words in which he had chosen to express himself; for
had he said that Epping Forest looked exactly like a large plantation of
gooseberry trees of a gigantic size and width, he would have conveyed a
very accurate idea of the fact. I particularly noticed that the forest pre-
sented to the eye a tract of dark green detached patches; where the turf
(as I supposed) was visible, there seemed to be an edging of varied extent
of courses of a green of a much brighter colour. All objects, of what-
ever kind, ceased to give any idea of comparative height, unless when
seen at a considerable angle, before the balloon became in a vertical
situation. I observed that white objects, as Chigwell and Ongar
church, Wanstead House, and the Town Hall at Chelmsford, conveyed
a much better idea of our elevation above the surface of the earth than
any other objects I observed. The small rill of water that runs through
the main street of Chelmsford sparkled with peculiar brilliancy; much
more so indeed than either the Thames or any other water that caught
the
eye in the course of the voyage. Such of the roads as took the at-
tention seemed all of one uniform colour, and that an orange-yellow;
and, at the elevation at which the balloon was at the time, conveyed the
idea of fine gravel walks. In one instance, in which a flock of sheep
were passing in a direction from London, the dust they left behind them
was very distinguishable, and this at an elevation of nearly 3000 feet.
All sounds seemed to be transmitted with distinctness to us aloft, at a
distance in which we could not make ourselves heard by those under us.
This was to be expected, as there could be no objects near enough to
the balloon to assist in reflecting the sound; whereas to those beneath
us this objection did not apply; the hills and hollows all tending to in-
fluence the propagation of sound on the earth. It did not appear that
any change in the state of the atmosphere affected the propagation of
sound. This was contrary to my expectations. For some years since,
when Colonel Beaufoy was out on a shooting party on one of the Swiss
mountains, in company with the late Sir Harry Mildmay, they were
enveloped in a very dense cloud; by accident Sir Harry's fowling piece
went off, and the report was instantly followed by a complete roll, like
that of thunder. The experiment was repeated again and again with
similar results. Col. Beaufoy waited there some time, till the cloud had
cleared away, and the ordinary clearness of the atmosphere was restored.
He again tried the effects of the discharge of his piece; but now, no roll
followed.
•



AEROSTATION.
655

Time. Barometer. Therm,
Min. Hours.
Obs. 1 20 b 3
210 b 3
3 5 b 3
4
5 5 a 3 26
☺ ☺g po 29 29
30 1
26 7 3411
26 7 3411
3 26 5 3529
3 3741
3052
610
3 27 0
715
3 28
2
1812
8 20
327 5 2519|
925 a 3 26 4 3771
10/30
325 6 4494
1125 b 4 24 3 5861
12 22 b 4 24 45727
1315 b 4 26 04032
1410 b 4 26 2 3820
15 7 b 4 26 0 4032
16 5 b 4 27 0 2986
17
18 5 a 4
19/10 a 4
a
a
Inches and
Tenths.
a
a
Veet.
Degrees.
65
68
**Jnx83E2DÄÄD
4 30
4 32
4 38
59 4 40
56 4 56
66 4 55
60
Kater's Electro-
Hygrom. meter.
59
56
54
56
56
4
59
4 62
4 65
4 67
Divergency.
Compass.
Course of
Ballowu.
None SW wind
None
None
None
None
None
None
NE
NE
NE
NE
NE
NE
E
4 75 2 Tenths
4
851 Tenth
4 90
None
4 90
None
57
4 87
None
56
4 86
None
4 84 1 Tenth
NE
4 27 1 2887 57
28 5 (1501
5 1501
59
4
83 2 Tenths NE
Descended in the parish of East Thorpe, near Colchester.
None
None Stationary
None Stationary
ESE
NE
N
ZADŁZZ
E
Remarks made at the different Periods of the above Observations.
Observation 1.-Made at Hackney Wick, at the moment the balloon
was seen rising over the trees, and as the data from which the experi-
ments were to be made during the voyage. The first 10 minutes were
occupied in fixing the instruments, and regulating the gauge of the ba-
rometer. Mr. Sadler directed me to attend solely to the observations,
and that he would himself look to the management of the balloon. As
sisted in putting to rights and coiling away rope, grapnel, &c. &c
which were lying in a confused heap in the bottom of the car. Stuck
the flag-staff through the back of the car, and threw off hat.
Obs. 2.-Threw out two bags of ballast, and soon after a third. A
most enchanting view. Mr. Sadler pointed out some high chalk cliffs,
which he said were the Nore.
Obs. 3. The balloon had a rotatory motion, which tended to confuse
any very distinct idea of situation. This motion most probably caused
by some accidental twirl in the confusion in which the balloon was
launched.
Obs. 4.-Sent off one of the pigeons, marked No. 7, which the instant
it was at liberty flew boldly from the car in a circle, and then towards
the earth at a very considerable angle. View clear and distinct.
Obs. 5.-Mr. Sadler uncorked a bottle of champaigne, and we drank
the health of the Prince Regent, and afterwards that of Sir Daniel
Williams, followed by all friends at Hackney. Did not perceive any
alteration in the senses of taste or smell, either in the wine, or in
ן

Ł
}
+
·
}
#
2656
AEROSTATION.'-
some sandwiches. On removing the cork, the fixed air escaped from
the bottle in the form of a rather denser kind of smoke, and the wine
sparkled with more vivacity than I had remarked on uncorking cham-
paigne on other occasions. It appeared that the gas escaped with
greater facility under the diminished pressure of the atmosphere at this
elevation.
Obs. 6.-Öbserved that the least motion caused by us occasioned
an amazing vibration of the quicksilver in the barometrical tube, some-
times considerably more than an inch. The compass-needle not at all
altered from its horizontal position.
Obs. 7.—Mr. Sadler tried the effect of the valve, to ascertain whe-
ther it was in good order. The gas made its escape through the valve
with a noise precisely similar to that of weak steam rushing through
the valve of a steam boiler.
Obs. 8.-The balloon was now in the midst of a heavy shower of
rain, which was presently changed into a violent hail-storm. The
sound produced by the battering of the hail and rain against the up-
per surface of the balloon, contrasted with the general stillness that
otherwise reigned around the balloon, was very striking. Threw out
a board which had been taken up to answer the purpose of a table, but
not used, because the weight of the load caused the angle formed by
the ropes, by which the car was attached to the netting, to become
.more acute, and we were apprehensive that the edges of the board
would cut the ropes. Threw out the wicker basket. The effect of the
rain and hail on the balloon was exhibited in a copious discharge of
fluid through the neck of the balloon, arising probably from a con-
dension of the warm hydrogen gas, by the constant succession of cold
fluid pouring in torrents on the upper surface of the balloon. This
fluid appeared to have dissolved a portion of the varnish; for wherever
it fell on the clothes or hat it left a permanent stain of a whitish-look-
ing gummy appearance. At this time we experienced a very strong
current of air or wind, not only cold and chilly to the feelings, but ap-
parently blowing from no one particular point of the compass, as it
rushed sometimes from one, at another moment from a directly op-
posite direction. This current of air caused the balloon to acquire a
rotatory vertical motion, which made the compass traverse, as nearly as
I could guess, for I did note it by the watch, once in about 20 or 30
seconds. The confusion round the car at the launching was here pro-
ductive of inconvenience: for the car did not hang perfectly parallel. I
was at the lowest end, and therefore found this vertical motion exceed-
ingly inconvenient. The car was lowest on my right hand; so that
it was not only lowest towards that end, but was lop-sided on my right.
The motion of the balloon was from my left towards my right hand.
The wind made no noise, and would not have been perceptible but for
the freshness of the air on the face, and the singular motion of the
balloon.
Obs. 9.-Mr. Sadler now announced to me that the balloon was pass-
ing through the clouds; and almost immediately after the clouds were
seen beneath, presenting the appearance of fleecy masses. On throw-
ing some small pieces of silver paper over the side of the car, the rapi-
dity with which they appeared to be precipitated downwards convinced
us that the balloon was rapidly ascending. The rain still continued,
and the air damp and chilly to the feelings. We seemed to be station-
AEROSTATION.
657
ary, as far as progress over the country went, but still ascending with
apidity.
Obs. 10.-At this time placed a pigeon, No. 3, on the edge of the
car: the poor animal seemed excessively alarmed, standing on the edge
of the car, and looking round. The earth was concealed from the view
by the clouds beneath. After some little time I precipitated the pigeon
gently from its perch, when it fell like a stone, until lost in the haze,
which was alınost in an instant. As long as it remained in sight it did
not make any attempt to assist itself with its wings. The rain still came
down heavily, and the fluid continued to pour down as before through
the neck of the balloon.

Obs. 11. Mr. Sadler inquired of me the heat by the thermometer,
and on his receiving the answer, directed one of the bottles to be emp-
tied of its water, for the purpose of collecting air: Mr. Sadler observing
at the same time that he thought we were now at as great an elevation
as we should be able to accomplish in the course of the voyage. At this
elevation I could not divest myself of the idea that I heard sounds as of
persons cheering from the earth, though it was not possible that it
could arise from any such cause, as the balloon was still above the
clouds, and we could not distinguish any thing but the dense white
clouds, which now appeared precisely like a thick October fog, The
air felt damp and chilly, and the rain still continued, though less vio-
lently than before. The breath was particularly visible; and from the
circumstance of my having been without a hat during the whole of the
excursion, it is most probable that the sounds I fancied I heard was
merely a ringing in the ears, the effect of the damp. Tried the experi-
ment repeatedly of looking towards the earth, and shouting as loudly as
possible to ascertain whether the sound would be returned by echo or
reflection from below; but no such effect followed. Got into a clear at-
mosphere, the white clouds remaining as before beneath; but on look-
ing upwards, there was a mixture of blue and white clouds, though
with a great preponderance of blue, just as is usual in a moderate clear
day below.
Obs. 12.-The blue sky seemed to be of a dark and clearer blue than
I had generally seen. Mr. Sadler now proposed descending into a
clearer atmosphere, for the sake of getting a view of the earth, it being
still concealed from the view by the dense white clouds below. This
was in consequence of our noticing that 22 minutes before four the wind
had reverted to the old point, and Mr. Sadler's experience led him to
conclude that the balloon could not be now far distant from the sea;
judging from the rate at which we had traversed over the country, as
long as objects were distinguishable. Turned off a pigeon, No. 4, and
it would not leave the car, but continued to look about as if frightened,
and then turned its head inward, without attempting to escape. When
pushed off the side of the car, it fluttered, and used the most violent
exertions to regain the car; but as notwithstanding all its exertions it
continued to sink rapidly below the car, it at length extended its wings,
keeping them apparently immovable, and darted towards the earth, at
an angle considerably inclined, with the rapidity of a hawk making
his swoop. It was very remarkable that almost at the same moment a
common house fly, apparently much benumbed, and scarcely compe-
tent to common exertion, crawled from beneath my seat, and without
any difficulty flew with facility upwards, and settled on the lower part
•



4 P
1
#
658
AEROSTATION.
of the net of the balloon, a good deal above our heads. It appears cu-
rious that so small an insect, and that too partly incapacitated, should
be able to fly up to the balloon with the same rapidity as usual, when a
far more powerful animal should have sunk from the car almost like a
piece of wood thrown overboard. Mr. Sadler now pulled the string of
the valve; the gas rushed out with somewhat less noise and violence
than before, but the balloon was evidently rapidly sinking: it was a
sinking perfectly sensible to the feelings, even had we not been informed
by constant reference to the barometer. In ascending, there is a sen-
sation of lifting, or more properly of pressure on the soles of the feet
and the under side of the thighs; whereas, in sinking, this sensation
disappears. On opening the valve there was a copious discharge of
water through the balloon, as before; but it did not appear of so glu-
tinous a nature as that before spoken of: it was probably merely the
rain which had lodged on the upper side of the valve.
Obs. 13.-At this time I felt a trifling pressure in the ear,
and some
little deafness; but this most probably was the effect of the damp at-
mosphere, and being without a hat; which is by the bye a great incon-
venience in such situations, on account of the ropes.
•
As soon as the balloon descended into a region from which the earth
was perceptible, Mr. Sadler's conjectures proved just; as we saw, ap-
parently at no great distance from us, the wide expanse of the Northern
Ocean. The sensation of deafness did not go off for more than a quar-
ter of an hour afterwards, even notwithstanding the balloon had greatly
decreased in point of elevation. Until this trifling deafness, there did
not appear to be the smallest difference between the intensity of sound
at the greatest elevation, and at the surface of the earth. We conversed
in, our usual tone of voice, and any casual operation, such as drawing
the cork of the champaign, &c. was heard just as usual. If any thing,
the universal stillness invited rather a lower tone of voice than ordinary.
Obs. 14.-Released the pigeon, No. 1, and placed it on the edge of
the car, which like the former did not attempt to escape till pushed
off from the car.
Obs. 15.—Sent off the pigeon, No. 6: saw a flock of sheep very dis-
tifictly in the turnpike-road, going in a direction from London.
Obs. 16.-Sent off the pigeon, No. 5; Mr. Sadler now announced that
it would be necessary to look out for some convenient spot at which to
attempt a landing; saw people below at plough; called out to them;
but they did not seem to be within hearing, as they did not appear to
be aware of the balloon.
Obs. 17.-Mr. Sadler now cautioned me that the instruments must
be removed, and directed that they, should be taken into my lap. He
told me likewise to be prepared, on his giving the word to heave over-
board every thing that would admit of it, with a view of breaking the
force of the descent. Mr. Sadler and myself were also to place our feet
against the corners of the opposite seat, and then raise ourselves as
much as possible with our hands by clinging to the ropes, taking care
to raise our hands as high as possible above our heads.
Obs. 18.-Turned off the pigeon, No. 2: this last flew away imme-
diately, but afterwards returned to the balloon, and flew round it several
times, but without attempting to settle on the car. The live stock being
thus reduced down to one, the bag that contained it was tied to one of
the cords of the car, and I then hastened to cut away the ligatures by
▸

AEROSTATION.
659
which the different instruments were, secured. In the meantime Mr.
Sadler was lightening the balloon of part of a bottle of champaign, and
emptied out the remaining bottle of water.
The balloon was approaching the ground fast, when Mr. Sadler gave
the order to lighten, while he held the valve with both his hands to
keep it open. I threw overboard the whole of the remaining ballast,
and some two or three other useless articles. Mr. Sadler, when he gave
the word for lightening the balloon, at the same instant let go the grap
nel. The grapnel continued to drag for a few hundred yards, and I
had just time enough to place myself as directed to do, with the instru-
ments secured in the best way the hurry of the moment would admit,
when the car bounded from the ground, and after passing over a hedge,
and dragging a few feet more, it lay along on its side. We continued
firm in our situations, without attempting to stir, until some persons,
who were working close by, in a field over which the balloon had passed
in its descent, came to our assistance. The balloon was soon secured,
and we were released from the possibility of any farther bumping. The
descent was considered by Mr. Sadler as being particularly favourable;
though, to speak candidly, I formed a very decided opinion as to the
uneasy situation of a descent, which Mr. Sadler, after his long experi
ence, would deem dangerous; for the rapidity with which the car de-
scended through the last 50 or 100 feet on this occasion, and the ex-
traordinary sensation occasioned by the first bound, which is not unlikę
the dislocating shock of a galvanic battery, very much exceeded my
pre-conceived idea as to the nature of a descent. The balloon grounded
in a fine grass meadow, in the parish of East Thorpe, near Colchester,
and was secured by the assistance of the proprietor of the farm, Mr.
Thomas Ely, who was the first person that arrived to lend his friendly
aid, and to whose house we, together with our apparatus, proceeded.
On questioning some of the country people who lent a hand in se-
curing the balloon, they told us that they had heard us calling and
cheering them as we passed over their heads; and that they had very
distinctly seen the water that was emptied out of the bottle, which ap-
pears by the journal to have been about five minutes after four. They
described it as appearing like a stream of smoke or vapour issuing from
the car.
Almost as soon as the balloon touched the ground, a man brought the
bottle of champaign unhurt, which had been thrown out by Mr.
Sadler at an elevation of full 1000 or 1500 feet. The man said he
picked it up in a ploughed field. The bottle was about two-thirds full,
and loosely corked. One of the most remarkable circumstances that I
observed was, that the balloon, whether in ascending or descending,
provided the change in elevation was effected with rapidity, invariably
formed an umbrella over our heads. The lower part, instead of hang-
ing down, as might have been supposed on a first view of the mat-
ter, was raised upwards, and formed a concave circle over our heads;
the convex side of the arch corresponding with that of the crown of
the balloon. This, on reflection, seems to have been caused in both
cases by the pressure of the atmosphere. In the descent, the weight
below the balloon tended to compress the air against the lower side
of the bag, and thus the parachute was formed by the compression of
the air, because it could not escape with sufficient ease by flowing over
the edges. In the ascent, on the contrary, it is probable that as the
}
G
,
?
660
ÁERÒSTATION.
upper side of the balloon displaced a much larger portion of air than
the lower extremity, in proportion as the balloon when in the air as-
sumes nine times in ten a pear shape, and not a sphere, unless at very
considerable elevations, the air which has been so displaced by the
upper part of the balloon in ascending, rushes from all directions to
re-occupy the space left in the wake of the bag, and therefore it seems
that the parachute thus formed in ascending is merely the effect of the
eddy caused by the rapid displacement of the air.
I paid particular attention to this, because it struck me as some-
thing curious, which I had not heard mentioned by former voyagers;
and I found that, in cases wherein the balloon was nearly stationary
in point of vertical change of position, the lower side of the balloon
hung down just as would be the case under usual circumstances.
In this voyage we experienced the inconvenience which so often
occurs in aerostatic trips in insular situations; the wind being general-
ly in such a situation, with regard to the -position of London, as to
carry the balloon towards the sea, and not inland. The balloon too
that was used on this occasion was only 35 feet in diameter, and had
been repeatedly used, and appeared to have not only suffered in the
texture, but also to have gained much additional weight, from repeat-
ed varnishings.
That it was not at all calculated for the purposes of experiment seem-
ed sufficiently proved by the exceedingly unpleasant smell of hydrogen
gas which accompanied us throughout the voyage, and which it was
concluded arose from its escape through the little cracks and orifices in
the silk and varnish. There is no doubt that any voyage undertaken
for the purpose of making experiments should be in a balloon of much
greater power than that used on the 29th of August. The utmost ele-
vation attained on this day was very little more than a mile, which is a
difference of altitude not capable of exhibiting any variation from ge-
neral laws sufficient to make it worth while to incur the expense of a
journey. That experiments should be made correctly, if they be made
at all, no one will be prepared to deny; and therefore it should be con-
sidered as a point settled, that not less than two persons should ascend
together. The management of the balloon is quite sufficient to engage
the attention of one person; and if any thing would tend to shake one's
confidence in the extraordinary reports of some aerial travellers, it
would be the very fact of their having been alone, and therefore, it is
inferred, not by any means so much at their ease, or their undivided
attention so much at command, as would have been requisite to read
off, for example, the barometrical heights to the nicety they have pre-
tended. It is unnecessary to point out the particular points in which
we found that our observations difforod from or confirmed the reports of
others, as most of the excursion's undertaken, either for amusement or
information, are pretty generally known. It does not appear, however,
that the vertical rotation experienced in the course of this voyage, when
the balloon 'encountered the storm and current of air has been mention-
ed by any former travellers, with the exception of Count Zambeccari,
who made an ascent with Admiral Sir Edward Vernon, at London, 28d
March 1783.
ANA
י
!





O
.
1
661
1
CHAP. XXII.
INVENTIONS FOR THE PRESERVATION OF
HUMAN LIFE.
WHATEVER faults may be imputed to the present age, it cannot
justly be denied the praise of benevolence and humanity. Charitable
institutions have arisen at every corner of our streets; schools have been
established in every direction for the benefit of the children of the poor;
and last, not least, the talents of ingenious men and eminent philo-
sophers have been devoutly and successfully applied to the relief and
prevention of those fatal accidents to which mankind are subject.
Among the discoveries of recent times, which next to the introduction
of the cow-pock, demand the gratitude of ourselves, and of every fu-
ture generation, the inventions of Mr. Greathead and Captain Manby for
the preservation of shipwrecked persons-and of Professor Davy, for
the prevention of those deplorable explosions which have frequently oc-
curred in coal mines-are peculiarly worthy of commemoration, and
we shall therefore present a connected epitome of these important plans.
We shall begin with Mr. Greathead, who, like Captain Manby, has had
the good fortune to revive the hope of shipwrecked mariners, in situa-
tions, where it has been hitherto extinct, and to snatch them from the
jaws of death, in the short suspense between danger and destruction.
It appears that when a ship called the Adventure was wrecked, in
1789, on the Herd Sands, Sir Cuthbert Heron offered a reward for any
seamen to go off to save the men's lives; but all refused. The greatest
part of the crew of the Adventure perished within three hundred yards
of the shore, and in sight of a multitude of spectators. The gentle-
men of South Shields immediately met, and offered a reward to any
person who would give in a plan of a boat, which should be approved,
for the preservation of men's lives. Mr. Greathead gave in a plan,
which met with approbation; a committee was formed, and a subscrip-
tion raised for the building of a boat on that plan. After it was built,
it was with some difficulty that the saprs were persuaded to go off in
her, but at last they were prevailed upon by the promise of a reward,
and brought the crew of a stranded vessel on shore. Since that time
the boat has been readily manned, and no lives have been lost, except
in the instance of the crews trusting to their own boats. Had Mr.
Greathead's boat existed at the time of the wreck of the Adventure, the
crew would have been saved.


The length of the boat is thirty feet; the breadth ten feet; the depth,
from the top of the gunwale to the lower part of the keel in midships,
three feet three inches; from the gunwale to the platform (within), two
feet four inches; from the top of the stems (both ends being similar)
to the horizontal line of the bottom of the keel, five feet nine inches.
The keel is a plank of three inches thick, of a proportionate breadth in
midships, narrowing gradually towards the ends, to the breadth of the
stems at the bottom, and forming a great convexity downwards. The
stems are segments of a circle, with considerable rakes. The bottom
1
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662
INVENTIONS FOR THK
section to the floor heads, is a curve fore and aft, with the sweep of
the keel. The floor timber has a small rise, curving from the keel to
the floor-heads. A bilge plank is wrought in on each side next the
floor-heads with a double rabbit or groove, of a similar thickness with
the keel; and, on the outside of this, are fixed two bilge-trees, corre-
sponding nearly with the level of the keel. The ends of the bottom
section form that fine kind of entrance observable in the lower part of
the bow of the fishing boat, called a coble, much used in the north.
From this part to the top of the stem it is more elliptical, forming a
considerable projection. The sides, from the floor heads to the top of
the gunwale, flaunch off on each side, in proportion to about half the
breadth of the floor. The breadth is continued far forward towards the
ends, leaving a sufficient length of straight side at the top. The sheer
is regular along the straight side, and more elevated towards the ends.
The gunwale, fixed on the outside, is three inches thick.-The sides,
from the under part of the gunwale, along the whole length of the re-
gular sheer, extending twenty-one feet six inches, are cased with layers
of cork, to the depth of sixteen inches downward; and the thickness
of this casing of cork being four inches, it projects at the top a little
without the gunwale. The cork on the outside is secured with thin
plates or slips of copper, and the boat is fastened with copper nails.
The thwarts, or seats, are five in number, double banked, consequently
the boat may be rowed with ten oars. The thwarts are firmly stan-
chioned. The side oars are short, with iron tholes and rope grommets,
so that the rower can pull either way. The boat is steered with an
oar at each end; and the steering oar is one third longer than the row-
ing oar. The platform placed at the bottom, within the boat, is hori-
zontal, the length of the midships, and elevated at the ends, for the
convenience of the steersman, to give him a greater power with the oar.
The internal part of the boat next the sides, from the under part of the
thwarts down to the platform, is cased with cork; the whole quantity
of which, affixed to the life boat, is nearly seven hundred weight. The
cork indisputably contributes much to the buoyancy of the boat, is a
good defence in going alongside a vessel, and is of principal use in
keeping the boat in an erect position in the sea, or rather of giving her
a very lively and quick disposition to recover from any sudden cant or
lurch which she may receive from the stroke of a heavy wave. But,
exclusive of the cork, the admirable construction of this boat gives it a
decided pre-eminence, the ends being similar, the boat can be rowed
either way; and this peculiarity of form alleviates her rising over the
waves. The curvature of the keel, and bottom facilitates her movement
in turning, and contributes to the ease of the steerage, as a single
stroke of the steering oar has an immediate effect, the boat moving as it
were upon a centre. The fine entrance below is of use in dividing the
waves when rowing against them; and, combined with the convexity
of the bottom, and the eliptical form of the stem, admits her to rise
with wonderful buoyancy in a high sea, and to launch forward with
rapidity, without shipping any water, when a common boat would be
in danger of being filled. The flanching, or spreading form of the boat,
from the floor heads to the gunwale, gives her a considerable bearing ;
the continuation of the breadth, well forward, is a great support to
her in the sea; and it has been found by experience, that boats of this
construction are the best sea boats for rowing against turbulent waves.
筷
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PRESERVATION OF LIFE.
663
The internal shallowness of the boat, from the gunwale down to the
platform, the convexity of the form, and the bulk of cork within, leave
a very diminished space for the water to occupy; so that the life boat,
when filled with water, contains a considerable less quantity than the
common boat, and is in no danger either of sinking or overturning. It
may be presumed, by some, that in cases of high wind, agitated sea,
and broken waves, that a boat of such a bulk could not prevail against
them by the force of the oars; but the life boat, from her peculiar form,
may be rowed a-head, when the attempt in other boats would fail.
Boats of the common form, adapted for speed, are of course put in mo-
tion with a small power; but for want of buoyancy and bearing, are
overrun by the waves and sunk, when impelled against them: and
boats constructed for burthen meet with too much resistance from the
wind and sea, when opposed to them, and cannot, in such cases, be
rowed from the shore to a ship in distress. An idea has been entertain-
ed, that the superior advantages of the life boat are to be ascribed
solely to the quantity of cork affixed. But this is a very erroneous
opinion; and, I trust, has been amply refuted by the preceding obser-
vations on the supereminent construction of this boat. It must be ad-
mitted, that the application of cork to common boats would add to their
buoyancy and security; and it might be an useful expedient if there
were a quantity of cork on board of ships, to prepare the boats with, in
cases of shipwreck, as it might be expeditiously done, in a temporary
way, by means of clamps, or some other contrivance. The application
of cork to some of the boats of his majesty's ships might be worthy of
consideration: more particularly as an experiment might be made at a
little expence, and without inconvenience to the boats or may prevent
pleasure boats from upsetting or sinking.
The life boat is kept in a boat house, and placed upon four low
wheels, ready to be moved at a moment's notice. These wheels are
convenient in conveying the boat along the shore to the sea; but if
she had to travel upon them on a rough road, her frame would be ex-
ceedingly shaken. Besides, it has been found difficult and troublesome
to replace her upon these wheels on her return from the sea. Another
plan has therefore been adopted. Two wheels of nine feet diameter,
with a moveable arched anis, and a pole fixed thereto for a lever, have
been constructed. The boat is suspended near her centre, between
the wheels under the axis; toward each extremity of which is an iron
pin, with a chain attached. When the pole is elevated perpendicularly,
the upper part of the axis becomes depressed, and the chains being
hooked to eye-bolts on the inside of the boat, she is raised with the
utmost facility, by means of the pole, which is then fastened down to
the stem of the boat.
The Scarborough boat is under the direction of a committee. Twenty-
four fishermen, composing two crews, are alternately employed to navi-
gate her.
A reward, in cases of shipwreck, is paid by the committee to
each man actually engaged in the assistance; and it is expected that
the vessel receiving assistance should contribute to defray this expence.
None have hitherto refused.
It is of importance that the command of the boat should be entrust-
ed to some steady experienced person, who is acquainted with the di-
rection of the tides or currents as much skill may be required in rising
them to the most advantage in going to a ship in distress. It should
7
664
INVENTIONS FOR THE
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Y
also be recommended to keep the head of the boat to the sea, as much
as circumstances will admit; and to give her an accelerated velocity to
meet the wave. Much caution is necessary in approaching a wreck, on
account of the strong reflux of the waves, which is sometimes attended
with great danger. In a general way, it is safest to go on the lee-
quarter; but this depends upon the position of the vessel; and the
master of the boat should exercise his skill in placing her in the most
convenient situation. The boatmen should practise themselves in the
use of the boat, that they may be the better acquainted with her move
ments; and they should at all times be strictly obedient to the direc-
tions of the person who is appointed to the command.
The great ingenuity which has been displayed in the construction of
the life boat, leaves scarcely any room for improvement: but some have
supposed, that a boat of twenty-five feet in length, with a proportionate
breadth, would answer every purpose of a larger one. A boat of these
dimensions would certainly be lighter, and less expensive; but whether
she would be equally safe and steady in a high sea, I cannot take
on myself to determine.
up-


In the year 1791, the crew of a brig, belonging to Sunderland, and
laden from the westward, were preserved by this life boat, the vessel
at the same time breaking to pieces by the force of the sea.
On January 1st, 1795, the ship Parthenius, of Newcastle, was driven
on the Herd Sand, and the life boat went to her assistance, when the
sea breaking over the ship as the boat was ranging along-side, the boat
was so violently shaken that her bottom was actually hanging loose;
under these circumstances, she was three times off to the ship, without
being affected by the water in her.
The ship Peggy being also on the Herd Sand, the life boat went off,
and brought the crew on shore, when the plug in her bottom had been
accidentally left out; though she filled with water in consequence, yet
she effected the purpose in that situation.
In the latter part of the year 1796, a sloop, belonging to Mr Brymer,
from Scotland, laden with bale goods, was wrecked on the Herd
Sands; the crew and passengers were taken out by the life boat; the
vessel went to pieces at the time the boat was employed; the goods
were scattered on the sand, and part of them lost.
In the same year, a vessel, named the Countess of Errol, was driven
on the Herd Sand, and the crew saved by the life boat.
October 15th, 1797, the sloop, called Fruit of Friends, from Leith,
coming to South Shields, was driven on the Herd Sand. One part of
the passengers, in attempting to come on shore in the ship's boat, was
unfortunately drowned; the other part was brought on shore safe by
the life boat.
t
The account of Captain William Carter, of Newcastle, states, that
on the 28th of November 1797, the ship Planter, of London, was
driven on shore near Tynemouth-bar, by the violence of a gale; the
life boat caine out, and took fifteen persons from the ship, which the
boat had scarcely quitted before the ship went to pieces; that, without
the boat, they must all have inevitably perished, as the wreck came on
shore soon after the life boat. He conceived that no boat, of a com-
mon construction, could have given relief at that time. The ships,
Gateshead and Mary of Newcastle, the Beaver of North Shields, and
a sloop, were in the same situation with the Planter. The crew of the
7
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PRESERVATION OF LIFE
665
7
Gateshead, nine in number, took to their own boat, which sunk, and
seven of them were lost; the other two saved themselves by ropes
thrown from the Mary. After the life boat had landed the crew of the
Planter, she went off successively to the other vessels, and brought the
whole of their crews safe to shore, together with the two persons who
had escaped from the boat of the Gateshead.
Mr. Carter adds, that he has seen the life boat go to the assistance
of other vessels, at different times, and that she ever succeeded in bring-
ing the crews on shore; that he had several times observed her to come
on shore full of water, and always safe.
An account of the Northumberland Life Boat.
The Northumberland life boat, so called from its being built at the
expence of his Grace the Duke of Northumberland, and presented by
him to North Shields, was first employed in November 1798, when
she went off to the relief of the sloop Edinburgh, of Kincardine, which
was seen to go on the Herd Sands, about a mile and a half from the
shore. Ralph Hillery, one of the seamen who went out in the life
boat to her assistance, relates, that she was brought to an anchor before
the life boat got to her; that the ship continued to strike the ground so
heavily, that she would not have held together ten minutes longer, had
not the life boat arrived; they made her cut her cable, and then took
seven men out of her, and brought them on shore; that the sea was
at that time so monstrously high, that no other boat whatever could
have lived in it. He stated, that in the event of the life boat filling
with water, she would continue still upright, and would not founder,
as boats of a common construction do; that he has seen her go
off
scores of times, and never saw her fail in bringing off such of the crews
as staid by their ships.
It also saved (as appears from other accounts) the crew of the brig
Clio, of Sunderland, when she struck upon the rocks called the Black
Middens, on the north side of the entrance of Tynemouth Haven.
October 25th, 1799, the ship Quintilian, from St. Petersburgh, drove
on the Herd Sand, from the force of the sea, wind at N. E. knocked
her rudder off, and was much damaged; but the crew were brought
on shore by the life boat. The great utility of this life boat is also con-
firmed by many other recent circumstances: one among which is that
of the ship Sally, of Sunderland, which, in taking the harbour of
Tynemouth, on December 25th, 1801, at night, struck on the bar: the
crew were brought on shore by the life boat, but the ship was driven
among the rocks.
7
On the 22d of January 1802, in a heavy gale of wind, from the
N. N. W. the ship Thomas and Alice, in attempting the harbour of
South Shields, was driven on the Herd Sand: the Northumberland
life boat went to her assistance; took, as was supposed, all the people
out, and pulled away from the ship to make the harbour, when they
were waved to return by a man who had been below deck. On taking
this man out they encountered a violent gust of wind, under the quarter
of the ship; the ship at the same time drove among the breakers;
and, entangling the boat with her, broke most of the oars on that side
of the boat next the ship, and filled the boat with water. By the shock
several of the oars were knocked out of the hands of the rowers, and
that of the steersman. In this situation, the steersman quickly replaced
4 Q
666
INVENTIONS FOR THE
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his oar from one of those left in the boat, and swept the boat before
the sea, filled with water inside as high as the midship gunwale: the
boat was steered in this situation, before the wind and sea, a distance
far exceeding a mile, and landed twenty-one men, including the boat's
crew, without any accident, but being wet.
Account of the Scarborough Life Boat, by Thomas Hinderwell.
SIR-The life boat at Scarborough, which was built without the least
deviation from the model and the plan which you sent here at my re-
quest, has even exceeded the most sanguine expectations; and I have
now received experimental conviction of its great utility in cases of ship-
wreck, and of its perfect safety in the most agitated sea. Local pre-
judices will ever exist against novel inventions, however excellent may
be the principles of their construction; and there were some at this
place, who disputed the performance of the life boat, until a circum-
stance lately happened, which brought it to the test of experience, and
removed every shadow of objection, even from the most prejudiced
minds.
On Monday, the 2d of November, we were visited with a most tre-
mendous storm from the eastward, and I scarcely ever remember see-
ing a more mountainous sea. The Aurora, of Newcastle, in approach-
ing the harbour, was driven ashore to the southward; and, as she was
in the most imminent danger, the life boat was immediately launched
to her assistance. The place where the ship lay was exposed to the
whole force of the sea, and she was surrounded with broken water,
which dashed over the decks with considerable violence. In such a
perilous situation the life boat adventured, and proceeded through the
breach of the sea, rising on the summit of the waves, without shipping
any water, except a little from the spray. On going upon the lee-
quarter of the vessel, they were endangered by the main-boom, which
had broken loose, and was driving about with great force, This com-
pelled them to go along side, and they instantly took out four of the
crew; but the sea which broke over the decks having nearly filled the
boat with water, they were induced to put off for a moment, when
seeing three boys (the remainder of the crew) clinging to the rigging,
and in danger of perishing, they immediately returned, and took them
into the boat, and brought'the whole to land in safety. By means of
the life boat, built from your plan, and the exertions of the boatmen,
seven men and boys were thus saved to their country and their friends,
and preserved from the inevitable destruction which otherwise awaited
them. The boat was not in the least affected by the water which
broke into her when alongside the vessel; and, indeed, the boatmen
thought it rendered her more steady in the sea, I must also add, that
it was the general opinion, that no other boat of the common construc-
tion could have possibly performed this service; and the fishermen,
though very adventurous, declared they would not have made the at-
tempt in their own boats.
We have appointed a crew of fishermen to manage the boat, under
the direction of the committee, and the men are so much satisfied with
the performance of the boat, and so confident in her safety, that they
are emboldened to adventure upon the most dangerous occasion. I
have been thus circumstantial, in order to shew the great utility of the
life boat; and, I should think, it would be rendering an essential ser-
***.
[


PRESERVATION OF LIFE.
667
i
vice to the community, if any recommendation of mine should contri-
bute to bring this valuable invention into more general use.—I remain,
Sir, &c..
Captain Manby's Apparatus.
Those who have had the opportunity of seeing the pictures of deso-
lation realized on the eastern and north-eastern coasts of our island, and
who have beheld the dreadful train of consequences that ensue; the
agonizing cries of the sailors;-the torturing suspense of the by-standers
on the beach;-the dead bodies washed on shore;-and too often the la-
mentations of the wife or child over the body of an honest and industri-
ous parent;-can best appreciate the merits of Captain Manby. He was
a captain of engineers, and held the station of barrack-master at Yar-
mouth, on the coast of Norfolk, in the year 1807. It is well known,
that the coast for several leagues N. of that port, and, indeed, the whole
eastern coast of our island, is peculiarly dangerous to navigators in the
winter months, and totally unprovided with serure harbours. The con-
sequence is, that many ships are unavoidably driven ashore, or rather
upon the shoals of the coast, which will seldom permit the approach of
a wreck within less than 100 yards of the land. Frequent are the in-
stances in which vessels thus fixed within sight of their owners, and
crews, whose cries were within hearing of their friends and relations,
have been beaten to pieces by the waves, and engulphed in the deep,
without the possibility of affording any assistance, from the want of
means to establish a communication either by a boat, or by a rope, with
the object in danger. It is obvious, that if communication, even by a
slender packthread, can once be established between a stranded vessel
and persons on shore, a rope may first be run out, and then a cable, by
means of which the crew, and the most valuable parts of the cargo, may
be successively drawn to the land. The following extracts from the
preface give an account of the events which first drew Captain Manby's
attention to the subject, and of the difficulties which he had to sur-
mount; the perusal of them will render the description of the means,
to which he had recourse, both more intelligible and more interesting.
“The dreadful events of the 18th of February 1807, when his ma-
jesty's gun-brig Snipe was driven on shore. near the Haven's mouth
at Yarmouth, first made an impression on my mind, which has never
been effaced. At the close of that melancholy scene, after several hours
of fruitless attempt to save the crew, upwards of sixty persons were.
lost, though not more than fifty yards from the shore, and this wholly
owing to the impossibility of conveying a rope to their assistance. At
that crisis a ray of hope beamed upon me, and I resolved immediately
to devote my mind to the discovery of some means for affording relief
in cases of similar distress and difficulty. It is matter of no small con-
solation, when I reflect that my efforts were soon crowned with the
happiest success, and have been already instrumental to the preserva-
tion of ninety souls from a watery grave, of which seventy-seven were
my countrymen, and thirteen unfortunate Hollanders.
.
"In the prosecution of my object considerable difficulty presented it-
self, viz. in the case of vessels grounding on a bar, when running for a
narbour, as their only chance of safety; the broken water, by giving
no resistance to the blade of the oar, prevents a boat from pulling up to
the ship's aid, though within ten or twenty yards of her. My attention
668
INVENTIONS FOR THE
t
became here engaged in the construction of a small piece of ordnance
for the purpose of projecting a rope from the boat so as to communicate
in such circumstances with the ship. A small portable mortar was also
essential, the better to ensure a prompt and effectual communication,
at a period when each successive instant was big with the fate of an
entire ship's company.
"The dreadful event also of a Swedish brig, called the Wandering
Main, driven on shore at Hasbro', in the night of the 5th of January
1809, imprinted on my feelings the necessity of contriving a method of
affording the same assistance at the more awful hour of night, when
darkness doubles the danger, and baffles even the experienced naviga-
tor. It was on this lamented occasion, a dark and dismal night, when
objects were scarcely discernible, that numerous unavailing attempts
were made to project a rope to the vessel by the means successfully used
in the day; but its flight could not be observed, either by the persons
on shore or those on board, and seven long and anxious hours elapsed
before the light of day favoured the endeavours to effect the much-
desired communication; when, at the very instant the cot reached the
vessel, she went to pieces, and every soul on board perished!"
We may add also, that in one day only, viz. the 10th Nov. 1810, the
crews of sixty-five vessels, wrecked on our N. E. coasts, entirely perish-
ed within one hundred yards of the shore. The number of souls was
estimated at 500;—and it is fair to presume, from the result of experi-
ence, that if the apparatus of which we are about to give a short de-
scription had been within reach, 460 of these lives might have been
saved. On these data some probable estimate may be formed of the
annual saving of lives to the nation, from the general adoption of the
apparatus on the coasts of our islands.
We have already stated, that the object in view was to discover some
certain means of projecting a rope in boisterous weather from the land
to a ship stranded on a shoal at some distance. The active and philan-
thropic mind of Captain Manby was not tardy in pointing out a proba-
ble method. It struck him that a cannon shot affixed to a rope, and
projected from a piece of ordnance over a stranded vessel, was a prac-
ticable mode of establishing the communication. But to reduce it to
practice was found to be attended with much greater difficulty than the
simplicity of the object seemed at first sight to promise.
In the first place, the faking or manner of laying the rope so as to
unfold itself with the rapidity equal to the flight of a shell from a mor-
tar, without breaking by sudden jerks at each returning fold, and with-
out entanglement from the effect of uneven ground and boisterous winds,
was no easy task. But it was at length attained by adopting what is
called a French faking, in folds of the length of two yards; and by
laying the rope in a flat basket always kept ready, with the rope in
order, in a secure place; so that it could be transported at a moment's
notice to the situation required, and laid upon rocks and uneven
ground, even in the most boisterous weather, without fear of disar-
rangement.
The next difficulty consisted in the means of connecting the rope with
a shot, so as to resist the inflammation of gunpowder in that part of it
which must necessarily occupy the interior of the mortar. Chains in
every variety of form and strength universally broke from the sudden
jerks or play to which they were liable, "which proved, that not only
PRESERVATION OF LIFE.
669
65
an elastic, but a more connected body was necessary." "At length,"
says Captain Manby, some stout platted hide, woven extremely close
to the eye of the shot to prevent the slightest play, extending about
two feet beyond the muzzle of the piece, and with a loop at the end to
receive the rope, happily effected it.”
This apparatus projected over a vessel stranded on a lee-shore from a
small howitzer, so light as to be easily conveyed from one part of the
coast to another, affords a certain means of saving the lives of the crew
in the day-time, and when from cold and fatigue they are not disabled
from seizing and fastening the rope, and in other respects, joining their
own exertions to those of their friends on shore. The following extract
from an account of experiments made before some colonels and field-
officers of artillery, shew the celerity with which the service may be
performed.
"A person is completely equipped with every necessary apparatus
to effect communication with a vessel driven on a lee-shore, A man
mounted on horseback was exhibited, accoutred with a deal frame, con-
taining 200 yards of log line ready coiled for service, which was slung
as a knapsack; with a brass howitzer of a three-pounder bore on its
carriage, and two rounds of ammunition, the whole weighing 62
pounds, strapped on the fore part of the saddle. The person thus
equipped is supposed to be enabled to travel with expedition to the aid
of ships in danger of being wrecked on parts of the coast intermediate
to the mortar stations; and with this small apparatus, the log line is to
be projected over the vessel in distress, from which a rope should be
attached to it to haul the crew on shore. Captain Manby caused the
howitzer to be dismounted from the horse, and in a few minutes fired
it, when the shot was thrown, with the line attached, to the distance
of 143 yards.
"At a subseqnent trial the horseman, fully equipped, travelled a
mile and a third; the howitzer was dismounted, and the line projected
153 yards, in six-minutes.”
In order more fully to explain the mode of operation, we lay before
our readers a sketch of the apparatus in full activity.
Cras
He
"3



+
[syn
670
INVENTIONS FOR THE
r
Such is the simple but efficacious nature of Captain Manby's first in
vention; and a few practical experiments soon ascertained the allowance
to be made in pointing the mortar to windward of the object over
which the rope is to fall, in order to obviate the effect of a strong wind,
which would, of course, carry it considerably to leeward.
Experience also proved, that the mortar should be laid at a low ele-
vation, in order to ensure the certainty of the rope's falling on the wea-
thermost part of the rigging.
This original invention, however, was obviously capable of many
improvements. The first of which was to afford assistance to vessels
whose crews, either from their being lashed to the rigging, or from
extreme cold and fatigue, are incapable of assisting to secure the rope
to the wreck when projected over it from the mortar. This was at-
tained by adding a quadruple barb to the shot, by means of which,
when the rope is hauled tight by the people on shore, one end is firmly
secured on some part of the rigging or wreck, and a boat can of course
be hauled to the relief of the crew, without any assistance on their part.
Eag
Q
The following is one of the many certificates of the practical benefits
that have resulted from this improvement:
(c
We, the crew of the brig, Nancy, of Sunderland, do hereby certify,
that we were on board the said vessel, when she was stranded on the
beach of Yarmouth, on Friday morning the 15th of December 1809,
and compelled to secure ourselves in the rigging, to prevent being
swept away, the sea running so high over the vessel. And we do fur-
ther declare and certify, that Captain Manby firing a rope with a hook-
ed shot securely holding on the wreck, enabled a boat to be hauled from
the shore over the surf to our relief otherwise we must inevitably have
perished."
Signed by six persons.
Ships are also stranded by night more frequently than by day, and
generally in dark and boisterous nights; and to wait till day-light for
the application of this apparatus might of course eventually preclude all
its benefits.
The weather, also, upon an open coast, during a storm, is seldom fa-
vourable for the inflammation of gunpowder; and some attempts to save
the lives of the shipwrecked had actually failed from the wetness of the
powder and the difficulty of keeping a portfire burning. Captain Manby
at first attempted to obviate this last inconvenience by the use of a pistol
lock and short barrel; but he found the following ingenious contrivance
by far the most efficacious mode of securing a discharge: A short fun-
nel-shaped tube of common writing paper is filled with a preparation of
*


PRESERVATION OF LIFE.
671
gunpowder, and stuck into the touch-hole of the mortar; and Captain
Manby carries in his pocket a small phial of liquid, with which he wets
the end of his finger, and applying it to the gunpowder tube, produces
instant inflammation and a discharge of the mortar, even in the wettest
weather. We believe that there are several preparations known to che-
mists which will produce this effect; but this by no means detracts from
the merit of Captain Manby's application of one of them to this specific
and beneficial purpose, or weakens his claim to the merit of any advan-
tage which the general service may derive from discharging battering
artillery in the same manner. It is not the mere inventor of an insula-
ted fact, converted to no purpose of practical utility, that has a just
claim upon the gratitude of mankind, but he who converts an object,
but little known or little used, to new purposes-and his claim is great,
exactly in proportion to the extent of the advantages derivable from the
nature of those purposes.

1
The preservation of human life from sudden and violent termination
is an object of the highest importance, both with a view to policy and
humanity. But when the exertions for such a purpose are occupied on
behalf of our fellow countrymen engaged in the sea service, of men who
expose their lives to double risk, to the storm and to the battle, for the
comfort and safety of those who sit at home-they are doubtless at least
doubly interesting. And though we are far from wishing to derogate
from the portion of credit due to the prosecution of science for any fa-
cilities that may be offered, we must strenuously insist that the man who
first converts scientific discoveries to noble purposes of practical utility,
not previously in the contemplation of philosophers, has a just and fair
claim to the title of an original inventor.

It now remains that we explain to our readers the ingenious method
by which Captain Manby contrived to extend the assistance (afforded
by his first invention to ships stranded in the day-time), to those wreck-
ed even in the darkest nights. The requisite objects were,
1. First, to devise the means of discovering precisely where the dis-
tressed vessel lies, when the crew are not able to make their exact situ-
ation known by luminous signals.
2. Secondly, to discover a method of laying the mortar for the ob-
ject with as much accuracy as in the light.
3. Thirdly, to render the flight of the rope perfectly distinguishable
to those who project it, and to the crew on board the vessel, so that
they cannot fail of seeing on what part of the rigging it lodges, and
consequently may have no difficulty in securing it.

To attain the first object, a fire ball is used, such as is often thrown
up in the attack and defence of fortified places to discover the situation
of an enemy by night-and such as was in fact used by the French at
the siege of Badajoz to discover the exact situation of our storming
parties in front of the breaches. It consists of a hollow ball of paste-
board, having a hole at top containing a fuse, and filled with about fif-
ty luminous balls of star composition, and a sufficient quantity of gun-
powder to burst the ball and inflame the stars. The fuse is graduated
so as to set fire to the bursting powder at the height of 300 yards. On
the stars being released, they continue their splendour while falling for
near one minute, and strongly illumine every surrounding object: am-
ple time is therefore allowed to discover the situation of the distressed
vessel.
·

-·

672
INVENTIONS FOR THE
During the period of the light, a board, with two upright sticks at
each end (painted white to render them more discernible in the dark),
is pointed towards the vessel, so that the two white sticks shall meet in
a direct line with it, the wreck being a fixed object. This will obvious-
ly afford an undeviating rule by which to lay the mortar, making an
allowance, as by daylight, for wind, &c. Thus the second object is
attained.
For the third, a shell (instead of a shot) is affixed to the rope, hav-
ing four holes in it to receive fuzes, and the body of the shell is filled
with the fiercest and most glaring composition, which when inflamed,
displays so splendid an illumination of the rope, that its flight cannot
be mistaken.
Da
无
​Ya
Ak
O
Report of experiments made thereon, before a cominittee of colonels and
field-officers of the royal artillery at Woolwich, on the 3d of May
1809, by order of the honourable Board of Ordnance.
Jok
Royal Arsenal, Woolwich, May 3, 1809.
"SIR,-I request you will inform the master general and the right
honourable board, that in obedience to their orders, communicated in
your letter of the 28th ultimo, the committee of colonels and field offi-
cers assembled on the following day, to witness the further experi-
ments proposed by Captain Manby, with a view of obtaining a commu-
nication from the land with stranded vessels.
"On this occasion Captain Manby exhibited his contrivance for as-
certaining the position of a ship stranded during the night-time, by pro-
jecting light-balls into the air, from a mortar at a high elevation, by
which means obtaining a momentary view of the object, its situation is
instantly and determinately marked, by placing two upright sticks,
fixed on a short plank, which can be moved with the greatest facility
in the exact direction, and by which the mortar can be laid with
cision, in the usual manner.
pre-
66
Captain Manby then exhibited a contrivance to insure the firing of
PRESERVATION OF LÍFE.
678
the mortar in wet or stormy weather, by means of a short pistol, the
lock of which is so covered by a tin box as to exclude the effects of the
wind or rain on the priming.

"The next experiment was to prove the practicability of throwing a
life rope attached to a shot from a 12-pounder carronade, and the ap-
plication of a shell with several fuzes, instead of a shot for the same
purpose, at night, so that the crew on board the stranded vessel, by
the brilliant light of the fuzes, could not fail to see the projection of
the rope to their assistance.
"I am happy to report to his lordship and honourable board, that
Captain Manby's experiments were perfectly satisfactory to, the commit-
tee, and they have no doubt of their successful application to the noble
purpose he has in view.
“ Tỏ R. CREW, Esq.
Secretary to the Ordnance,
" I have the honour to be, &c.
VAUGHAN LLOYD,
Col. Com. Lieut. Gen."
Such are the most prominent and interesting facts relating to Captain
Manby's discoveries for the preservation of shipwrecked seamen. There
are many minor points, respecting the mode of bringing the sick on
shore, of carrying a boat over a surf, to reach a vessel stranded with-
out a bar, &c. &c. to which we have not time to refer, but which are
described and illustrated by wood cuts in his admirable work, intitled,
"An Essay on the Preservation of Shipwrecked Persons." Arnong these
we are particularly struck with his simple method of converting any
common boat into a life-boat, at an expence of about 31. by merely lash-
ing within the gunwhale six or seven empty and air-tight water casks,
or oil casks if they are within reach a plan that has been found so effi-
cacious in giving buoyancy, that sailors who have tried it have no hesi-
tation in putting to sea in such a boat with a hole bored through her
bottom.

-
The whole expence of the apparatus invented by Captain Manby, we
understand, amounts to about 10%.; and we have no hesitation in de-
·livering our opinion, that sets should be deposited, at the public ex-
pence, at intervals of about ten or a dozen miles, along all the danger-
ous coasts of the United Kingdom; that is, along all those coasts where,
from the flatness of the shore, vessels driven upon it will strike within
two hundred yards of the land. Many parts of England, Scotland, and
Ireland come under this description. And if, in addition to this pre-
caution, the activity of the fishermen and villagers on the coasts was
stimulated by a bounty, in the way of head-money, for the life of each
mariner saved out of a wreck by this process, at least in every case of
difficulty and hazard, when the people concerned risk their own lives
in the attempt, the provision would be a wise one, and worthy of the
justice and humanity of a British board of admiralty.
C
It is highly creditable to Captain Manby, that he had no sooner com-
pleted his invention and carried it into operation on the coast of Nor-
folk, than he addressed a letter to the magistrates of that county, exhort-
ing them by very forcible reasons to institute a "Society for the relief
of shipwrecked mariners;" and specifically for providing them with such
clothing and necessaries as may in different cases be required, and for
assisting them to their homes. It is no less creditable to the magistra
cy of that distinguished county, that they immediately answered the

4 R
674
INVENTIONS FOR THE
call, and instituted a society for the purposes proposed. Captain Man-
by calls upon the other maritime counties to follow the example, in the
following words, which do equal credit to his feelings and to his judg
ment:
"I cannot, however, feel satisfied, and leave the work of humanity
half perfected. That the shipwrecked mariner, if preserved, is brought
on shore, worn out with bodily fatigue, and mental horror and agita-
tion, with limbs benumbed and swollen with wet and cold; destitute,
most probably, of either linen or clothes, except those on his back, wet,
drenched, and dripping; that he preserves neither money nor means to
relieve himself, nor to procure those necessaries and comforts, which
cold, hunger, and nakedness claim; that he, perhaps, is many miles
distant from his family and friends, or from a port whence he might
get a passage to them; these, and such like circumstances of distress,
which have been realised in many instances of shipwreck, wherein I
have been concerned, induce me to make one effort more in behalf of
such sufferers, by recommending to the consideration of every county
where calamities of this kind are frequently occurring, whether an alle-
viation of the hardships to which this valuable order of men are exposed
might not be purchased at an easy rate; whether the injury of their
health might not be easily repaired, or provided against, comfort ad-
ministered, and themselves be helped on their way to their place of
abode."


Sir Humphrey Davy's Discoveries.
We shall now proceed to the important and unparalleled discoveries
of Sir Humphrey Davy.
The triumph of persevering science over the laws and operations of
nature has never been more proudly displayed than in the system of
preservation, so happily deduced from a deep consideration of the sub-
ject, and a perfect acquaintance with the principles of chemistry. The
value of the discovery to mankind surpasses calculation. For the last
two hundred years, Northumberland has been the scene of sudden death,
lamentation, and dismay. Scarcely a year elapsed without some fatal
explosion of the fire-damp, which destroyed a considerable number of
men, and diffused among their families poverty and distress. Various
efforts had been made to remedy the evil, but in vain, and the occur-
rence of the following horrible accidents at length induced the propri-
etors of coal-mines to request the advice of Sir Humphrey Davy.
Felling is a manor about a mile and a half east of Gateshead. It
contains several strata of coal, the uppermost of which were extensively
wrought in the beginning of the last century. The stratum called the
High-main was won in 1779, and continued to be wrought till the
19th January 1811, when it was entirely excavated.
The present
colliery is in the seam called the Low-main. It commenced in Octo-
ber 1810, and was at full work in May 1812. This mine was con-
sidered by the workmen as a model of perfection in the purity of its air,
and orderly arrangements-its inclined plane was saving the daily ex-
pence of at least 13 horses-the concern wore the features of the great-
est possible prosperity, and no accident, except a trifling explosion of
fire-damp, slightly burning two or three workmen, had occurred. Two
shifts or sets of men were constantly employed, except on Sundays.
Twenty-five acres of coal had been excavated.
The first shift entered

•
PRESERVATION OF LIFE.
675
£
}
*
the mine at four o'clock A. M. and were relieved at their working posts
by the next at 11 o'clock in the morning. The establishment it em-
ployed under-ground consisted of about 128 persons, who, in the fort-
night from the 11th to the 25th of May 1812, wrought 624 scores of
coal, equal to 1300 Newcastle chaldrons, or 2455 London chaldrons.
About half past eleven o'clock on the morning of the 25th of May 1812,
the neighbouring villages were alarmed by a tremendous explosion in
this colliery. The subterraneous fire broke forth with two heavy dis-
charges from the John, which were, almost instantaneously, followed
by one from the William. A slight trembling, as from an earthquake,
was felt for about half a mile around the workings; and the noise of
the explosion, though dull, was heard to three or four miles distance,
and much resembled an unsteady fire of infantry.


Immense quantities of dust and small coal accompanied these blasts,
and rose high into the air, in the form of an inverted cone. The heavi-
est part of the ejected matter, such as corves, pieces of wood, and
small coal, fell near the pits; but the dust, borne away by a strong
west wind, fell in a continued shower from the pit to the distance of a
mile and a half. As soon as the explosion was heard, the wives and
children of the workmen ran to the working-pit. Wildness and terror
were pictured in every countenance. The crowd from all sides soon
collected to the number of several hundreds, some crying out for a hus-
band, others for a parent or a son, and all deeply affected with a mix-
ture of horror, anxiety, and grief. The machine being rendered useless
by the eruption, the rope of the gin was sent down the pit with all
expedition. In the absence of horses, a number of men, whom the
wish to be instrumental in rescuing their neighbours from their perilous
situation, seemed to supply with strength proportionate to the urgency
of the occasion, put their shoulders to the starts or shafts of the gin,
and wrought it with astonishing expedition. By twelve o'clock, 32
persons, all that survived this dreadful calamity, were brought to day-
light. The dead bodies of two boys, who were miserably scorched and
shattered, were also brought up at this time: three boys, out of the 32
who escaped alive, died within a few hours after the accident. Only
29 persons were, therefore, left to relate what they observed of the ap-
pearances and effects of this subterraneous thundering: 121 were in the
mine when it happened, and 87 remained in the workings. Eight per-
sons came up at different intervals, a short time before the explosion.
They who had their friends restored, hastened with them from the dis-
mal scene, and seemed for a while to suffer as much from the excess of
joy as they had lately done from grief; and they who were yet held in
doubt concerning the fate of their relations and friends, filled the air
with shrieks and howlings; went about wringing their hands; and
threw their bodies into the most frantic and extravagant gestures. The
persons who now remained in the mine, had all been employed in the
workings to which the plane-board was the general avenue, and as none
had escaped by that way, the apprehension for their safety began to
strengthen every moment. At a quarter after twelve o'clock, Messrs.
Straker, Anderson, Haswell, Rogers, Wilson, Pearson, Anderson, Men-
ham, and Greener, therefore descended the John, in expectation of
meeting with some of them alive. As the fire-damp would have in-
stantly ignited at candles, they lighted their way by steel-mills, small
machines which give light by turning a plain thin cylinder of steel
676
´INVENTIONS FOR THE
against a piece of flint. Knowing that a great number of the workmen
would be at the crane when the explosion happened, they attempted to
reach it by the plane-board; but their progress was intercepted at the
second pillar by the prevalence of choak-damp: the noxious fluid filled
the board between the roof and the thill; and the sparks from the steel
fell into it like dark drops of blood. Being, therefore, deprived of light,
and nearly poisoned for want of atmospheric air, they retraced their
steps to the shaft, and with similar success attempted to pass up the
narrow boards: in these they were stopped at the sixth pillar by a thick
smoke, which stood like a wall the whole height of the board. Here
their flint-mills were not only rendered useless, and respiration became
extremely difficult, but the probability of their ever reaching the places
where they expected to meet with those they were in search of, or of
finding any of them alive, was entirely done away. To the hopelessness
of success in their enterprize should also be added, their certainty of
the mine being on fire, and the probability of a second explosion at
every moment occurring and burying them in its ruins.
At two o'clock Mr. Straker and Mr. Anderson had just ascended the
John, and were gone to examine the appearance of the air issuing from
the William. Menham, Greener, and Rogers, had also ascended. Two
of the party were at this moment in the shaft, and the other two re-
mained below, when a second explosion, much less severe than the
first, excited more frightful expressions of grief and terror amongst the
relatives of the persons still in the mine. Rogers and Wilson, the per-
sons in the shaft, experienced little inconvenience by the eruption: they
felt an unusual heat, but it had no effect in lifting up their bodies, or
otherwise destroying the uniformity of the motion of their ascent. Has-
well and H. Anderson, hearing its distant growlings, laid themselves
down at full length on their faces, and in this posture, by keeping firm.
hold of a strong wooden prop, placed near the shaft, to support the roof
of the mine, experienced no other inconvenience from the blast, than its
lifting up their legs and poising their bodies in various directions, in the
manner that the waves heave and toss a buoy at sea. As soon as the at-
mospheric current returned down the shaft, they were drawn to bank.
This expedient of lying down and suffering the fury of the blast to roll
over them, is mentioned in the Life of Lord Keeper North, under the year
1676. It is most efficacious where the mine is wet, for atmospheric air
always accompanies running water; but the warning of a blast being
usually sudden, it requires a degree of experience and coolness, not
commonly united, to exercise any precaution against it. The miner
knowing its irresistible power, instantly sees the inefficacy of every at-
tempt to escape, and, like a physician attacked by some incurable com-
plaint, and, conscious that his art is unequal to its cure, makes no strug-
gle to save his life. As each of the party came up, he was surrounded
by a group of anxious inquirers. All their reports were equally hope-
less; and the second explosion so strongly corroborated their account of
the impure state of the mine, that their assertions for the present seemed
to be credited. But this impression was only momentary. On recol-
lection, they remembered that persons had survived similar accidents,
and when the mine was opened, been found alive. Three had been
shut up during 40 days in a pit near Byker, and all that period had
subsisted on candles and horse beans. The proposition to exclude the
atmospheric air from the mine, in order to extinguish the fire, was there-


་
{


PRESERVATION OF LIFE.
677
•
före received with the cries of « Murder,” and with a determination of
opposing the proceeding. Many of the widows continued about the
mouth of the John pit during the whole of Monday night, with the
hope of hearing the voice of a husband or a son calling for assistance. On
Tuesday the 26th of May, the natural propensity of the human mind
to be gratified with spectacles of horror was strongly exemplified. An
immense crowd of colliers from various parts, but especially from the
banks of the river Wear, assembled round the pits, and were profuse
in reproaches on the persons concerned in the mine, for want of exer-
tion to recover the men. Every one had some example to relate of suc-
cessful attempts in cases of this kind,-all were large in their profes-
sions of readiness to give assistance; but none were found to enter the
inflammable jaws of the mine. Their reasonings and assertions seemed
indeed to be a mixture of those prejudices and conceits which cleave
to workmen whom experience has afforded a partial insight into the na-
ture and peculiarities of their profession, and not to be grounded on
any memory of facts, or to result from a knowledge of the connection
between causes and effects; and on this account, as soon as the leaders
of the outcry could be brought to listen with patience to a relation of
the appearances that attended this accident, and to hear the reasons as-
signed for the conclusion that the mine was on fire, and that the per-
sons remaining in it were dead, they seemed to allow the impractica
bility of reaching the bodies of the sufferers till the fire was extinguish-
ed, and consequently the necessity of smothering it out by excluding
atmospheric air from the mine. On Wednesday the 27th of May, at the
clamorous solicitation of the people, Mr. Straker and the overman again
descended the John pit, in order to ascertain the state of the air in the
workings. Immediately under the shaft they found a mangled horse,
in which they supposed they perceived some signs of life; but they had
only advanced about six or eight yards, before the sparks of the flint
were extinguished in the choak-damp, and Haswell, who played the
mill, began to show the effects of the carbonic poison, by faultering in
his steps. Mr. Straker therefore laid hold of him, and supported him
to the shaft. As the baneful vapours had now taken possession of the
whole of the mine, and they found it difficult to breathe even in the
course of the full current of the atmospheric air, they immediately as-
cended. But the afflicted creatures, still clinging to hope, disbelieved
their report. Wishful, therefore, to give as ample satisfaction as possi-
ble to the unhappy women, Mr. Anderson and James Turnbull (a
hewer of the colliery, who had escaped the blast) again went down.
At 30 fathoms from the bottom they found the air exceedingly warm:
to exist without apoplectic symptoms for more than a few yards round
the bottom of the shaft, was found impossible, and even there the air
was so contaminated as to be nearly irrespirable. When they ascend-
ed, their clothes emitted a smell somewhat resembling the waters of Gils-
land and Harrowgate, but more particularly allied to that of the tur-
pentine distilled from coal tar. The report of these last adventurers
partly succeeded in convincing the people that there was no possibility
of any of their friends being found alive. Some, indeed, went away
silent, but not satisfied; others with pitiable importunity besought that
measures to recover their friends might even yet be adopted and per-
severed in; and many, as if grief and rage had some necessary connec-
tion, went about loading the conducto is of the mine with execrations,
•


678
INVENTIONS FOR THE
and threatening revenge. Some were even heard to say they could
have borne their loss with fortitude had none of the workmen survived
the calamity; they could have been consoled had all their neighbours
been rendered as miserable and destitute as themselves! From such a
multitude of distracted women, unanimity of sentiment could not be ex-
pected-no scheme of proceedings could be invented fortunate enough
to meet with the approbation of them all. In the evening of this day it
was, therefore, resolved to exclude the atmospheric air from entering the
workings, in order to extinguish the fire which the explosion had kin-
dled in the mine, and of which the smoke ascending the William pit
was a sure indication. This shaft was accordingly filled with clay about
seven feet above the ingate or entrance from the shaft into the drift;
and the John Pit mouth was covered over with loose planks.
+
Many idle tales were circulated through the country concerning seve-
ral of the men finding their way to the shafts, and being recovered.
Their number was circumstantially told-how they subsisted on candles,
oats, and beans-how they heard the persons who visited the mine on
the day of the accident, and the Wednesday following, but were too
feeble to speak sufficiently loud to make themselves heard. Some con-
jurer too, it was said, had set his spells and divinations to work, and
He had discovered one fa-
penetrated the whole secrets of the mine
mishing group receiving drops of water from the roof of the mine-
another eating their shoes and clothes, and other such pictures of misery.
These inventions were carefully related to the widows, and answered
the purpose of every day harrowing up their sorrows afresh. Indeed,
it seemed the chief employment of some, to make a kind of insane sport
of their own and their neighbour's calamity.
The morning of Wednesday the 8th of July, being appointed for
entering the workings, the distress of the neighbourhood was again re-
newed at an early hour. A great concourse of people collected-some
out of curiosity, to witness the commencement of an undertaking full
of sadness and danger-some to stir up the revenge and aggravate the
sorrows of the relatives of the sufferers, by calumnies and reproaches,
published for the sole purpose of mischief; but the greater part came
with broken hearts and streaming eyes, in expectation of seeing á fa-
ther, a husband, or son, "brought up out of the horrible pit!"
a
As the weather was warm, and it was desirable that as much air
might pass down the shaft as possible, constables were placed at pro-
per distances, to keep off the crowd. Two surgeons were also in at-
tendance in case of accidents.




At six o'clock in the morning, Mr. Straker, Mr. Anderson, the over-
man of the colliery, and six other persons, descended the William pit,
and began to traverse the north drift towards the plane board. As a
current of water had been constantly diverted down this shaft for the
space of ten hours, the air was found to be perfectly cool and whole-
some. Light was procured from steel-mills. As the explosion had oc-
casioned several falls of large masses of stone from the roof, their pro-
gress was considerably delayed by removing them. After the plane-
board was reached, a stopping was put across it on the right hand, and
one across the wall opposite the drift. The air, therefore, passed to
the left, and number six was found.

The shifts of men employed in this doleful and unwholesome work
were generally about eight in number. They were four hours in and
PRESERVATION OF LIFE.
679
eight hours out of the mine: each individual, therefore, wrought two
shifts every 24 hours.
When the body of number six was to be lifted into a shell or coffin,
the men for a while stood over it in speechless horror: they imagined
it was in so putrid a state, that it would fall asunder by lifting. At
length they began to encourage each other" in the name of God" to
begin; and after several hesitations and resolutions, and covering their
hands with oakum to avoid any unpleasant sensation from touching the
body, they laid it in a coffin, which was conveyed to the shaft in a bier
made for the purpose, and drawn to bank' in a net made of strong
cords.
C
-
When the first shift of men came up, at ten o'clock, a message was
sent for a number of coffins to be in readiness at the pit. These being
at the joiner's shop, piled up in a heap to the number of 92, (a most
gloomy sight) had to pass by the village of Low Felling. As soon as
a cart-load of them was seen, the howlings of the women, who had
hitherto continued in their houses, but now began to assemble about
their doors, came on the breeze in slow fitful gusts, which presaged a
scene of much distress and confusion being soon exhibited near the pit;
but happily, by representing to them the shocking appearance of the
body that had been found, and the ill effects upon their own bodies and
minds, likely to ensue from suffering themselves to be hurried away by
such violent convulsions of grief, they either returned to their houses,
or continued in silence in the neighbourhood of the pit.
•
From the 8th of July to the 19th of September, the heart-rending
scene of mothers and widows examining the putrid bodies of their sons
and husbands, for marks by which to indentify them, was almost daily
renewed; but very few of them were known by any personal mark-
they were too much mangled and scorched to retain any of their features.
Their clothes, tobacco-boxes, shoes, and the like, were, therefore, the
only indexes by which they could be recognised.
At the crane twenty-one bodies lay in ghastly confusion: some like
mummies, scorched as dry as if they had been baked. One wanted its
head, another an arm. The scene was truly_frightful. The power of
the fire was visible upon them all; but its effects were extremely vari-
ous: while some were almost torn to pieces, there were others who ap-
peared as if they had sunk down overpowered with sleep.
The ventilation concluded on Saturday the 19th of September, when
the 91st body was dug from under a heap of stones. At six o'clock in
the morning the pit was visited by candle light, which had not been
used in it for the space of 117 days; and at eleven o'clock in the morn-
ing the tube-furnace was lighted. From this time the colliery has been
regularly at work; but the 92d body has never yet been found.
All these persons (except four, who were buried in single graves)
were interred in Heworth Chapel-yard, in a trench, side by side, two
coffin deep, with a partition of brick and lime between every four
coffins.



A dreadful and destructive explosion of carbureted hydrogen gas
took place in the Success coal-pit, near Newbottle, belonging to Nesham
and Co. in the county of Durham, at half past four o'clock, on June the
2d, 1815. By this unfortunate accident, which had repeatedly occurred
at the same pit, 57 persons were killed upon the spot, and several
wounded.
680
INVENTIONS FOR THE
·
The immediate cause of the catastrophe was not clearly ascertained,
though it was generally believed that the pitmen had inadvertently
worked into the old workings, or some place where there had been a
large collection of inflammable air.
As all the unfortunate labourers were instantly killed, and as the
rapid return of atmospheric air after the explosion destroyed the head-
ings and air courses, the whole of the colliery became so completely al-
tered, that no correct idea of the cause of the accident could be formed
from appearances. It appeared also, that from some unaccountable cir-
cumstance, that the atmospheric air could not be sent down in sufficient
quantity, and in a proper direction after the explosion, to those persons
who might have lived till their scanty supply of atmospheric air became
exhausted.
When the explosion took place, 72 men and boys were at work at
the depth of 108 fathoms; and though the greatest endeavours were
made to relieve those distressed persons, only 15 survived, some of
whom were in a very precarious state. The explosion was so great as to
carry every thing before it, till it was impeded in its progress by a
large waggon, which, with the driver and horse, were dashed to pieces.
Several men in the colliery, after they had escaped this tornado of
fire, endeavoured to reach the shaft; but death arrested them on their
road; for breathing an atmosphere surcharged with carbonic acid gas,
their destruction now became inevitable.

2
Some of the men survived till they were brought up the shaft into
the atmosphere, when they died, perhaps unable to bear the stimulus
of the atmospheric air after the state of exhaustion in which they had
previously lived for some time.
After a considerable explosion takes place in a coal-mine, the pitmen
are often drenched with water, which is probably occasioned by the
rapid combustion of hydrogen gas in such a confined situation, as may
be readily understood by persons conversant with chemistry. At the
same time all the partitions and divisions being broken down, whilst
the air-courses are converted into a complete wreck, and the whole at-
mosphere of the mine so much agitated, it is to be expected that the
carbonic acid gas will be distributed through the bottom of the mine,
and suffocation become the fate of those persons who escape the im-
mediate effects of the explosion. Out of 19 horses only six died.
The occurrence of this, and similar accidents, was rendered still
more afflicting by misfortunes of a different nature, which, though not
connected with the fire damp, are deserving of record. At another
pit belonging to the very same proprietors, Nesham and Co. and on the
same scite, a melancholy accident occurred within less than a month
after the explosion. The proprietors had provided a powerful locọ-
motive steam engine for the purpose of drawing 10 or 12 coal waggons
to the staith at one time; and Monday, July 2d, 1814, being the day it
was to be put in motion, a great number of persons belonging to the
colliery had collected to see it. Unfortunately just as it was going off,
the boiler of the machine burst. The engine man was dashed to pieces,
and his mangled remains blown 114 yards; the top of the boiler (nine
feet square, in weight 19 cwt.) was blown 100 yards; and the two
cylinders 90 yards. At the fatal blast which had recently taken place,
the first who arrived at the bank, holding by a rope, was a little boy
about seven years of age. This poor little fellow was thrown upon this
•
PRESERVATION OF LIFE.
681
I
The accident was oc-
occasion to a considerable distance and killed.
casioned by the folly of the engine man, who said that as there were
scveral owners and viewers there, he would make her (the engine) go
off in grand style, and he had got upon the boiler to loose the screw of
the safety valve, which being over-heated, unfortunately exploded.
Fifty-seven were killed and wounded, and of the latter but few re-
covered.
Nor were Messrs. Nesham and Co. the only sufferers. Two months
before the occurrence of the last accident, another equally dreadful had
occurred at Heaton Main colliery, near Newcastle. This colliery is
situated in the bed of coal called the high main. It is a considerable
depth, about 110 fathoms, and the shaft is situated at the lower extre-
mity of the mine. The shaft is divided by boarding all the way down,
so that the same opening served for the up and down cast shaft. The
seam towards the rise had been formerly worked as a colliery, under
the name of Heaton Banks, by shafts distinct from the present work
ing, which shafts, when the colliery was given up, were covered over
with boards and earth. In the course of time these old workings had
become filled with water; and the managers of the present colliery be
ing well aware of the danger attending so large an accumulation of
water, the workings were proceeded in with the utmost caution.
•
The mine was very much subject to what the colliers call the creep;
which is a gradual filling up of the horizontal passages. It had been
customary for some time past to bore in various directions upon the
lines the men were working, in order to ascertain whether any body of
water lay concealed in the adjacent cavities. This precaution was about
to be put in practice at nine o'clock on Wednesday the 3d of May;
but before that time had arrived (between three and four o'clock in
the morning), a dreadful rush of water came through the roof in the
north-west part of the colliery, and continued to flow with such rapi-
dity, that only 20 men and boys were enabled to make their escape.
In a very short time, the water closed up the lower mouth of the shaft;
and that night it rose to the height of 24 fathoms. Some faint hopes
being entertained that the men below would retire to the higher parts
of the workings, which were said to be above the level of the water in
the shaft, every exertion was used to open a communication with them
by the old workings. Considerable difficulties, however, presented them-
selves: The rubbish which covered and choaked up the two old shafts,
when deprived of the support of the water, fell in dragging along with
it some trees which had been planted round the spot. An old shaft
in the front of the Heaton hole, did not however present a like impe-
diment, and consequently every exertion was used to open a communi-
cation by that way. They had uncovered the pit, and reached the
scaffolding (on Saturday the 6th of May), which was five fathoms from
the surface, and were partly successful. After the accident three large
engines (one of 130 horse power) were constantly employed in drawing
the water from the pit, at the rate of 1200 galloons per minute, yet two
days after the accident, it was found to have attained the height of 31
fathoms, but it afterwards decreased, and expectations were entertain-
ed of the colliery being at some future period set to work-we hope
under better regulations. Mr. Miller, the under-viewer (who left a wife
and eight children), 32 workmen, 42 boys, and 37 horses perished; and
25 widows, with about 80 children, were left to bemoan the sudden
2
+
*
-
·
!

4 S
682
INVENTIONS FOR THE
death of their husbands and fathers. It thus appears, that in the
short space of two months, 189 persons were numbered with the dead
at the Heaton and Success collieries. The indignation of many indivi-
duals was extreme at the negligence displayed in permitting the steam-
engine to be over-fired, and suffering the water to gain so decided an
ascendancy. These were dangers which caution might have averted,
but the explosion occasioned by inflammable air, no human sagacity at
that period could have prevented. The proprietors of the mines had
the good sense to perceive, that accidents from water and the steam-
engine depend in some measure on the discretion of their servants, but
that the prevention of explosion by the fire damp must be determined
by some regular mode of lighting, dependant on a general principle.
In the agitation of the moment, but not without reflection, they applied
to Sir Humphrey Davy, who immediately complied with their solicita-
tions, and proceeded to the spot. The result of his enquiries will be
best communicated in his own simple, and energetic language.

After ascertaining, by a variety of experiments, the combustibility and
explosive nature of the fire-damp in mines, and finding that a mixture
of this gas with air would not explode in metallic canals or troughs,
when their diameter was less than one-seventh of an inch, and that ex-
plosions would not pass through such canals: also that explosions would
not pass through very fine wire sieves or wire gauze, Sir Humphrey
Davy comes to the following inference:
"It is evident, that to prevent explosions in coal mines, it is only ne-
cessary to use air-tight lanterns, supplied with air from tubes or canals
of small diameter, or from apertures covered with wire gauze placed
below the flame, through which explosions cannot be communicated,
and having a chimney at the upper part on a similar system, for carry-
ing off the foul air. Common lanterns may easily be adapted to the
purpose by being made air-tight in the door and sides, by being furnish-
ed with the chimney, and with the system of safety apertures below
and above.
"The principle being known, it was easy to adopt and multiply prac-
tical applications of it. The first safe lantern that I had constructed
was made of tin-plate, and the light emitted through four glass plates
in the sides. The air was admitted round the bottom of the flame,
from a number of metallic tubes, of one-eighth of an inch in diameter,
and one inch and a half long. The chimney was composed of two open
cones, having a common base perforated by two small apertures, and fast-
ened to the top of the lantern, which was made tight in a pneumatic rim
containing a little oil. The upper and lower apertures in the chimney
were about one-third of an inch, the lamp, which was fed with oil, gave a
steady flame about an inch high, and half an inch in diameter. When
the lantern was slowly moved, the lamp continued to burn, but more
feebly; and when it was rapidly moved it went out.
went out. To obviate this cir-
cumstance, I surrounded the bottom of the lantern with a perforated rim,
and this arrangement perfectly answered the end proposed.
.
"I had another chimney fitted to this lantern, furnished with a number
of safety tin-plate tubes of one-sixth of an inch in diameter, and two inches
long; but they diminished considerably the size of the flame, and render-
ed it more liable to go out by motion; and many experiments appear to
shew that if the diameter of the upper orifice of the chimney be not very
Y
PRESERVATION OF LIFE.
683
1
large, it is scarcely possible, that any explosion produced by the flame can
reach it.
r
"I gradually threw an explosive mixture of fire-damp and air into the
safe-lantern from a bladder furnished with a tube which opened by a
large aperture above the flame. The flame became enlarged, and by a
rapid jet of gas, I produced an explosion in the body of the lantern. There
was not even a current of air through the safety tubes at the moment, the
flame did not appear to reach above the lower aperture of the chimney,
and the explosion merely threw out from it a gust of foul air.
"It is evident therefore, that when in the safe-lantern, the air gradually
becomes contaminated with fire-damp, this fire-damp will be consumed
in the body of the lantern, and that the air passing through the chimney
cannot contain any inflammable mixture.

"As the wick may be moved without communication between the air
in safe-lanterns or lamps and the atmosphere, there is no danger in
trimming or feeding them; but they should be lighted in a part of the
mine where there is no fire-damp, and by a person charged with the
care of the lights. By these inventions, used with such simple precau-
tions, there is reason to believe that a number of lives will be saved,
and much misery prevented. Where candles are employed in the open
air, in the mines, life is extinguished by the explosion; with the safe-
lantern, or safe-lamp, the light is only put out, and no other inconve-
nience will occur."
Ingenious as many of these discoveries were regarded at the period when
they were first announced, they have been surpassed, and almost supersed-
ed, by a subsequent discovery. Sir Humphrey conceived it possible the
impurity and density of the fire-damp might prevent it from entering
apertures extremely small, though sufficiently large to admit the diffu-
sion of light. His conjecture was justified by experiments, and the
wire-gauze lamps were introduced into the coal mines under his direc-
tion. The wire-gauze covers the top of a common lamp, communicates
a steady light, and is not susceptible of explosion. The texture of the
wire-gauze is sometimes so extremely fine, that a single inch is perfora-
ted by 288 apertures. So simple and efficacious a mode of preserving
human life demands the admiration and the gratitude of inankind
Preservation of Persons apparently Drowned.
The opinions of physicians on the subject of drowning have been
various and contradictory. Dr. Cullen says, that very often the water
does not enter the lungs, nor even the stomach in any material quantity,
and that, in most cases, no injury is done to the organization of the
vital parts. Hence he argues, that the death which seems to ensue is
owing to the stoppage of respiration, and the consequent ceasing of the
circulation of the blood; by which the body loses its heat and vital
principle.
Mr. Hunter advances the following theory: The loss of motion in
drowning seems to arise from the loss of respiration, and the immediate
effect this has on the other vital motions of the animal; at least this pri-
vation of breathing appears to be the first cause of the heart's motion
ceasing. It is most probable, therefore (observes Mr. Hunter), that the
restoration of breathing is all that is necessary to restore the heart's mo-
tion, for if a sufficiency of life still remain to produce that effect, we may
suppose every part equally ready to move at that very instant when the
684
INVENTIONS FOR THE
action of the heart takes place, their actions depending so much upon
it. This is rendered probable by the circumstance that children in the
birth, when too much time has been spent after the loss of that life
which is peculiar to the fœtus, lose altogether the disposition for the
new life: in such cases there is a total suspension of the functions of
vitality; the child remains to all appearance dead, and would die if air
were not thrown into its lungs, and the first principle of action by that
means restored. To put this in a clearer light, Mr. Hunter gives the
result of some cruel and by no means justifiable experiments. A pair
of double bellows were provided, which were so constructed, that by
one action air was thrown into the lungs, and by the other, air was
sucked out, which had been thrown in by the former, without mixing
together. The mazzle of these bellows was fixed into the trachea of a
dog, and by working them he was kept perfectly alive. While this
artificial breathing was going on, the stermune was taken off, so that
the heart and lungs were exposed to view. The heart then continued
to act as before, only the frequency of its acting was greatly increased.
Mr. Hunter then stopped the motion of the bellows, and observed that
the contraction of the heart became gradually weaker and less frequent,
till it left off moving altogether; but by renewing the operation, the
motion of the heart also revived, and soon became as strong and fre-
quent as before. This process was repeated on the same dog ten times,
sometimes stopping for 9 or 10 minutes. Mr. Hunter observed that
every time he left off working the bellows, the heart became extremely
turgid with blood, and the blood in the left side became as dark as that
in the right, which was not the case when the bellows were working.
These situations of the animal seemed to be exactly similar to drowning.
Dr. Goodwyn has since endeavoured to ascertain the effects of sub-
mersion on living animals in a still more accurate manner, and deduces
from his experiments the following conclusions: 1. A small quantity
of fluid usually passes into the lungs in drowning. 2. This water enters
the lungs during the efforts to inspire, and mixing with the pulmonary
muscles, occasions the frothy appearance so observable. 3. The whole
of this fluid in the lungs is not sufficient to produce the changes that
take place in drowning. Hence the doctor concludes, that the water
produces all the changes that take place in drowning, indirectly, by ex-
cluding the atmospheric air as its purest part. For this reason he re-
commends inflating the lungs with that kind of air in preference to any
other.


From those opposing views of the question, physicians have seldom
agreed respecting the methods of recovery; and all reference to theory
is fortunately rendered unnecessary by the plain and practical instruc-
tions of the Humane Society, which are founded on the simplest prin-
ciples, and are sanctioned by experience.
The founder of the Humane Society was the amiable and accom-
plished Dr. Hawes. It is no less a debt due to the Society than a duty
which we owe to him, to state, in this place, the very important ser-
vices he rendered his country, and the great obligations he conferred on
the human race, by his benevolent and arduous exertions in establish-
ing this institution; by his unwearied assiduity in conducting it,
through much opprobrium and opposition, to its present state of pro-
sperity; and by his unremitting perseverance in extending its humane
and beneficent views to numerous cities and towns of the United King-
*
PRESERVATION OF LIFE.
685
dom, to various parts of Europe, to the East and West Indies, and to
America.
About the middle of the last century, Dr. John Fothergill saw the
dubiousness and fallacy of the received criteria of dissolution; and, in a
paper addressed to the Royal Society, maintained" the possibility of
saving many lives, without risking any thing." Though coming from
such high authority, the subject attracted no attention; and notwith-
standing the great interest with which, a priori, it was natural to sup-
pose it would fill every thinking mind, we hear no more of it, at that
time, among our own countrymen.
Though several instances had occurred, in various parts of the con-
tinent, which pointed out the possibility of recovering, in many cases,
those who were drowned; yet the attention they excited was limited
and transient.

M. Reamur communicated, in 1767, to the Academy of Sciences at
Paris, some instances of resuscitation which had occurred in Switzer-
land.
Holland, being intersected by numerous canals and inland seas, its
inhabitants were, consequently, much exposed to accidents by water;
and many persons were drowned from the want of proper assistance.
Hence, in the year 1767, a society was formed at Amsterdam, which
offered premiums to those who saved the life of a citizen in danger of
perishing by water: it proposed to publish the methods of treatment,
and to give an account of the cases of recovery. Instigated by this ex-
ample, the magistrates of health at Milan and Venice, issued orders,
in 1768, for the treatment of drowned persons. The city of Hamburgh,
appointed a similar ordinance to be read in all the churches, extending
their succour, not merely to the drowned, but to the strangled, to those
suffocated by noxious vapours, and to the frozen. The first part of the
Dutch memoirs was translated into the Russian language, by com-
mand of the Empress. In 1769 an edict was published in Germany,
extending its directions and encouragements to every case of apparent
death, which afforded a possibility of relief. In 1771, the magistrates
of the city of Paris founded an institution in favour of the drowned, &c.
And the repeated instances of success in each country abundantly con-
firmed the truth of the facts related in the Amsterdam memoirs. These
memoirs were, in 1773, translated into English by Dr. Cogan, in order
to convince the British public of the practicability, in many instances,
of recovering persons who were apparently dead, from drowning. No
sooner were they translated than they engaged the humane and bene-
volent mind of Dr. Hawes. His very soul was absorbed with the ani-
mating hope of saving the lives of his fellow-creatures: but, in making
the attempt, he had to encounter both with ridicule and opposition,
The practicability of resuscitation was denied. He ascertained its prac-
ticability, by advertising to reward persons, who, between Westminster
and London bridges, should, within a certain time after the accident,
rescue drowned persons from the water, and bring them ashore to
places appointed for their reception, where means might be used for
their recovery, and give immediate notice to him. Many lives were
thus saved by himself and other medical men, which would otherwise
have been lost. For twelve months he paid the rewards in these cases;
which amounted to a considerable sum. Dr. Cogan remonstrated with
him on the injury which his private fortune would sustain from a per-
·

;
686
INVENTIONS FOR THE´·
severance in these expences; he therefore consented to share them with
the public. They accordingly agreed to unite their strength, and each
of them to bring fifteen friends to a mecting at the Chapter Coffee-house,
with the express intention of establishing a Humane Society in Lon-
don: this was happily accomplished in the summer of 1774. The ob-
ject of this society was then, like that at Amsterdam, confined to the
recovery of persons who were apparently dead from drowning.
The names of these thirty gentlemen, who, with Dr. Hawes and Dr.
Cogan, laid the foundation of the society, deserve to be recorded. The
following is a list of them.
Mr. Armiger
Rev. Mr. Bouillier
Frederick Bull, Esq. and
Alderman
Dr. William Cooper
Mr. Delver
Mr. Denham
Mr. William Fox
Dr. Goldsmith
Rev. Richard Harrison
Mr. Benjamin Hawes
Dr. Heberden
James Horsfall, Esq. F. R. S.
Mr. John Jacob
Mr. Joseph Jacob
Rev. Dr. Jeffries
Dr. Kooystra
Robert Palmer, Esq.
Mr. Patten
Mr. Michael Pearson
Mr. Phipps
Samuel Prime, Esq.
Mr. John Bewley, Rich
Rev. Mr. Sowden
Thomas Tower, Esq.
Rev. Dr. Towers
William Towgood, Esq.
Mr. William Townsend
Rev. Mr. Van Effen
Mr. Warrand
Dr. Watkinson
Mr. Wright
Those who remember the first establishment of this society recollect
what extreme caution was then requisite in receiving the accounts of
persons said to have been drowned and subsequently recovered. Both
Dr. Hawes and Dr. Cogan saw the absolute necessity of guarding
against the attempts which might be made, and were made, to impose
on them in these respects. The very existence of the society, and the
proof that resuscitation was possible, depended on the facts being duly
authenticated. Dr. Hawes, therefore, was no less indefatigable than
his able colleague, in ascertaining the accuracy of the statements of re-
covery which were sent to them, as well as the justness of the claims
which were made for rewards. And it is scarcely possible for any, but
those who witnessed them, to conceive of the great labour and constant
fatigue which were thus rendered necessary, during the infancy of the
institution. Yet Dr. Hawes, notwithstanding his unremitting attention
to the duties of an extensive practice, persevered in the closest investi-
gation of every case, that he might be enabled satisfactorily to refute
the falsehoods which were industriously circulated against him and the
society, to expose the calumnies with which they were continually as-
sailed, and to convice the impartial public of the certainty of resuscita-
tion in many cases of drowning. To do this, in the face of such diffi-
culties, required a courage and an ardour of no common kind. But the
cause was good: it was the cause of humanity: the heart engaged in
the pursuit was the heart of a man whose greatest pleasure and highest
gratification were to be instrumental in preserving the lives of his fel-
1

1
PREŠERVATION OF LIFE.
687
low-creatures, and whom neither obstacles nor ridicule could inti-
midate.
For the first six years Dr. Cogan prepared the reports of the society
from year to year, nor was Dr. Hawes less attentive in aiding the de-
signs and promoting the views of this institution. Accordingly, we
find him in the autumn of 1776, engaged in the arduous task of giving
a course of lectures on suspended animation: a subject wholly new
and unexplored. The Doctor hoped, by delivering these leetures, to
excite an investigation of the subject in all its branches, and to its full-
est extent and remotest consequences. But particularly was it his wish
to instruct the younger part of the faculty to preserve human life in
every critical circumstance in which the vital powers are liable to be sus-
pended; and to lead them into the consideration of the various derange
ments which interrupt the action of the brain, the heart, or the lungs;
and to point out to them the means to be employed in restoring their
respective functions. The Doctor fully explained to his pupils the
most proper methods to be pursued in recovering persons from syncope,
inebriation, trance, drowning, suffocation by the cord or noxious va-
pours, intense cold, or lightning. He also minutely characterised the
several symptoms of apparent death, which sometimes supervene in
acute diseases, but which might be often surmounted by suitable mea-
sures, speedily adopted and vigorously pursued. The usual signs of
death were severally considered by him, and those which are certain
distinguished from those which are equivocal. The Doctor continued
lectures for many years; and they answered the very important purpose
of turning the attention of his hearers to this benevolent, novel, and in-
teresting subject. Still anxious, however, to attract the attention of
the faculty to it, and to promote the great object of this society, he
offered prize medals for the best dissertations on various subjects more
immediately connected with it; and they produced several valuable ones.
He proposed, in 1786 and some subsequent years, that our Society
should also offer prize medals for the best dissertations on subjects which
had a direct reference to suspended animation: they had their desired
effect; as we find the Doctor afterwards stating, that "these investi-
gations have essentially contributed to elucidate the theory and improve
the practice of resuscitation." Dr. Hawes was actuated by the same
beneficent wish in his several publications: his sole view in them was
to preserve life, by every means in his power; for his mind was uni-
formly and ardently employed in the cause of humanity. It was this
all-powerful principle which induced him, in 1777, at a considerable
expence, to distribute seven thousand copies of his " Address on prema-
ture Death and premature Interment;" and to offer "the reward of
one guinea to any arse, or other attendant, on any child or grown per-
son returning to life, by their humane attention; provided the fact was
ascertained by a gentleman of the faculty, or three creditable persons."
In the year 1778, a more active part in the management of the affairs
of this society devolved on him, by his being chosen its register.
This
was still increased in the year 1780, when Dr. Cogan returned to Hol-
land. On this event Dr. Hawes greatly regretted the loss of so able a
colleague, and lamented that the task of arranging and preparing the
annual reports of the society should have "fallen into hands of such
inferior ability; but hopes that his zeal will compensate for the want
of ability, that the important cause then entrusted to his sole care,
•



608
INVENTIONS FOR THE
+
might not be permitted to languish." Those only, who have witnessed
the labour and fatigue which the various and multiplied concerns of the
society necessarily impose on him who is entrusted with the intire di-
rection of them, can justly appreciate the value and extent of his un-
ceasing exertions for promoting a cause so near his heart, and with
which his own happiness, as well as the happiness of others, was inter-
woven. The Doctor remarks, in the Transactions of the society, that,
soon after this time, the execution of the reports of this institution be-
came more complex and intricate. As the instances of resuscitation
multiplied, he observes, that new and improved modes of treatment
suggested themselves to skilful practitioners; and that other species of
apparent death than those hitherto treated were also brought within
the reach of art. These circumstances arising from the liberal spirit
and unexampled fervour manifested by the medical assistants, in the
prosecution of their life-saving views, concurred to render the task
more operose and complicated. But, he adds, all these difficulties sunk
before the pleasing contemplation of the immense good that would re-
sult from it to mankind.
In the year 1796, Dr. Lettsom, who had succeeded Mr. Horsfall as
treasurer of the society, resigned; and Dr. Hawes was chosen his suc-
cessor. He needed not the stimulus of being elected to fill this honour-
able office of the society to increase his exertions in advancing its in-
terests, or to animate his ardour in promoting its views. He had pre-
viously discharged that laborious part of the treasurer's office, which
consists in examining into the claims for rewards, and paying them.
He had, consequently, to continue these exertions in addition to the
other duties attached to this office. Indeed, a man of less ardour, or
zeal, or activity, must have failed in raising our society to that degree
of eminence which it now possesses. The tide of prejudice, for many
years, ran very strong against a set of men, who presumed, or pretended,
to bring the dead to life. "Our first object and chief difficulty," the
Doctor remarks, "were to remove that destructive incredulity which
prevailed. Our attempts were treated, not only by the vulgar, but by
some of the learned, even by men of eminence as physicians and philo-
sophers, as idle and visionary, and placed upon a level with professing
to raise the dead. The well-authenticated narratives from abroad were
considered as fabulous; or, at least, as greatly exaggerated. Such pre-
judices were first to be removed; and they could only be removed by
incontestible facts of our own. Happily, the animated exertions and
early subscriptions of a few individuals enabled us to produce them be-
fore our little fund was exhausted."



There was another obstacle to the rapid success of the society. In
other institutions the subscribers have the means of affording relief to
some sick or distressed neighbour; they have a something at their own
disposal; some good they can personally confer, when an application
is made to them for that purpose. This has nothing of the kind; it has
only an anniversary sermon to present to you, and an annual report.
But, let it not be forgotten that its patrons and promoters have the god-
like satisfaction of knowing they contribute towards preserving the lives
of many of their fellow-creatures from premature death. They have,
too, a gratification of a most rational and very superior kind, afforded
them at these anniversary festivals: they see men, women, and chil-
dren, walk in solemn procession, and expressing, as they pass, their
PRESERVATION OF LIFE.
680

}
fervent gratitude to God and to their benefactors: these have been rese
cued from an untimely grave; and many, by supporting this Institu
tion, have contributed, humanely contributed, to the preservation of
their lives aud their restoration to their relatives and friends. This is
one of the most interesting and affecting scenes a man of feeling catt
witness: it seldom fails to cause the tear of kindness and sympathy to
steal down the cheek of the spectator.
Under the difficulties which have been mentioned, therefore, it most
certainly required all the energy, the patient forbearance; and the un-
remitting perseverance of Dr. Hawes, to place this, institution in that
state of respectability and permanence m which he has left it, and to
which such a cause is justly entitled. The Doctor asserts (afid who
will not believe him?) that he always felt happy in announcing to the
public, from year to year, that the glorious cause, for the extension of
which this society was established, was advancing in public favour and
increasing success.” He could not repress the sensations of almost
parental pleasure, which he felt in the survey of the rising state and
rapidly increasing importance of an institution, the establishment and
promotion of which had employed the best part of his life." He de-
clares too, that "all his labours were amply rewarded, in beholding
this institution arrived at a maturity which promises to resist the fate of
the varying fashions, that rise and sink in the stream of time." He as-
sures us that "he was abundantly consoled, and eveni temunerated for
all his cares, all his anxieties, and all his solicitudes, when he considered
and reflected on the stability which this society has acquired in the
conviction of the public mind." And he was persuaded that it will be
enabled" to diffuse its blessings to the human race, when Providence
shall permit him no longer to be the agent in administering these bless-
ings to his fellow-creatures, or the feeble organ of recording these. no-
blest offices of humanity, for the information and instruction of unborn
ages." This period is too soon arrived we have to lament, though we
may acquiesce in, that dispensation of Divine Providence which has de-
prived the society of his invaluable services. He will long live in its
grateful remembrance, and in the grateful remembrance of his country
and mankind. He not only proposed the establishment of this truly
humane institution, but he fostered it from its birth: he protected it
with all the attention, solicitude, and interest of a parént; through the
critical periods of infancy and youth: and he reared it, by a prudent
and discriminating vigilance for its welfare and utility, to its present
vigorous state of manhood.
Dr. Towers, in addressing the general court of directors of the society,
in 1776, relative to Dr. Hawes, amongst other things, thus speaks of
him: "To the well-known humanity of his disposition, and to that
activity of benevolence for which he was so remarkable, this society, in
a great degree, owed its origin. The reasonableness and utility of an in-
stitution of this kind had been very early seen by him, and therefore
he had laboured to promote it, with a diligence and an ardour that will
ever do him honour. Indeed, befőré the establishment of this society,
he had publicly advertised rewards for notice to be brought him of any
persons in such situations, within a reasonable distance from his own
habitation, as those who are now the objects of this institution; which
was the strongest demonstration of his solicitude to promote so benevo
lent a design; and that afterwards, by joining with his worthy col
▾


4 T
į
INVENTIONS FOR THE
690
[
1
3
league, Dr. Cogan, in adopting the necessary measures for establishing
the present institution, he had performed a real service to his country.
The Royal Humane Society will be a standing monument of what
may be accomplished by individual persevering exertions in the cause of
humanity; and will transmit the name of HAWES to posterity as a be-
nefactor to the human race. He has left us full of years, honour, and
usefulness. He is gone to inherit the reward of a life most disinterest-
edly and assiduously devoted to the preservation of the lives of his fel-
low-creatures. While we admire and applaud the benevolent zeal, ac-
tivity, and energy, which he uniformly displayed in his public charac-
ter, while we love him for his numerous private virtues, let us imitate
his example, that we may be associated with him, in the more active,
useful, and beneficent pursuits of a future life.
Inscription placed on a Monumental Tablet in Islington Church.
"To perpetuate,
while this frail Marble shall endure,


the meritorious Exertions of an Individual,
and to excite the Emulation of others,
THE GOVERNors of the ROYAL HUMANE SOCIETY
have caused this Tablet to be inscribed
with the Name of WILLIAM HAWES, M. D.-
by whose personal and indefatigable Labours
an Institution honourable to the Nation,
and highly beneficial to the World at large,
was founded, fostered, and matured.
And long, very long, may it flourish,
The Ornament and the Pride of Britain.
This excellent, unassuming, persevering Philanthropi
was born in Islington, Nov. 28, 1736;
died in Spital Square, Dec. 5, 1808,
and was buried on the 13th, near these Walls.
Go, Reader; and imitate those virtuous Actions,
which the latest Posterity will applaud and venerate
and which the recording Angel has registered in Hea
Well done, good and faithful Servant!
Enter thou into the joy of thy Lord!
[At Bottom, The Figure from the Society's Medal;
and the Motto, LATEAT SCINTILLULA FORSAN.]
1
Subsequent Institutions of other Humane Societies
We have great satisfaction in recording the establishment of similar
Humane Societies in various parts of the world; and that the success
attending these has exceeded the sanguine expectations of their founders
and supporters, viz.
1. British United Empire.-Birmingham, Bristol, Exeter, Gloucester,
Kingston upon Hull, Lancaster, Northampton, Melton Mowbray, New-
castle upon Tyne, Norwich, Shropshire, Whitehaven, Wisbeach, Bath,
Leicester, Eastern coast, York, Rivers, Wreak and Eye, Falmouth,
,
1
I



PRESERVATION OF LIFE.
691
Suffolk, Bedford.-Aberdeen, Glasgow, Leith, Montrose, Forth and
Clyde Navigation.-North Wales, Swansea.-Dublin, Cork.
2. British Foreign Settlements.-Madras, Calcutta, Halifax, Nova
Scotia, Jamaica.
3. Foreign.-Berlin, Gorlitz, Prague, Copenhagen, St. Petersburgh,
Algiers, Pennsylvania, Boston, New York, Baltimore.
Directions for the recovery of Drowned Persons, and prevention of prema-
ture death.
These objects had engaged the attention of the Society from its com-
mencement, as essentially requisite to effect the purpose for which it was
instituted. From this society many others have emanated, and in
ge-
neral adopted the directions of the parent institution; and where they
have amplified, they have not weakened the principles, which were
founded upon science and confirmed by experience. At the same time,
we have availed ourselves of some excellent observations from some of
these humane societies, and particularly of those instituted in America,
where the extremes of heat and cold greatly exceed those of the British
empire.
1. Treatment of Drowned Persons. In removing the body to a con-
venient place, care must be taken that it be not bruised, nor shaken
violently, nor roughly handled, nor carried over any man's shoulders
with the head hanging downwards, nor rolled upon the ground, nor
over a barrel, nor lifted up by the heels; for experience proves that all
these methods may be injurious, and destroy the small remains of life.
The unfortunate object should be cautiously conveyed by two or more
persons; or in a carriage upon straw, lying as on a bed, with the head
a little raised, and kept in as natural and easy a position as possible.
The body being well dried with a cloth or flannel, should be placed
in a moderate degree of heat, but not too near a large fire. The window
or door of the room should be left open, and no more persons be admit-
ted into it than those who are absolutely necessary; as the lives of the
patients greatly depend upon their having the benefit of pure air. The
warmth most promising of success is that of a bed or blanket well heated.
Bottles of hot water should be laid at the bottoms of the feet, to the
joints of the knees, and under the arm pits; and a warming pan moder-
ately heated, or hot bricks wrapped in cloths, should be passed over
the body. The natural and kindly warmth of a healthy person lying
by the side of the body has been found in some cases, particularly of
children, very efficacious.
Should the accident happen in the neighbourhood of a warm bath,
brewhouse, bakehouse, glasshouse, or any fabric where warm lees, ashes,
embers, grains, sand, water, &c. are easily procured, it would be of
great importance to place the body in any of these, moderated to a de-
gree of heat little exceeding that of a healthy person; or in summer,
the exposure to sunshine has been proved obviously beneficial. Fric-
tion with the hand, or with warm flannel or coarse cloth, so as not to
injure the skin, should also be tried with perseverance for a considera-
ble period of time.



The subject being placed in one or other of these advantageous cir-
cumstances as speedily as possible; a bellows should be applied to one
nostril, whilst the other nostril and the mouth are kept closed, and the
lower end of the prominent part of the wind-pipe is pressed backward.
699
INVENTIONS FOR THE
The bellows is to be worked in this situation; and when the breast 18
swelled by it, the bellows should stop, and an assistant should press the
belly upwards to force the air out. The bellows should then be applied
as before, and the belly again to be pressed; this process should be
repeated from twenty to thirty times in a minute, so as to imitate na-
tural breathing as nearly as possible. Some volatile spirits heated may
be held under the valve of the bellows whilst it works. If a bellows
cannot be procured, some persons should blow into one of the nostrils,
whilst the mouth and the other nostril are closed as before.
•

If there be any signs of returning life, such as sighing, gasping,
twitching, or any convulsive motions, beating of the heart, the return
of the natural colour and warmth; opening a vein in the arm, or exter-
nal jugular of the neck, may prove beneficial, but the quantity of blood
taken away should not be large. The throat should be tickled with a
feather, in order to excite a propensity to vomit, and the nostrils also
with a feather, snuff, or any other stimulant, so as to provoke sneezing,
A tea spoonful of warm water may be administered now and then, in
order to learn whether the power of swallowing be returned; and if it
be, a table spoonful of warm wine or brandy and water, may be given
with advantage; and not before, as the liquor might fall into the lungs
before the power of swallowing returns. The other methods should be
continued with ardour and perseverance for two hours or upwards, al-
though there should not be the least symptom of life.

In the application of stimulants, electricity has been recommended,
and when it can be early procured, its exciting effects might be tried
in aid of the means already recommended; but the electrical strokes
should be given in a low degree, and gradually, as well as cautiously in-
creased.
Other objects of the Humane Society,
Suspension by the Cord or Hanging. In hanging, the external veins
of the neck are compressed by the cord, and the return of the blood
from the head thereby impeded, from the moment that, suspension takes
place; but, as the heart continues, to act for a few seconds, after the
windpipe is closed, the blood which is sent to the head during this in-
terval is necessarily accumulated there. Hence it is, that in hanged
persons (strangulation) the face is greatly swollen, and of a dark red or
purple colour; the eyes are commonly suffused with blood, enlarged,
and prominent.

From the great accumulation of blood in the vessels of the head,
many have been of opinion that hanging kills chiefly by inducing apo-
plexy; but it has, however, been clearly proved, that in hanging, as
well as in drowning, the exclusion of air from the lungs is the immedi-
ate cause of death. From which it appears, that the same measures re-
commended for drowned persons are also necessary here; with this ad-
dition, that opening the jugular vein, or applying cupping-glasses to
the neck, will tend considerably to facilitate the restoration of life, by
lessening the quantity of blood contained in the vessels of the head, and
thereby taking off the pressure from the brain.-Except in persons who
are very full of blood, the quantity taken away need seldom exceed an
ordinary tea-cupful, which will, in general, be sufficient to unload the
vessels of the head, without weakening the powers of life.
To prevent the effects of Lightning.-When persons happen to be over-

PRESERVATION OF LIFE
698

•
taken by a thunder-storm, although they may not be terrified by the
lightning, yet they naturally wish for shelter from the rain which usu-
ally attends it; and, therefore, if no house be at hand, generally take
refuge under the nearest tree they can find. But in doing this, they
unknowingly expose themselves to a double danger; first, because their
clothes being thus kept dry, their bodies are rendered more liable to
injury, the lightning often passing harmless over a body whose surface
is wet; and, secondly, because a tree, or any elevated object, instead
of warding off, serves to attract and conduct the lightning, which, in
its passage to the ground, frequently rends the trunks or branches, and
kills any person or animal who happens to be close to it at the time.
Instead of seeking protection, then, by retiring under the shelter of a
tree, hay-rick, pillar, wall, or hedge, the person, should either pursue
his way to the nearest house, or get to a part of the road or field which
has no high object that can draw the lightning towards it, and remain
there until the storm has subsided.
It is particularly, dangerous to stand near leaden spouts, iron gates,
or palisadoes, at such times; metals of all kinds having so strong an
attraction for lightning, as frequently to draw it out of the course which
it would otherwise have taken.
When in the house, avoid sitting or standing near the window, door,
or walls, during a thunder gust. The nearer you are placed to the
middle of a room, the better.
The greatest danger to be apprehended from lightning is explosion
of powder-magazines, which might, in a great degree, be secured from
danger by insulation, or by lining the bulk, heads, and floorings, with
materials of a non-conducting nature, the expence of which would not
be great.
When a person: is struck by lightning, strip the body, and throw
buckets-full of cold water over it for ten or fifteen minutes; let conti-
nued frictions and inflations of the lungs be also practised; let gentle
shocks of electricity be made to pass through the chest, when a skilful
person can be procured to apply it; and apply blisters to the breast.

Additional Means for the Preservation of the Lives of Seamen.
The moment an alarm is given, that a man is overboard, the ship's
helm should be put down, and she should be hove in stays; an object
that can float should also be thrown overboard as near the man as pos-
sible, with a rope tied to it, and carefully kept sight of, as it will prove
a beacon, towards which the boat should pull as soon as lowered
down. A grand primary object is, having a boat ready to lower down
at a moment's notice, which should be hoisted up at the stern most
convenient; the lashings, tackle, &c. to be ever kept clear, and a
rudder, tiller, and spare oar, ever to be kept in her; and when dark,
she should not be without a lanthorn and a compass.
There should also be kept in her a rope with a running bowline,
ready to fix in or to throw to the person in danger; coils of small rope,
with running bowlines, should also be kept in the chains, quarters,
and abaft, ready to throw over, as it most generally occurs that men
pass close to the ship's side, and have been often miraculously saved
by clinging to ropes.
J
Sailors have no conception that mephitic air will be productive of
694
INVENTIONS FOR THE
immediate apparent death. It is granted by most seamen, that smok-
ing or fumigating ships with charcoal is the most effectual means of
killing all kinds of vermin, and is therefore always resorted to.
It is recommended, for the certain preservation of our brave defenders,
that no sailor nor boy be allowed to go under the decks until the hatches,
and all the other openings, have been for three hours uncovered; in that
time all noxious vapours will be effectually detached.
To prevent the fatal Effects of drinking Cold Water, or Cold Liquors of
any kind, in Warm Weather, or when heated by Exercise, or otherwise.
Avoid drinking whilst warm, or, drink only a small quantity at once,
and let it remain a short time in the mouth before swallowing it; or,
wash the hands and face, and rince the mouth with cold water before
drinking. If these precautions have been neglected, and the disorder
incident to drinking cold water hath been produced, the first, and in
most instances, the only remedy to be administered, is sixty drops of li-
quid laudanum in spirit and water, or warm drink of any kind.
If this should fail of giving relief, the same quantity may be given
twenty minutes afterwards.
When laudanum cannot be obtained, rum and water, or warm water,
should be given. Vomits and bleeding should not be used without con-
sulting a physician.
To prevent the Effects of Excessive Cold.
Persons are in danger of being destroyed by it, when they become
very drowsy, or are affected with general numbness or insensibility of
the body. As the cold which proves fatal generally affects the feet first,
great care should be taken to keep them as warm as possible; by pro-
tecting them when exposed to cold with wool, or woollen socks within
the shoes or boots, or with large woollen stockings drawn over them, or
when riding, with hay or straw wrapped round them; by keeping up
a brisk circulation in the blood-vessels of the feet, which will be best
preserved by avoiding tight boots or shoes, by moving the feet con-
stantly; or, when this is impracticable, from a confined situation, and
two or more persons are exposed together, by placing their feet, with-
out shoes, against each other's breasts.


Where the cold has produced apparent death, the body should be
placed in a room without fire, and rubbed steadily with snow, or cloths
wet with cold water, at the same time that the bellows is directed to be
applied to the nose, and used as in the case of drowning. This treat-
ment should be continued a long time, although no signs of life appear;
for some persons have recovered, who appeared lifeless for several hours.
When the limbs only are affected by the cold, they should be rubbed
gently with snow, or bathed in cold water, with ice in it, until the
feeling and power of motion returns; after which, the bathing, or the
rubbing with snow is to be repeated once every hour, and continued a
longer or shorter time, as the pains are more or less violent.
To prevent Danger from Exposure to the Excessive Heat of the Sun.
Affections from this cause, or strokes of the Sun, so called, may be
suspected, when a person exposed to its rays is seized with a violent
head-ach, attended with throbbing or giddiness; followed with faintness
PRESERVATION OF LIFE,
695

and great insensibility, heat and dryness of the skin, redness and dry-
ness of the eyes, difficulty of breathing; and, according as the disease
18: more or less violent, with a difficulty, or entire inability of speaking
or moving.
To guard against these dangerous effects of heat, it will be proper to
avoid labour, or violent exercise, or exposure to the rays of the sun im-
mediately after a hearty meal. To avoid drinking spirits of any kind.
Small beer, vinegar and water sweetened with sugar, or any thin cool-
ing beverage, are alone proper for persons exposed to the excessive heat
of the sun.
Should the symptoms increase, it will be proper to remove the affected
person into a cool place, to open the garments, particularly about the
neck and breast, and if the pulse beat forcibly, to bleed immediately,
the quantity proportioned to the strength of the pulse; but, should the
pulse be weak, bleeding must not be performed.
·
The feet and legs, and even the lower portion of the body, may be
placed in cold water. Should, however, this process prove ineffectual,
linen cloths wet with cold water, or water and vinegar, may be applied
to the temples, and over the whole head; and draughts of vinegar and
water sweetened may be freely drank.
The dangerous Effects of Noxious Vapours, from Wells, Cellars, Fer-
menting Liquors, &c. may be prevented,
By procuring a free circulation of air, either by ventilators, or open-
ing the doors or windows where it is confined, or by changing the air,
by keeping fires in the infected place, or by throwing in stone-lime re-
cently powdered.
When a person is apparently dead from the above-mentioned cause,
the first thing to be done is to remove the body to a cool place in a
wholesome air; then let the body be stripped, and let cold water be
thrown from buckets over it for some time. This is particularly use-
ful in cases of apparent death from drunkenness.-Let the treatment
now be the same as that for drowned persons.
Burning of Females, by their Clothes having caught Fire.
A by-stander, or the first person who is present, should instantly
pass the hand under all the clothes to the sufferer's shift, and raise
the whole together, and closed over the head, by which the flame
will indubitably be extinguished, and this may be effected in a few
seconds, that is, in the time that a person can stoop to the floor, and
rise again; and no other method can be so ready, expeditious, and
effectual.
The sufferer will facilitate the business, and also prevent serious in-
jury, by covering her face and bosom with her hands and arms-
Should it happen that no person is nigh to assist her, she may in
most cases, if she has presence of mind, relieve herself, by throwing
her clothes over her head, and rolling or lying upon them.
The females and children in every family should be told, and shewn,
Flame always tends upwards-and that, consequently, while they re-
main in an upright posture, with their clothes on fire (it usually
breaking out in the lower part of the dress), the flames, meeting ad-
ditional fuel as they rise, become more powerful and vehement in pro-
portion-whereby the bosom, face, and head, being more exposed than
་
696
INVENTIONS FOR THE
SDA
other parts to this intense heat, or vortex of the flames, màst neces-
sarily be most injured; therefore, in such situation, when the sufferer
is alone, and incapable, from age, infirmity, or other cause, of extin-
guishing the flames, by throwing the clothes over her head, ás before
directed; she may still avoid much torture, and save life, by throwing
herself at full length on the floor, and rolling herself thereon-By this
method the flames may possibly be extinguished; their progress will
infallibly be retarded; the bosom, face, and head, preserved from in-
jury; and an opportunity be afforded for assistance.
The following have been some of the Appearances on Dissection of the
Drowned.
The Brain.—In the first place:The vessels of the brain are of a
remarkably dark colour, but not turgid, nor is there usually any ex-
travasated blood.
The Bronchia. 2.-There is found in the upper bronchial cavities
a certain frothy fluid, of a palish red.
Lungs. 3. The lungs are more livid than in their healthy state;
and both the veins and arteries are considerably distended, by a large
quantity of black blood.
Heart. 4.-The right auricle and ventricle of the heart are filled
with blood of a dark colour: in the left auricle and ventricle there is
found a considerable quantity of blood of a similar appearance.
Arteries. 5. In the last place in examining minutely the trunks
and branches of the arteries to their utmost perceptible extent, we find
them universally suffused with blood of a very dark colour.
Cases of Recoveries from apparent Death or imminent Danger.
Although it may be observed with concern, that many unhappy obi
jects of intended suicide, particularly of the female sex, have come un-
der the notice of the society, it must afford some alleviation of pain tò
the feeling mind, to be informed that no instance of a second attempt
has occurred; which probably has resulted from the care exercised by
the society in conveying to these objects, not only religious counsel, but
also presenting them with Bibles and other appropriate books.
In perusing the histories of the numerous recoveries from extreme
danger, which have lately occurred, contrasted with the diminution of
fatal cases, it may be inferred, that the rewards proposed, and punctu-
ally paid, have contributed with the impulses of humanity, in exciting
more immediate and prompt exertions to save life. Many instances
have been afforded, even of youths having braved every danger, at the
hazard of their own lives, to save those of their fellow-creatures. Un-
doubtedly the improvement in the means of resuscitation has contribut-
ed some share in this happy revolution.
The following case of recovery from the effects of suspension by the
cord is communicated by Dr. Addington:
2
%
The subject of this case was John Horsell, a stout boy of 16 years of
age, in the service of Mr. Bredaz, at a tavern in Elder-street, Spital-
fields. No assignable reason for his conduct has been discovered.--He
was in his usual state of health, and had not shewn any material´un-
happiness or discontent, nor been guilty of any thing to occasion the
displeasure of his master or other persons around him. There is some
·
-*.


PRESERVATION OF LIFE.
697
*
~
reason to believe that he might have been slightly intoxicated, but this
was not very apparent to his companions.
The facts of the case are as follows: -On Saturday night, the 3d of
September 1808, about 12 o'clock, on going up stairs to bed, with a
younger boy, his fellow-servant, he laid hold of a horse-hair clothes-
line, which was suspended loosely across the garret where they slept,
and jocosely telling his companion he would shew him how people
hanged themselves, he coiled it rouud his neck, and with both hands
drew it tight, till his face became bloated and discoloured.-Qn seeing
this, the little boy who was with him endeavoured to loosen the cord
from his neck; but Horsell, to prevent it, beat him off with his hands,
and at the same time, quitting his standing by sliding his feet along the
floor, he became violently agitated, and completely suspended.-The
other boy now ran down stairs and gave the alarm, when Robert
Franklin, a youth of 17, a nephew of Mr. Bredaz, hastened to the
room, and with his knife, which with great presence of mind he had
taken from his pocket and opened as he ran up the stairs, cut the line,
and released the miserable sufferer from his suspension. His face was
now black and swollen, and he fell completely senseless on the floor.
Four gentlemen, viz. Mr. Stratton, Mr. Ferry, Mr. Bowley, and Mr.
Gibbs, who were in the house, immediately went up stairs to give as-
sistance, and Mr. Bredaz, at the same instant, sent out for medical aid.
By the time I reached the chamber it is supposed that from fifteen to
twenty minutes had elapsed from the moment of strangulation.
•

*
·
I found the patient under the care of the four gentlemen above-nam-
ed, who were rubbing the extremities, stimulating his nostrils with the
smoke of tobacco, and using such methods as occurred to them of sup-
porting the remains of life; and it is but justice to them to mention
that they staid on the spot throughout the night, and by their humane
and active assistance, contributed greatly to the efficiency of the mea-
sures which were employed. The master of the boy also, Mr. Bredaz,
and his whole family, rendered every possible aid and exertion with the
most diligent and anxious attention.
1
The boy was lying at the bottom of the bed with his head raised on
pillows, and his legs supported by his attendants: totally insensible;
his eyelids closed; and when they were opened the pupils were seen
dilated, and did not contract on the approach of light; his countenance
bloated and of a livid colour; his jaw firmly closed; his trunk and limbs
extended to the utmost and perfectly rigid; his respiration slow, labo-
rious, and loudly stertorous; his pulse slow, regular, and rather feeble;
the heat of his skin natural. In a very few minutes he became agitated
by convulsions of the trunk and of all the limbs, so violent that it was
with difficulty that four or five persons could keep him upon the bed.
The muscles of the left side were rather more affected by them than
those of the right. The alternation of these convulsions, with a state
of rigid extension of the limbs, and a forcible bending of the head and
body backwards, may, with the above-mentioned symptoms, serve to de-
scribe his situation, with very little change, for at least four successive
hours; after which the rigidity abated, and the convulsions became
less frequent and less severe.
One of the gentlemen present since informed me, that, when he first
saw the boy, and for seven or eight minutes, as he thinks, afterwards,

4 U
698
INVENTIONS FOR THE
there was not the smallest appearance of life, neither pulse, respiration,
motion, nor any degree of sensibility to what must otherwise have
given him pain, as the falling of particles of burning tobacco blown up-
on the face with pipes, with which they were throwing the smoke of it
towards his eyes and nostrils. The first sign of life was a very slow
and weak pulse in the wrist, which became perceptible before any re-
spiration took place; and he thinks that this last did not occur till within
a very few minutes of my seeing him.
My first step was to take away quickly, by a large orifice, about
twelve ofnces of blood from the arm. I did not open either of the ju-
gular veins, having heretofore found that, however easy it is to open
them, they are not always so easily to be closed again; and in this in-
stance I was particularly glad that I had not done it, because, in spite
of every care to prevent such an occurrence by adhesive plaster, long
bandages, &c. &c. the bleeding from the arm, in consequence of the pa-
tient's strong muscular exertions, was often renewed; and could only
be restrained by constant and long continued pressure, in a degree
which it might have been highly injurious to apply to the neck. Some
favourable change in his countenance ensued upon the loss of blood,
but that was all: the other symptoms were unaltered. I then endea-
voured to excite the action of vomiting, and for this purpose, with
much difficulty, and at the expence of one of the poor fellow's teeth, Ị
introduced the pipe of a metal funnel into his mouth, and poured in a
solution, first of zincum vitriolatum, and afterwards of cuprum vitriola-
tum, small quantities of which only were swallowed at a time, but
enough ere long to produce repeated and copious vomitings, whereby
we ascertained clearly that his stomach had been overcharged. Soon
afterwards we were able to act freely and forcibly upon the intestines
by means of a clyster of infusion of tobacco.
These were the measures, repeating them as they appeared necessary,
which were principally resorted to for the first two hours; during which
time, notwithstanding some advantages evidently gained, the patient's
recovery appeared very doubtful. His countenance was somewhat im-
proved, and his pulse a little more free; but the coma and stertor re-
mained: the trismus and convulsions had not been lessened: the iris
continued insensible to light; and at times the extremities became cold,
the pulse feeble, and the powers of life seemed to be giving way. After
persevering in our efforts, however, for some time longer, a relief of the
symptoms became more apparent; and by the end of about three hours
more, it was evident that a considerable change for the batter had taken
place: the pulse was now more frequent and full; the respiration more
easy; the permanent spasm had greatly subsided, and the convulsive
paroxysms occurred seldomer, and were much slighter; the boy ap-
pearing in the intervening periods to be only very soundly asleep, with
a fainter kind of snoring; the pupil began to contract on the approach
of light; the power of swallowing also was restored in a considerable
degree, of which we availed ourselves first of all to provoke vomiting
again (an effort by which he always discharged a quantity of undigest-
ed food; and appeared proportionally relieved), and afterwards to throw
in a little warm brandy and water, and some diluted sal volatile. In
this last interval of three hours, besides vomiting, and purging, we ap-
plied cupping-glasses, with the scarificator to the back of the neck and
·

·
•
7
PRESERVATION OF LIFE.
699
shoulders; the clyster of tobacco smoke (which, however, notwith-
standing the apparatus worked perfectly well, appeared to do nothing);
volatile alkali to the temples, nostrils, and fauces; and such other expe-
dients of less moment as occured to us.
J
At length, we had the satisfaction of perceiving the recovery of our
patient advance more rapidly, though it was not till after eight or nine
hours that his convulsions entirely left him; and still longer before his
speech and senses returned. Leeches were afterwards applied to the
temples: he remained sleepy, having only intervals of sense throughout
the succeeding day and night. On the next following day, Monday,
he was pretty well restored, being then capable of taking his food rea-
dily, and of holding a conversation with me, from which I attempted,
in vain, either to trace in his mind any recollection of what had passed
since his retiring to bed with his fellow-servant on the Saturday night
(this he remembered), or to collect from him any motive by which he
had been induced to perpetrate the horrid deed that had so nearly cost
him his life. It has since been intimated, I understood, that his father
(not now living) had formerly shewn some signs of insanity; but no-
thing of this sort had ever been observed in the boy.

Remarks by Dr. Addington.
How far the circumstances of this case may serve to throw any ad-
ditional light on the immediate cause of death in these occurrences, I
shall not presume to determine.
·
It will, I suppose, be admitted, that the leading symptoms were of
the apoplectic character; and those which cannot strictly be considered
as apoplectic, at least denoted the morbid affection to have its seat in
the brain, or other sensorial organs. Whether this affection was pro-
duced in the first instance principally by the suspension of respiration
from compression of the trachea by the cord, or by its pressure on the
large vessels in the neck, or by both conjointly, it is not easy to say.
The boy's breathing appears to have been totally stopped for a time,
though it cannot be ascertained exactly how long: the attendants ima-
gined eight or ten minutes, if not more. The probability, I think, is,
that it was not so long, since this function returned spontaneously, or
without the use of any means which could be thought to have the
power of re-exciting it: besides, respiration was not the first symptom
of returning life that made its appearance, a weak pulsation having
been previously felt in the wrist. Another circumstance to be noticed
is, that the recovery of the patient did not quickly ensue on the resto-
ration of the motion of the heart and lungs; which would appear to be
usually the case in resuscitation after drowning. Now, the several wri-
ters on the subject of suspended animation, differing as they do from
each other on the proximate cause of death (one attributing it to the
presence of black blood in the left side of the heart; another, to an af-
fection of the brain; another, to collapse of the lungs, and the want of
latent heat in the blood; another, to the privation of vital air), all admit
that there is a very close analogy in the symptoms and appearances on
dissection, whatever be the mode in which it is effected, whether by
submersion, strangulation, or suffocation; and agree in referring it prin-
cipally to the stoppage of respiration in the first instance.
2
Mr. Kite himself, who considers apoplexy as the proximate cause of

700
•
INVENTIONS FOR THE
I
;
death, either apparent or real, from these accidents, regards it, even in
hanging, not so much the effect of compression of the vessels by the
cord, as of the accumulation of blood, first in the right side of the heart,
in consequence of the cessation of motion in the lungs; and then, of
course, in the venæ cave, and jugulares. Accordingly, we are advised
to direct our efforts to the restoration of the function of the lungs, in
the expectation that, if this be once restored, the other symptoms will
yield of course. "No sooner," says Fothergill, " is the vital air ex-
cluded, than respiration is suspended, the passage of the blood through
the lungs is intercepted, and of course through the whole system. The
action of the heart being impeded by the same cause, the circulation is
suppressed. The brain, unsupported by the circulation, being unable
to exert its influence, the mental and corporeal actions cease, and the
mind is no longer conscious of the state of the body." This is his ac-
count of the manner in which life is gradually extinguished. In an-
other place, he describes that of its restoration, thus: "If at this period,"
i. e. when the animal is apparently dead, "the lungs in due time are
inflated with air, in imitation of the natural respiration," (much more
then, when natural respiration itself returns spontaneously) "the
dark-coloured blood begins to resume its florid hue, the heart to renew
its motion, weakly indeed at first, but by degrees more powerfully, till,
at length, the brain recovers its functions, and life is completely re-
stored."
✰
I have met with but few details of the particular appearances and
treatment in cases of strangulation. But there are two which exhibit a
considerable resemblance to the foregoing, particularly in the circum-
stance of the continuance or spontaneous return of the respiration. The
first is given by Mr. Kite, and ended fatally: the other by Mr. Hey, of
Leeds, with a happier termination. Mr. Kite's account is as follows:
"A middle-aged man hung himself: after hanging, it was supposed
from three to five minutes, he was cut down. He was senseless and
speechless; but his pulse, respiration, and power of deglutition, still re-
mained. A surgeon was sent for, who blooded him, and left him some
medicine. I saw him about an hour and half after the accident, at
which time he was in a deep apoplectic fit, attended with all the most
violent symptoms of that strongly-marked disease. As he had been
drinking, several emetics were exhibited, and purgatives given both by
the mouth and rectum, but they did not produce the least effect. The
pulse being large and soft, made me dubious as to the propriety of an-
other general bleeding; cupping-glasses, therefore, were applied to the
head and breast, and three or four ounces were drawn off by their
means; frictions and stimulants were likewise had recourse to, but, af-
ter lying three or four hours, nature was no longer able to maintain the
unequal conflict.
"The next day the body was opened. The dura mater adhered very
firmly to the inside of the skull, and it required considerable force to
separate them. On removing the dura mater, the vessels of the pia
mater did not appear more distended than usual; but I afterwards
thought there was a larger proportion of blood in the vessels of the brain
in general than I had observed in others. There was no inflammation
on this membrane; but at that part of it which was immediately below
the junction of the coronal with the sagittal suture, it adhered to the
dura mater on each side the longitudinal sinus: these adhesions were
+





PRESERVATION OF LIFE.
701
}
•
casily separated; the intervening substance was white, and about the
dimensions of a silver three-pence. The same appearance was found in
the middle portions of the membrane which cover the cerebellum and
pia mater, uniting them together. The brain in general was firmer
than common," &c. &c.
The account concludes with mentioning the condition of the thoracic
and abdominal viscera, which were sound.
Mr. Hey's case is thus related:
"In the evening, Mr.
being greatly distressed, on
account of some disagreeable circumstances in business, rashly hang-
ed himself. He was discovered by his son soon after the com-
mencement of his suspension, and, on being cut down, shewed
some signs of life. A surgeon, who lived near him, was immediately
sent for; who finding him lying insensible, and frothing at the mouth,
and not being informed of the cause of these symptoms, took about a
pound of blood from the arm. Soon after the evacuation, Mr.
was seized with convulsions. A blistering plaster was then applied be-
twixt the shoulders; and some spirit of hartshorn was sent, with direc-
tions to give a little in water, whenever it could be got down. When
the convulsions had continued an hour, without intermission, I was
desired to visit the patient, having attended the family in ordinary for
some years.
"I found him lying on a bed, which was placed on the chamber floor,
near an open window. He was insensible, and violently convulsed.
His hands and feet were cold; the rest of his body was hot, and in a
profuse perspiration. He was held down by five or six stout men, to
prevent any injury to himself from the violent and almost incessant agi-
tations which he suffered.
"I was of opinion, that these convulsions were the effect of debility,
brought on by the suspension, and probably increased by the copious
evacuation of blood. I determined, therefore, to give him some stimu-
lating medicines as soon as he could swallow them," &c.
The account goes on to state the good effects of warmth and cordial
treatment, with wine and volatile tincture of valerian, &c. which it is
not necessary to recite.
In both these instances it appears that, notwithstanding the quick and
spontaneous return of the respiration, if indeed it had ever been com-
pletely suspended, other symptoms of a very serious kind continued for
many hours; and in one of them went on to a fatal termination: the
other, which ended more happily, is adduced by Mr. Hey, to shew
what he considers the mischievous effects of bleeding, and the benefit of
stimulating remedies.

Waving, for the present, the consideration of these opinions, I shall
only remark the resemblance of both these cases to that of Horsel; and
the confirmation which I think they afford to the idea that the brain,
or sensorial organs, are more concerned in the injury primarily pro-
duced by these occurrences, than some of our latest writers on the sub-
ject have supposed; at least, that they are so in the case of hanging:
and if there be as much similarity as is alleged in the effects of the
various modes of destroying life before mentioned, perhaps there is
more foundation for Mr. Kite's opinion of apoplexy being generally the
proximate cause of death, than has recently been admitted.
The negative of this opinion seems to have been deduced rather from

702
INVENTIONS FOR THE
the results of experiments made on animals killed for this purpose, and
afterwards examined; than from the symptoms actually attending a state
of suspended or recovering animation in the human subject. It is
true, indeed, the examination of human bodies after death has not tended
to confirm the notion of apoplexy; but it is at the same time to be ob-
served, that the nature of diseases of the brain, or sensorial organs, is
by no means always to be detected by such examinations. There is
every reason to believe that many of these diseases, not excepting apo-
plexy itself, frequently exist, without producing any of those changes
of mechanical structure which are obvious to our senses, and to which
they have been attributed. A writer of very considerable sagacity and
great experience attributes these affections more frequently to the state
of the nerves of the stomach, or the nervous system generally, than to
that of the substance of the brain; and has cited many instances of com-
plete and fatal apoplexy, where there was no extravasation, or other
cause of compression within the skull. And Dr. Cullen, though he
adopts the doctrine of compression, yet. thinks it probable "that this
disorder does not always depend upon that cause, but sometimes upon
a certain state of immobility of the nervous powers, produced by cer-
tain circumstances in the nervous system itself, which seems to be com-
municated from one part of the body to another.”
P
With respect to experiments upon animals, there is one distinction
which I think has not been sufficiently attended to in the conclusions
drawn from them as to the seat and nature of particular morbid affec-
tions; which is this: that whilst such conclusions as relate merely to
visible and obvious deviations from the natural healthy structure and
condition of parts may be perfectly accurate, those, on the contrary,
which involve, in any degree, the state of vital power, or nervous ɛen-
sibility, are always liable to objection. Thus, for instance, in an ani-
mal that has been hanged or drowned, it is very easy to ascertain whe-
ther the brain be free from compression by extravasated fluid, or its
vessels free from any extraordinary degree of distension: but to con-
clude from thence that the morbid affection occasioned by such hanging
or drowning did or did not partake of the nature of apoplexy, or other
disease of the sensorial organs, is not so satisfactory. Neither should
we be justified in the inference, that because the carotids or jugulars of
a dog may be tied without inducing fatal mischief, that therefore a
compression or complete obstruction of those vessels may suddenly, and
yet safely, take place in the human subject.
I shall just add a few observations on the remedies which were em-
ployed in the above stated case.
I am well aware that at the present day bleeding from the arm in
any quantity is by no means commonly recommended on these occa-
sions: and I have not hesitated to adduce one case which has been pub-
lished by a most respectable surgeon in proof of what he considers the
mischievous effects of this practice. Nevertheless, I acknowledge I
have my doubts of the theory on which this opinion is founded; and
these doubts are not removed by the evidence of the case alluded to.
Mr. Hey's opinion is, that convulsions in those cases are purely the ef-
fect of debility; and, in the instance stated, that they were the imme-
diate consequence of venesection. To this opinion, the following con-
siderations may justly be opposed:
1. That convulsions are very commonly met with in the progress of
PRESERVATION OF LIFE.
703
.
"
recovery from these accidents, and that where neither bleeding nor
any other debilitating remedies have been employed.
2. That these convulsions take place, when the powers of life are
sensibly returning; not, therefore, when the debility is greatest.
3. That in Mr. Kite's case, where the debility, if such it was, termi-
nated in death, convulsions did not happen, although the patient had
been bled.
4. That, in the case of Horsel, the convulsions took place before the
opening of the vein; and although they were not sensibly relieved by it,
yet they gradually gave way under the use of other evacuating and de-.
bilitating remedies, and had partly ceased before any cordials or stimuli
had been employed; the pulse in the meantime acquiring strength and
freedom.
On the whole, is it not probable that the convulsions in these cases
are to be considered less as the effect of general debility, than of a vio-
lent derangement of the sensorial functions, in consequence of a sudden
change in the condition of the brain; or more properly of what Dr.
Kirkland calls the brainular system? Wherein precisely this change
consists, I do not profess to understand: it is very remarkable that these
convulsions, though not perhaps signs of, are certainly attendants on re-
covery from these accidents. Is it unreasonable then to conjecture that
they may be occasioned by the impetus of the circulation now restored
in the vessels of a most delicate organ in which it has for a time been
suspended? If there be any truth in this theory, bleeding, instead of
being injurious, may prove beneficial, by lessening the force of that re-
newed circulation whereby the exquisite organization and sensibility of
the brain and nerves are deranged. It is true the only visible effect of
it in my patient was a change in the colour of his face and expression
of his countenance; but this change was favourable, and led on to other
symptoms of amendment.

In Mr. Kite's case the patient was also bled, but this appears to have
been the only efficient remedy employed for some time. If after bleed-
ing, he was left in the hands of common attendants, on whom it de-
pended to administer, in circumstances of peculiar difficulty, the medi-
cines prescribed; or, if those medicines, though duly given, were not
of a more active kind than such as are usually employed for the evacu-
ation of the stomach and intestines, it is not surprising that they should.
fail of success. The dissection of this case clearly exhibits congestion.
within the skull, and supplies, another argument against Mr. Hey's no-
tion of debility: the man, as before observed, had been bled, yet no
convulsions followed.
The other remedies employed in the case of Horsel, at least the most
active of them, I mean the emetics and clysters of tobacco, will like-
wise fall under the censure of those who regard debility as the leading
feature in similar affections.
¿
Nothing however was more apparent to all the by-standers as well as
to myself, than the relief which the sufferer manifested after their oper-
ation; the degree of such relief being always proportioned to the activi-
ty of the medicine. It may perhaps be alleged, that this relief may
be accounted for from the peculiar circumstance of the patient's stomach
having been overloaded previous to strangulation. Be it so. This cir-
cumstance ought to be allowed all its proper weight; but even then
surely, this single circumstance will not be deemed of sufficient import-
704
INVENTIONS FOR THE
ance to determine the general propriety of exhibiting powerful emetics
and cathartics in these cases. At any rate, if these medicines are likely
to prove injurious in all other instances, this particular circumstance
justifying or requiring their exhibition, as an exception to the common
rule, would be a subject of so much regret that we ought never to pro-
ceed upon it, but upon the most certain proof of its existence. In my
patient, though suspected, it was not previously known, and was on-
ly demonstrated by the action of the emetics themselves.
But if it be true, as there is surely some reason to believe, that not
debility, but an affection of the brainular system, similar to that which
obtains in nervous apoplexy, be the real condition, and constitutes the
chief danger of these unhappy patients; may we not appeal to the well-
known efficacy of those remedies which excite powerfully the action of
the primæ viæ, followed and assisted by stimulants and cordials, in re-
lieving such affections, to support this practice?
After all, it is by no means the design of the author of this paper to
attempt to establish on the basis of a single case, any particular doctrine
concerning the treatment of these melancholy accidents; but merely to
state the facts, with such observations upon them as presented them-
selves, for the consideration of those who have had more experience in
this branch of medical pathology.
Case of Recovery from Drowning, by W. Whitworth, Esq. and Mr. T. P.
Smith, jun.
DEAR SIR,
Cornhill, May 28, 1808.
On Wednesday evening last, about six o'clock, in my ride home
through the Green Lanes to Hornsey, I observed when I was about 100
yards distant from the New River Bridge (which is parallel with what
is called the Eel Pie House), something floating, or rather bobbing up
and down, which I imagined to be a dog that had been skinned, there-
fore did not hurry, but was guarding my horse from startling; but,
when I came to the bridge, to my amazement, it was the face of a man,
and who appeared struggling in the last agonies of death. I immedi-
ately dismounted and flew to his relief, and, with the help of kind Pro-
vidence, I succeeded in getting him out. I was entirely alone, and it
must have been full ten minutes before any person came up to me, dur-
ing which time I turned him upon his face, then upon his back, and
moved him about as well as I could, by which he discharged a great
deal of water. I begged the persons who had now come up to wait by
him (as there was not a moment to be lost) while I rode to procure a
conveyance, but just as I was mounting, a distant car came in sight, in-
to which we put him, and had him taken to the Weavers' Arms, New-
ington Green. What followed you have herewith, in Mr. Smith the
surgeon's account. With great respect, I am, Dear Sir, Your most
obedient servant,
W. WHITWORTH.
To the Treasurer of the Royal Humane Society.
DEAR SIR,
Stoke Newington.
I have the pleasure to communicate to you a successful case of re-
covery from suspended animation occasioned by drowning. It occurred
on Wednesday 27th of May 1808, in Mr. Lill, of Church-street, Beth-
nal Green, aged 65 years; who was taken out of the New River, and
PRESERVATION OF LIFE.
705
carried to the Weavers' Arms, Newington Green, at which place I short-
ly after saw him: he was totally senseless, and to all appearance dead;
but after a vigorous application of the means recommended by the Hu-
mane Society for about twenty minutes, I had the satisfaction to observe
symptoms of returning life; encouraged by this success, our efforts
were continued, and in less than one hour the man was completely re-
covered.
MO
Much merit is due to Mr. Whitworth for his humane attention in re-
scuing Mr. Lill, as also to Edmund Watson, of Hangers' Lane, near
Tottenham, and George Sturges, servant to Messrs. Davis and Marsh,
distillers, Cold Bath Fields. I have the honour to be, Sir, your humble
THOMAS SMITH, jun. Surgeon.
servant,
Case of Recovery from Drowning, communicated by Mr. Teasdale.
SIR,
Merchant Taylors' Hall.
During the recent midsummer holidays, my eldest son, who is just
nine years old, together with one of his school-fellows, master Wathen,
was on a visit at his grand-mother's, Mrs. Guthrie, Cannon-court, near
Leatherhead. Mrs. G. had, at the same time, another of her grand-
children, master John Burrows, at her house.
These three little fellows, viz. my son, Wathen (who is about twelve
years old), and little Burrows (who is about seven), went to see the
mowers in an adjoining meadow, but soon wandered from them up the
river side, to the distance of about half a mile up the Mole, into which
river (unperceived by Wathen and my son) little Burrows fell; hearing
a noise, as that of a large fish jumping, the two boys turned towards the
river, where they saw their comrade Burrows with only the top of his
hat and his hands visible above the surface.
With admirable presence of mind (as if it were by previous concert,
and without saying a word to each other), both Wathen and Teasdale
ran to his assistance. Wathen first seized the bough of an impending
bush, and Teasdale followed his example; but they could not reach
Burrows until their own bodies were more than half over the bank of
the river.
Wathen first caught hold of one of Burrow's hands, and my son af-
terwards got hold of the other, but they had got such an imperfect hold,
that they were obliged to use great management and skill, by one re-
lieving the other, until they at last got such a purchase as enabled them
to drag the little sufferer from what (but for the presence of mind and
adroitness of these little fellows) must have proved his watery grave.
Little Burrows lay on the grass senseless, and without any apparent
sign of life, for upwards of five minutes, after which he gradually came
to his senses, and was supported to his grand-mama's by his two pre-
servers.
I need not point out to the intelligent and industrious managers of
your institution, that the merit of these little fellows is considerably
enchanced by their promptness in taking immediate and efficient mea-
sures to save their little comrade, without running for aid to the house
or the mowers in the adjacent meadow. I have the honour to be, Sir,
your most humble servant,
RICHARD TEASDALE.
$
To the Treasurer of the Royal Humane Society.
4 X
706
BREWING AND DISTILLING.
Of the ingenious contrivances for the furtherance of these humane
objects, it would be impossible to convey any idea equal to that im-
pressed by actual inspection; and the implements themselves may be
examined at the various establishments for furthering the purposes of
the Humane Society.
-
Some Account of Mr. Daniel's Life-preserver.
Though this contrivance is not original, it deserves encouragement.
The body of the machine, which is double throughout, is made of pli-
able water-proof leather; large enough to admit its encircling the body
of the wearer, whose head is to pass between two fixed straps, which
rest upon the shoulder; the arms of the wearer pass through the spaces
on the outside of the straps; one on each side, admitting the machine
under them to encircle the body like a large hollow belt; the strap on
the lower part of the machine is attached to the back of it, and by pass-
ing betwixt the thighs of the wearer, and buckling, holds the machine
sufficiently firm to the body, without too much pressure under the arms.
The machine being thus fixed, is inflated with air by the bearer blow-
ing from his lungs, through a cock affixed to the machine, a sufficient
quantity of air to fill the machine, which air is retained by turning the
stop-cock. The machine, when filled with air, will displace a sufficient
quantity of water to prevent four persons from sinking under water.
CHAP. XXIII.
BREWING AND DISTILLING.
BREWING.
THE art of brewing, or of preparing a vinous fermented liquor from
farinaceous seeds, is very ancient. It was known to the ancient Egyp-
tians, Germans, Spaniards, Gauls, and the inhabitants of the British
isles, and the north of Europe. The liquor made by them, however,
resembled more our sweet and mucilaginous ales, the use of hops being
of modern invention.
The vinous fermentation cannot be produced without saccharine mat-
ter; and any substance containing sugar is capable of producing ardent
spirit, or alkohol.
Barley is a grain consisting of fecula or starch, albumen, and a little
gluten; and by the process of malting, its fecula is converted into su-
gar: hence it affords a convenient material for the production of alko.
hol, which is the substance that gives the intoxicating quality to every
liquor.
Malting, or the converting barley into malt, is the first process in the
making of beer. To effect this, the grain is put into a trough with wa-
ter, to steep for about three days: it is then laid in heaps, to let the
water drain from it, and afterwards turned over and laid in new heaps.
In this state, the same process takes place as if the barley were sown
EREWING AND DISTILLING.
707
1
}
·
in the ground. It begins to germinate, puts forth a shoot, and the fe-
cula of the sced is converted into saccharine matter. When this is
sufficiently accomplished, which is known by the length of the shoot
(about of the length of the grain), this process of germination must
be stopped, otherwise the sugar would be lost, nature intending it for
the nourishment of the young plant. The malt is therefore spread out
upon a floor, and frequently turned over, which cools it, and dries
up its moisture, without which the germination cannot proceed. When
it is completely dried, in this manner, it is called air-dried malt, and is
very little altered in colour. But when it is dried in kilns, it acquires a
brownish colour, which is deeper in proportion to the heat applied; it is
then called kiln-dried. This malt is then coarsely ground in a mill.
Mashing is the next step in the process of brewing. This is perform-
ed in a large circular wooden vessel, called the mash tun, shallow in
proportion to its extent, and furnished with a false bottom, pierced with
small holes, and fixed a few inches above the real bottom. There are
two side openings, in the interval between the real and false bottom:
to one is fixed a pipe, for the purpose of conveying water into the tun,
and the other for drawing the liquor out of it. The malt is to be strew-
ed evenly over the false bottom of the same tun, and then, by means of
the side pipe, a proper quantity of hot water is introduced from the
upper copper. The water rises upwards through the malt, or as it is
called the grist, and when the whole quantity is introduced, the mash-
ing begins, the object of which is to effect a perfect mixture of the malt
with the water, so that the soluble parts may be extracted by it: for
this purpose, the grist is sometimes incorporated with the water by iron
rakes, and then the mass is beaten and agitated by long flat wooden
poles, resembling oars, which are either worked by the hand or by
machinery.
When the mashing is completed, the tun is covered in, to prevent the
escape of the heat, and the whole is suffered to remain still, in order
that the insoluble parts may separate from the liquor: the side is then
opened, and the clear wort allowed to run off, slowly at first, but more
rapidly as it becomes fine, into the lower or boiling copper.
The chief thing to be attended to in mashing, is the temperature of
the mash, which depends on the heat of the water, and the state of the
malt. If the water was let in upon the grist boiling hot, the starch
which it contains would be dissolved, and converted into a gelatinous
substance, in which all the other parts of the malt, and most of the wa-
ter, would be entangled beyond the possibility of being recovered by
any after process.
The most eligible temperature appears to be from 185° to 190° of
Fahrenheit; for the first mashing, the heat of the water must be some-
what below this temperature, and lower in proportion to the dark co-
lour of the malt made use of. For pale malt the water may be 180º,
but for brown it ought not to be more than 170°.
The liquor or wort (as it is called) of the first mashing is always by
much the richest in saccharine matter; but to exhaust the malt, a se-
cond and third mashing is required, in which the water may be safely
raised to 190° or upwards.
The proportion of wort to be obtained from each bushel of malt de-
pends entirely on the proposed strength of the liquor. It is said that
25 or 30 gallons of good table-beer may be taken from each bushel of
>
708
BREWING AND DISTILLING,
I
}
malt. For ale and porter of the superior kinds, only the produce of
the first mashing, or six or eight gallons, is to be employed.
Brewers make use of an instrument called a sacchrometer, to ascer-
tain the strength and goodness of the wort. This instrument is a kind
of hydrometer, and shews the specific gravity of the wort, rather than
the exact quantity of saccharine matter which it contains.
The next process in brewing is the boiling and hopping. If only
one kind of liquor is made, the produce of the three mashings is to be
mixed together; but if ale and table-beer are required, the wort of the
first, or first and second mashings is appropriated to the ale, and the
remainder is set aside for the beer.
All the wort destined for the same liquor, after it has run from the
tun, is transferred to the large lower copper, and mixed with a certain
proportion of hops. The better the wort, the more hops are required.
În private families a pound of hops is generally used to every bushel of
malt; but in public breweries, a much smaller proportion is deemed
sufficient. When ale and table-beer are brewed from the same malt,
the usual practice is to put the whole quantity of hops in the ale wort,
which having been boiled some time, are to be transferred to the beer-
wort, and with it to be again boiled.
When the hops are mixed with the wort in the copper, the liquor is
made to boil, and the best practice is to keep it boiling as fast as pos-
sible, till upon taking a little of the liquor out, it is found to be full of
small flakes like that of curdled soap. The boiling copper is in com-
mon breweries uncovered; but in many, on a large scale, it is fitted
with a steam-tight cover, from the centre of which passes a pipe, that
terminates by several branches in the upper or mashing copper. The
steam therefore produced by the boiling, instead of being wasted, is let
into the cold water, and thus raises it very nearly to the temperature
required for mashing, besides impregnating it very sensibly with the
essential oil of the hops, in which the flavour resides.
When the liquor is boiled, it is discharged into a number of coolers,
or shallow tubs, in which it remains until it becomes sufficiently cool
to be submitted to fermentation. It is necessary that the process of
cooling should be carried on as expeditiously as possible, particularly in
hot weather; and for this reason, the coolers in the brew-houses are
very shallow. Liquor made from pale malt, and which is intended for
immediate drinking, need not be cooled lower than 75 or 80 degrees;
of course this kind of beer may be brewed in the hottest weather; but
beer brewed from brown malt, and intended to be kept, must be cooled
to 65° or 70° before it is put into a state of fermentation. Hence in
the spring, the month of March, and in autumn, the month of Octo-
ber, have been deemed the most favourable for the manufacture of the
best malt liquor.
The last operations in brewing are the tunning and barrelling. From
the coolers the liquor is to be transferred into the working tun, and
with it is to be mixed a gallon of yeast to four barrels of beer, in order
to excite the vinous fermentation. In four or five hours the fermenta-
tion begins, and it requires from 18 or 20 hours to 48, before the wort
is fit to be put into the barrels, which may be regarded as finishing the
process: and it may be fined in the usual way, by isinglass, yolks of
egg, or a portion of gum-tragacanth.
BREWING AND DISTILLING.
709
Additional receipts in Brewing.
Cheap and easy Method of Brewing.-One bushel of malt, and three
quarters of a pound of hops will, on an average, brew twenty gallons
of good beer.
For this quantity of malt, boil twenty-four gallons of water; and
having dashed it in the copper with cold water to stop the boiling, steep
the malt (properly covered up) for three hours; then tie up the hops
in a hair cloth, and boil malt, hops, and wort, altogether, for three
quarters of an hour, which will reduce it to about twenty gallons.
Strain it off, and set it to work when lukewarm.
In large brewings this process perhaps would not answer, but in
small ones, where the waste is not so great, and where the malt can be
boiled, the essence is sure to be extracted.
To make excellent and wholesome Table Beer.—To eight quarts of boil-
ing water put a pound of treacle, a quarter of an ounce of ginger, and
two bay leaves; let this boil for a quarter of an hour, then cool, and
work it with yeast, the same as other beer.
Uses of Ground Ivy in Ale, &c.—The leaves thrown into the vat with
ale clarify it, and give it an antiscorbutic quality. The expressed juice
mixed with a little wine, and applied morning and evening, destroys
the white specks on horses' eyes.
To make Ginger Beer.-To every gallon of spring water add one
ounce of sliced white ginger, one pound of common loaf sugar, and
two ounces of lemon juice, or three large table-spoonfuls; boil it near an
hour, and take off the scum; then run it through a hair sieve into a tub,
and when cool (viz. 70°) add yeast in proportion of half a pint to nine
gallons; keep it in a temperate situation two days, during which it
may be stirred six or eight times; then put it into a cask, which must
be kept full, and the yeast taken off at the bung-hole with a spoon. In
a fortnight add half a pint of fining (isinglass picked and steeped in
beer) to nine gallons, which will, if it has been properly fermented,
clear it by ascent. The cask must be kept full, and the rising particles
taken off at the bung-hole. When fine (which may be expected in
twenty-four hours) bottle it, cork it well, and in summer it will be ripe
and fit to drink in a fortnight.

To make Yeast or Barm.-Mix two quarts of soft water with wheat
flour, to the consistence of thick gruel, or soft hasty pudding; boil it
gently for half an hour, and when almost cold, stir into it half a pound
sugar, and four spoonfuls of good yeast. Put it into a large jug, or
earthen vessel, with a narrow top, and place it before the fire, so that
it may, by a moderate heat, ferment. The fermentation will throw up
a thin liquor, which pour off and throw away; the remainder keep for
use in a cool place in a bottle, or jug tied over. The same quantity of
common yeast will suffice to bake or brew with. Four spoonfuls of this
will make a fresh quantity as before.
Substitute for Barm or Yeast.-This receipt was presented to the
October Meeting of the Manchester Agricultural Society, held at Al-
tringham, 1809, by Charles Lownds, Esq. when it was ordered that a
copy should be printed for each member.]
Boil two ounces of hops in four quarts of water twenty minutes;
strain it, and whilst hot stir in half a pound of flour; when milk-warm,
mix half a pint of good ale yeast, or a pint of this mixture, which you
should always reserve to keep a supply. When nearly cold, bottle and
710
BREWING AND DISTILLING.
#
I
cork it well, and keep it for use in a cool place; if too warm it would
be apt to fly; you will judge of this by the season of the year; observe
to fill the bottles only two-thirds full.
When used,, put of it into the flour you intend to make into bread, in
the proportion of a pint to twenty-four pounds, with water to make it
of a proper warmth; mix a little of the flour with it in the middle of the
mug, or kneading vessel; it must be covered close, and set in a toler-
ably warm place all night. Knead it well in the morning, and let it
stand some hours longer to rise. It should be eighteen or twenty hours
from the first putting together, before your bread is set into the oven
To make Yeast in the Turkish manner.-Take a small tea-cup full of
split or bruised peas, and pour on it a pint of boiling water, and set it
in a vessel all night on the hearth, or any warm place. The next morn-
ing the water will have a froth on it, and be good yeast, and will make
as much bread as two quartern loaves.
Easy Method of preserving Yeast.-Yeast may be preserved for a con-
siderable time, by coating a board with a whiting-brush, allowing the
coat to dry; then putting on another, which is in like manner to dry;
and so a third, and any number of successive coatings, which, when
perfectly dry, will keep vigorous for a long time. Another method is
to whisk the yeast until it becomes thin, and then to lay it upon a dry
platter or dish, repeatedly, with a soft brush as above-mentioned. The
top is then to be turned downwards to keep out the dust, but not the
air which is to dry it. By this method it may be continued till it be
two or three inches thick, when it may be preserved in dry tin canis-
ters for a long time good. When used for baking, a piece is to be cut
off and laid in warm water to diffuse or dissolve, when it will be fit
for use.
To make Artificial Yeast.-Boil potatoes of the mealy sort till they
are thoroughly soft; skin and mash them very smooth, and put as
much hot water as will make the mash of the consistency of common
beer yeast, and not thicker. Add to every pound of potatoes two
ources of coarse sugar or treacle, and when just warm, stir in it for
every pound of potatoes two spoonfuls of yeast; keep it warm till it
has done fermenting, and in twenty-four hours it may be used. A
pound of potatoes will make about a quart of yeast, and when made
will keep three months. Lay your bread eight hours before you
bake it.
1
N. B. Instead of water and sugar in the above receipt, beer has been
used, not bitter nor strong, in the same proportion, and with equal if
not better success.
Usefulness of the common Hazel-nut in Brewing.-In countries where
yeast is scarce, it is a common practice to take the twigs of hazel, and
twisting them together so as to be full of chinks, to steep them in the
ale-yeast during its fermentation; they are then hung up to dry, and
at the next brewing they are put into the wort instead of yeast. In
Italy the chips are frequently put into turbid wine, for the purpose of
clearing it, which is effected in twenty-four hours.
To prevent Beer from growing flat.—In a cask, containing eighteen
gallons of beer, becoming vapid, put a pint of ground malt, suspended
in a bag, and close the bung perfectly; the beer will be improved
during the whole time of drawing it for use.
To recover sour Beer.-When beer is become sour, add thereto some
BREWING AND DISTILLING.
711
oyster shells, calcined to whiteness, or, in place thereof, a little fine
chalk or whiting. Any of these will correct the acidity, and make it
brisk and sparkling; but it should not be long kept after such additions,
otherwise it will spoil.
To restore pricked or stale Beer.-To about a quart of stale beer, put
half a tea-spoonful of salt of wormwood; this will restore the beer, and
make it sparkle when poured into a glass, like bottled porter.
DISTILLATION.
The objects of distillation, considered as a trade distinct from the
other branches of chemistry, are chiefly spirituous liquors, and those
waters impregnated with the essential oils of plants, commonly called
simple distilled waters. The distilling of compound spirits and waters
is reckoned a different branch of business, and those who deal in that
way are commonly called rectifiers. This difference, however, though
it exists among commercial people, is not at all founded in the nature of
the thing; compound spirits being made, and simple spirits being rec-
tified, by the very same operations by which they are first distilled, or
at least with very trifling alterations. See Chemistry.
The great object with every distiller ought to be, to procure a spirit
perfectly flavourless, or at least as well freed from any particular flavour
as may be; and in this country the procuring of such a spirit is no easy
matter. The only materials for distillation that have been used in large
quantity, are malt, and molasses or treacle. Both of these, especially
the first, abound with an oily matter, which, rising along with the spi-
rit, communicates a disagreeable flavour to it, and from which it can
scarcely be freed afterwards by any means whatever.
Previous to the operation of distilling, those of brewing and fermen-
tation are necessary. The fermentation ought always to be carried on
as slowly as possible, and performed in vessels closely stopped, only
having at the bung a valve pressed down by a spring, which will yield
with less force than is sufficient to burst the vessel. It should even be
suffered to remain till it has become perfectly fine and transparent; as
by this means the spirit will not only be superior in quantity, but also
in fragrance, pungency, and vinosity, to that otherwise produced.
With regard to performing the operation of distilling, there is only
one general rule that can be given, namely, to let the heat in all cases
be as gentle as possible. A water-bath, if sufficiently large, is prefer-
able to any other mode, and will perform the operation with all the dis-
patch requisite for the most extensive business. As the end of rectifi-
cation is to make the spirit clean as well as strong, or to deprive it of
the essential oil as well as the aqueous part, it will be proper to have
regard to this even in the first distillation. For this purpose, the spirit,
as it first comes over, should be received into a quantity of cold water;
as by this means the connection between it and the oily matter will be
considerably lessened. For the same reason, after it has been once rec-
tified in the water-bath, it should be again mixed with an equal quan-
tity of water, and distilled a second time. Thus the spirit will be freed
from most of the oily matter, even though it has been very much im-
pregnated with it at first. After the spirit has been distilled once or
twice in this manner from water, it may be distilled in a water-bath

712
BREWING AND DISTILLING.
without any addition; and this last rectification will free it from most
· of the water it contains.
For the distillation of compound spirits, the following practical rules
will amply suffice, and will at the same time afford a competent view of
the general process.
pos-
In rectifying and distilling compound goods, a smaller still is known
to make a cleaner and better commodity than one that is larger; and
one that is half a hogshead gage, over and above your hand-breadth
depth from the edge or top of your still, is accounted the fittest size for
a moderate trade; both as it may be managed without fatigue, and as
it produces encouraging profit much superior to the fund it requires.
When you erect and place your still, and other utensils, let it be if
sible in a building, out-house, or shed, separate from, but nearly ad-
joining to, your dwelling-house or shop, to prevent any hazard which
may arise by fire, to which all spirituous goods are liable; and no other-
wise to be extinguished but with a woollen blanket or rug, drenched in
water, and cast upon the flame, which extinguishes it by excluding the
air. Let the work-house be large enough, not only in regard to your
still, worm-tub, and pump, which must be all placed in a row, or rang-
ed together, to contribute to your working with ease and pleasure, but
because your spirits which are for distilling must lie in some proper
place or part of your work-house, to be near at hand to charge your
still with, and at some reasonable distance from the fire: and also that
you may have room enough for placing all your empty vessels, tubs,
cans, and other utensils properly belonging to the distilling trade, to
have them near at hand on all occasions; and let your still-house floor
be paved with broad stones or flags, having a descent to carry off all
the wash from your still, your hot liquor from the worm-tub, and other
occasional slops, which will be made by washing your casks, &c. by
which your still-house floor will always be kept clean. They are usu-
ally kept in a cistern underneath, and pumped up as wanted. It is
absolutely necessary, that there be sufficiency of water where your
pump is to be sunk, both to keep your worm-tub continually cool, to
make up all your goods to their proper strength, and to serve all other
occasions whatsoever it matters not whether your water be soft or hard,
if you have plenty of it.
:
Your still must be placed upon brick-work, having an ash-hole of
24 inches long, nine inches broad; and to the iron bars, where your fire
is to be under your still, 21 or 22 inches high; made somewhat sloping,
the better to command the ashes. When the brick-work is made about
the height last mentioned, you must place your grate-door (both of
strong iron) before, or in the front of the stove, or place, where your
fire is to be made under your still. The iron door and frame must be
about ten inches long, and eight inches broad; close behind the door
and frame must be placed two cross iron bars, about two inches and a
half broad, half an inch thick, and 15 or 16 inches long; both ends of
which bars must be laid about three inches into the brick-work, for fix-
ing them the better; and the upper part of it must be about half an
inch lower than the upper edge of the door-frames. Just behind the
said two iron bars must be placed another flat iron bar, about an inch
and a half broad, half an inch thick, and sixteen inches long, fastened
in the brick-work as the former, and near an inch lower: upon which
last-mentioned flat iron bar, your iron grate must rest at the high-
BREWING`AND DISTILLING.
715
end; and the other ends of your iron grate must rest upon another flat
iron bar of the same dimensions, fastened at the furthest end, or most
distant part of your still-bottom. The iron grate must consist of about
eight bars of inch-square iron, but exactly of one length, made broad,
or flatted diagonally, at each end, to rest on the two cross iron bars, so
that the upper of the square bars must be even with the higher part of
the flat iron bars on which they rest, that the fire-shovel, or coal-rake,
may run smoothly along them. The square iron bars must be about
eighteen inches long, and laid loose within an inch-breadth of each
other upon the two broad iron bars, as firm as you can, yet so that they
may be put in, or taken out, as occasion requires; then raise your brick-
work, so that your still-bottom, when fixed or rested upon it, may be
about 10 or 12 inches above the iron grate, that the fire may have room
to play; and the part of the brick-work under the still, where the fire
is placed, and as far as it extends within the stove, must be inlaid with
hearth inch-tiles, or fire-brick, well fastened with such mortar as will
abide the fire much longer than common bricks. Let not the fire-place
be too broad, wherein your workman's judgment will have regard to the
sides not being of the same thickness with the bottom of your still.
There must be left a sloping place, or hole, proper for conveying the
smoke into the flue and round the still into the chimney; which flue
must be carried up a convenient height, to draw the smoke, and carry
it off. Let your still-cock come so far through the brick-work, that
your wash may run out either into cans, or otherwise, as you have con-
veniency for conveying it away. The brick-work about your still must
be exactly round, as high as the upper nails of your still, sloping from
the flame lest any liquor boil over, and very well mortared, and cover-
ed all round with coarse canvas or hop-sack, to keep the fire closer in,
the wall from cracking, and your clothes from being injured, and the
flue must be plaistered well within.
Your worm-tub must be placed very near your still, upon a strong
wooden frame according to the size of your tub, which must be six or
eight times the capacity of your still, so that every stave of the tub may
rest firmly upon the frame, the better to support the great weight of
such a quantity of water as is necessary to keep the worm constantly
cold, or cool enough. Your worm-tub frame must be so high, that
when the tub is placed upon it, the low end of your worm which comes
through the worm-tub, will admit of your cans being readily placed un-
der, and taken away when they are full. The upper end of your worm
must be placed so, that the arm of your still-head may go into it, with-
out any difficulty, and shut in so close as to be easily luted;
and your
worm-tub must stand so upright, that no liquor may hang in the
worm; which you may know, by putting a pint or quart of water into
the worm, which will run out at the lower end of it. In the middle
of your worm-tub you may place a wooden gutter three or four inches
square within, to reach from the top of the worm-tub to the bottom of
the same, having about three or four inches on the opposite sides at
the bottom end of it left open, that the fluid that is pumped into the
gutter, which descends, may flow out at the two breaches to the lower
part of the worm-tub; which forces all the hot water to ascend up-
wards, and runs either over the worm-tub, or rather through a leaden
pipe of a moderate size, which is called a waste pipe, being put
through and soldered in your worm-tub, and extended down your

J
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BREWING AND DISTILLING.
The water
tub-sides to what further length you please, to convey the warm water
from your tub, till the liquor in your worm-tub is perfectly cold;
which by the continuance of your still working will grow hot again
and again, and must be still cooled after the same manner.
conveyed in by a lead pipe at the bottom is still better. Your pump
must be placed next your worm-tub, and of such a height that you
may have a spout or cock put into that part of your pump which is
next your worm-tub, under which you may fix a good gutter, to reach
to, and be led into, the gutter that is fixed in the middle of your worm-
tub, that the liquor may be more easily, and with less waste, convey-
ed into your worm-tub, in order to cool it. You must have also an
other spout or cock in the fore-part of your pump, much lower than
the other, for drawing water for all common uses; the higher spout be
ing closed, and only appropriated for cooling the liquor when hot in
the worm-tub.
It will be necessary also to have a large back, set upon a strong
frame, to command the worm-tub, and to contain a large quantity of
water, having a large brass cock communicating with the still, &c. to
draw off what water you may stand in need of suddenly; which may
be of very great service to you upon any emergency; and may be drawn
off in much less time, and with less trouble, than by pumping; for the
still may accidentally be sometimes dry, and prove of dangerous con-
sequence, if you had not a quantity of water ready on all occasions in
your back to repair to. Your water-tub must be open at the upper
end, that you may dip or drench your cans into it, or lay any small
rundlets in it to steep and become tight; and that your tub may be
more easily filled with water.
You will find your interest in keeping a good middle-sized press,
placed in a corner of your still-house, and fixed so steadily as not to be
moved when you use it; having a very strong bed or place, in which
the goods to be pressed are put, and five or six hair-cloths, somewhat
broader than your press, to be put betwixt every layer of elder-berries,
cherries, raspberries, or any other things which are to be pressed; all
which are to be laid as thin as possible, and your press-screw to be
drawn pretty much, till the liquor run by a spout made of sheet-lead,
nailed to the fore-part of the bottom of your press, into one of your
cans, which must be placed under it, to receive the juice from the press,
and draw out your iron-pin, to give time to the press to empty itself
of what juice lies in the bed; then draw the screw a little closer, and
allow time for the juice to run out, and so more and more, till all the
juice is wholly drawn or pressed out of the goods.
You must have also, at least, three or four iron-bound open-headed
tubs, wide at the top, and narrower taper-wise down to the bottom;
fone of these tubs is to contain two puncheons or pipes of goods, an
other to contain one pipe, and another a hogshead) which must be
placed orderly in your still-house, and now and then filled with hot
liquor out of your still; and the iron hoops driven, or fastened, to keep
them firm, and in fit condition to hold the goods that are to be put or
made up in them. Likewise three or four iron-bound cans, either with
iron round hands or bales; one to hold five, another to contain four,
another three, and, if you please, another two gallons; not by bare mea-
sure to the top, but let your goods reach no higher than a brass mark
placed therein, determining the measure to which the liquor must rise.

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BREWING AND DISTILLING ·
715
Another necessary utensil is an iron-bound wood funnel, which by com
putation would hold three or four gallons, with a strong iron nosel or
pipe to put into the bungs of the casks which the goods are to be put
in, which must be ranged or placed upon a shelf along with the iron-
bound cans pretty near your still.
In some convenient part of your still-house, where room may be most
spared, must be placed a pretty large vessel, either covered or open,
with a cock in it, in which you must put all your feints or after-run-
ings, until you have a quantity worth your distilling over; into which
vessel or cask you may put the washings out of your casks, the dripp-
ings of your cocks, any goods accidentally spoiled, either by wrong mix-
ture, spilling on the ground, or otherwise, or any thing else that has a
spirituous matter or substance in it. Another piece of necessary furni-
ture for your still-house, and which cannot be dispensed with, is a good
strong copper or tin pump, of about five feet long, and six inches in
dircumference, its nosel about six inches from the top of the pump, and
the nosel about fourteen inches long from the body of the pump; be-
sides a little angular nosel about four inches, to be put on upon the
other, or taken off as your occasions require. The use of this pump,
with its appurtenances, is to draw off your spirits out of the pieces into
your cans to charge your still with; and for many other similar pur-
poses in which it will be serviceable.
A pewter crane or siphon is also absolutely necessary, made some-
what semilunar, or like a half-moon or angle, about six feet and a half
from one end to another, and four inches round about on the outside,
to draw goods out of any vessel where the pump cannot play. A pewter
valencia is likewise useful, being about two feet long, tapering at the
end, which you put into the piece, or any other vessel, to draw out any
small quantity, by putting or moving your finger on the upper side of
the valencia, whereby the liquor enters, for your tasting or trying its
proof; which, with the crane, may be hung against the wall.
៦
ter;
Hippocrates's bag, or flannel-sleeve, is another thing very necessary for
the distiller, whereby all bottoms of casks, though ever so thick and fe
calent, by putting into this bag or sleeve to filtre, become presently
clear, the porous parts of the bag being soon filled with the grosser mat-
and the thin or liquid element running clear from the bag, and as
good as any of the rest: also any foul goods or liquor may presently. be
made clear and fine, by putting some powdered alabaster into the goods
or liquor, or sprinkling the same on the bag to stop up its pores, by
which they presently become or run clear, leaving nothing but the se-
diment or gross matter in the bag; nor do the goods or liquor contract
the least ill flavour from the alabaster powder. This bag or sleeve is
made of a yard or ell of flannel, not over-fine or close-wrought, laid
sloping, so as to have the bottom of it very narrow, and the top as broad
as the cloth will allow, well sewed up the side, and the upper part of
the bag folded about a broad wooden hoop, and well fastened to it; then
boring the hoop in three or four places, it may be suspended by a cord.
You must have for your still-fire a large poker, fire-shovel, and coal-
rake, with other necessary utensils for your still-house; a cooper's hand-
saw, adze, gimlet, a striking gimlet, a hammer, a pair of scratching-
irons, a pair of tarriers, a bung-borer, a box-foreset, and a box of bungs.
When you are to distil, you are to make ready, against your still is
charged; a paste of the size of a turkey-egg, made half of Spanish wheat,
44
16
BREWING AND DISTILLING.
and the other half of rye-meal, bean-meal, or wheat-flour, well mixed
together, and made into a paste with water, of the consistence of an or-
dinary paste for baking; and having put on your still-head, with its
nose in the upper end of the worm, then take your paste, working and
making it pliable with the heat and operation of your hands, and spread
it upon the junctures of the body and head of your still, and that part
of the arm of your still-head which goes into the end of the worm, to
keep in the goods from boiling over: make the paste very smooth, by
wetting your hand (with which you lay on the paste) in water, to cause
it to lie the closer, and secure the goods from all mischances; and re-
serve a piece of paste, about the size of a small apple, lest the lutting
should crack or break out, which is very dangerous, and must therefore
be carefully attended to and examined, and in case of any defect, mend-
ed with the paste reserved for that purpose.
When you set up a new still, which has not been used, let it be filled,
within your hand-breadth of the brim, with water, and put to it a peck
of wheat-bran; and put the head upon the still, and fix it firmly on
with a wooden bar, about the thickness of your wrist, upon the loop, a
little below the neck of your still, and the upper end of the wooden bar
must be fastened under some beam or lentel perpendicularly, to prevent
the still-head from moving by the force of distillation; then lute your
still as directed in the foregoing paragraph; and having made a fire un-
der it proper for that purpose, draw off two, three, or four gallon-cans
by distillation, by which all the joints and nails of your still will be ce-
mented, and made fit for distilling your strongest-proof goods; then
damp or extinguish your fire with some wet ashes; wash your still-
head and worm; afterwards you may charge and work your still with
what goods you please.
•
All your spirits to be distilled should be proof goods, which you may
try by having a small quantity put into a glass phial, and shaking it
with your hand; if the blebs or proof of it continues a pretty while
upon the top or surface of the goods, it is then what is called proof
goods; and when it is distilled, it will yield about, or very near, two-
third parts, or every thirty gallons will distil to nearly, and sometimes
full, twenty gallons, according as the spirits are higher or lower proof;
which you may make proof, or to what strength and weakness you
please, by adding what proportion or quantity either of spring or river
water is necessary; as for example, take and observe this general rule
in distilling, that all double goods coming from the still, ciear proof and
without feints, must be made up with liquor, to that quantity you
charged your still with at first: as if with thirty gallons of proof-spirits,
it will yield about twenty gallons of high-proof goods, the deficiency
of ten gallons must be made up with water, till the whole amounts to
thirty gallons, your first charge; and in single goods you add one and
a half part more of water (viz. fifteen gallons) to what is ordered in
double goods, whereby you will have in all forty-five gallons of single
goods; but if your spirits are below proof, upon shaking the phial, or
glass, the goods will fall flat, or the blebs or proof will not continue on
the surface of it; and according to the degree of its being reduced
more or less below proof, the goods will flatten accordingly; and when
such goods are distilled, they will fall short in quantity; and upon
making them proof, and no otherwise, will you know what body they
were of, and how far they were reduced, except by the hydrometer.
1
BREWING AND DISTILLING.
717
When your still is charged with goods for distilling, and luted, then
make your fire under the still, which, if possible, must be of coals, be
cause their heat is most constant and durable, and wood fires are very
subject to both extremes, of too much or too little heat, which are pre-
Judicial, and sometimes hazardous. Let the fire at first be moderate,
and then by degrees increased, and now and then stirred up with your
poker, as is usual in common fires; and by laying your hand upon the
body of your still, as the fire gains strength in the stove or furnace un-
der the still, you will by moderate degrees ascend up your still-head,
occasioned by the goods in the still boiling higher and higher. When
your still-head becomes warm or hot, then prepare a damp (which is to
check or lessen the violence of the fire); which damp is made of about
half a bushel of ashes, taken from under the stove or furnace, and two
or three gallons of water cast upon and well mixed with them, upon the
ground or hearth, before or under your kiln-door, to be ready to cast
upon the fire when there is occasion; and move your hand upon the
still, higher and higher, as you find the heat grow hotter, and ascend
to the neck of your still-head, which, when it comes with any vehe-
mence more than a common warmth, to turn downwards towards the
worm-end, in which the arm of the still is luted, cast three or four fire-
shovels of wet ashes upon the hottest part of the fire, which must be
done very smartly and critically, at the very turning of the highest part
of the swan-like neck of your still towards the still, by which the vio-
lence of the fire is abated, which would otherwise bring down the goods
through the worm very foul in a rushing stream, which is dangerous,
and by all means to be prevented; whereas your damping the fire sea-
sonably, brings down the liquid like a small twine thread.
You must take especial care not to touch or meddle with your fire
while your still is near coming to work, because of increasing or height-
ening the heat, which would unavoidably make your still run foul; but
when your fire is damped and come to work, you may let your kiln-
door be shut close, and continue so, as long as the worm runs as small
as a moderate large turkey quill. But as the kiln-door being long shut
will overcome the damp, and bring the fire to its former violence, so
when you are apprehensive of it, you may throw open the kiln-door,
which abates the heat immediately, and lessens the stream flowing from
your worm; and you must cautiously meddle with your still-fire until
more than one or two cans be come off from your still, which is about
double the strength of the first goods, and then there is less danger, and
you may more safely stir up or mend your fire, or shut your kiln-door,
to make your goods come down with a little larger stream, until the
goods be wholly come off from the still.
When you perceive near two-third parts of the first quantity which
you put into your still to be run from thence, then be often tasting the
goods, which must run as long as any strength remains; when all the
goods are come off, the former clear colour of them will turn to a blue,
and sometimes, according to the nature of the goods, a whitish colour,
which are phlegmatic and foul, and if they were suffered to run
amongst the spirit, would make it taste disagreeably, but by being kept
by themselves, the goods are clean and well tasted; and the feints, or
after-runnings, being put and kept in a vessel until you have a quantity
together, you may then distil them. When the strength of the spirit is
gone, or run off, take away your can of goods, and let the feints run

718
BREWING AND DISTILLING,
into another can, as long as the feints will burn on the still-head, being
cast thereon, and a candle or lighted paper put to it to try the experi
ment.
When your feints are drawn into spirits, which must be made proof,
that you may make a better judgment how to convert them to other
goods, you must always make them into such goods as carry a very
predominant or prevailing gust or taste, above other ingredients; and
therefore the common and usual method taken with them is, to convert
them into aniseed or wormwood cordials, putting a little more than the
receipt of ingredients which is made use of, the same goods being
drawn from clean malt spirits, and also dulcifying a little higher than
otherwise, purposely to cleanse or carry off any ill relish contracted from
the multiplicity of mixtures in the feints.
You must always keep the water in the worm-tub very cool, that the
goods coming off the still may be perfectly so, which will contribute to
bettering the spirits, and making them settle sooner; whereas the goods
coming off warm or hot from the still, they lose considerably of their
strength, which is extracted by the hot liquor, become more palatable,
and not without much time and difficulty are made fine.
When you distil any goods which are not above one-third or one-
half of the quantity your still will work, be sure you add one, two,
or three cans of water to the goods you charge your still with, both
for better preserving the still from damage, and because the goods will
cleanse and fine themselves, by having a quantity of water with them
wrought together, and will run considerably more from the still than
when it is charged with full-proof goods; not that they can possibly
be more in strength or substance, but by their being weakened with
water put to them, are drawn lower, and require less fluid to make
them proof.
When you draw off your still more than once a day, if your second
distillation is of the same goods with the first, and the quantity of each
the same, then when your goods and feints are drawn off, damp your
fire very well under your still, draw the wash quite out, and, without
cleaning out the ingredients, you may charge it a second time with
the spirits and ingredients, and draw off your goods as at other times;
but if you charge your still a second time with the same goods, and no
greater quantity than what the goods run from what your still was first
charged with, then, when your goods are come off, and without suffer-
ing the feints to run, damp your fire, strike off your still-head, and
charge your still accordingly with your ingredients, and draw them off
as you do at other times; but if you charge your still a second time
the same day with goods different from, and of another sort than, what
your still was first charged with, then clean it of all the wash and
ingredients, scrape off all the luting on the still-head and upper part
of the body of your still, which remained or was left on the still-head;
wash down the worm with about a gallon of liquor, to prevent all ob-
structions; and draw off your goods of the second charging or distil
lation, as you do at other times; the process not differing either in draw-
ing off or making up the goods from what you do when your still is
charged with no other goods, or only one distillation made at that time
Be sure that betwixt every new charging of your still you scrape off
all the paste or luting which cleaves or is burned to the still-head, or
the brim of your still, which might endanger your new luting to crack
→

BREWING AND DISTILLING.
719

or break, was it put upon the old paste or luting; and also let your
worm be constantly washed down with a gallon of water, lest any thing
be accidentally got into the worm, which might prove of the worst con-
sequence, and must therefore be prevented or guarded against by the
greatest caution you can possibly take.
It conduces to meliorate compound spirits, when the ingredients of
which they are made are infused in spirit over-night, before they are
distilled; which spirit must cover the ingredients, and being measured,
you must allow what they measured out of the quantity you put into
your still, so that both the spirits in which the ingredients are infused,
and the other which you measure into your still, must together make
up the intended quantity; and let all your ingredients, according to
their several kinds, be bruised, sliced, or otherwise separated, before
their infusion, if you have time and opportunity.
Take particular care that no manner of grease, tallow, soap, or any
other unctuous matter, get or fall into your pieces, tubs, rundlets, or
cans; because they injure the proof of the goods, and although their
strength should be very high, yet they will apparently fall as flat as water,
and then their strength can only be ascertained by the hydrometer.
Above all things, beware of lighted candles, torches, papers, or other
combustible matter, being brought too near your still, or any vessel
where your goods are contained, which are subject to take fire upon
very slight occasions. You must take care to have your stove-chimney
and flue often swept or cleaned; both to prevent the danger of its tak-
ing fire, and to make your flue, or kiln-chimney, draw the better,
whereby your stove-fire will be first lighted, and afterwards continued,
with less trouble.

It is best, for preserving the strength and flavour of your goods, that
as they come off your still into your cans, exactly filled up to the mark
of a four or five gallon measure, they be emptied into the casks they
are to be kept in; always noting, or keeping an account of, the several
cans or quantity of goods to be put by; which must be made
-up to
their several proportions, according to the quality or kind of goods so
to be made up; which is, or must be, by adding so much liquor or
pump-water as completes the same. And in dulcifying your goods,
first weigh the sugar you intend to put in; then dissolve it in one or
more cans of the water with which you make up your goods; bruising
all the lumps of the sugar, and stirring it very well with a rummager
in your cans, till all is dissolved: and then emptying it into your other
goods; and mixing all well together, by drawing off several cans of
the goods at the cocks, and putting them in again at the bungs; and
then ruminage all well together, till they are perfectly well mixed and
compounded.
When you have made up your goods to the quantity and quality you
intend, that they may become fine and clear; all your goods which are
made proof will without any art or composition settle, and become fine
and clear, within one or two days at most; but goods that are reduced
below proof, the weaker they are made in strength, the longer they are
in becoming fine or saleable. To every hogshead of Geneva, or strong
waters, put five or six ounces of alum powdered so as to go through a
coarse hair-sieve, and mixed in three or four gallons of the goods, well
stirred or dissolved in your cans; and then put to your whole quantity.
rummaged and very well stirred together, some cans of goods being
·
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BREWING AND DISTILLING
drawn off, and put to the goods again, to mix them the better; and the
Geneva will be clear in one day, and the other in two or three days.
When your distilled goods are finished, being set upon a stillyon or
pair of guntrees, in order to their being drawn off, you must let the
bungs of the casks continue open, till they become fine and fit for use:
then you may put the bungs in, but not too hard, and set a foreset or a
plughole, and a foreset or plug put slightly, in a proper place of your
casks, to take out or loosen, to give vent when you draw off any goods:
it is a vulgar error to suppose that goods are materially injured or
weakened by the bungs being left open: for where there is any quantity
of goods of any tolerable body or strength, they receive no manner of
injury from it, but mellow and clear more and more by having good
vent either by bung or foreset.
You may make any goods deeper or lighter coloured, by dulcifying
with browner or finer sugar. And as all common goods bear a low
price, they are always sweetened with the cheapest brown sugars, which
commonly make them of a deep amber colour; which by long custom
and usage has so prevailed with the populace, that goods of a lighter
colour, occasioned by being dulcified with better sugar, are less account-
ed of; whereas fine goods, which are generally drunk by persons of
judgment and distinguishing palates, must be made up with fine sugars;
and the clearer and lighter colour they are, the more acceptable and va-
luable to those who know what they buy ; and some persons are so nice
this way, as to dulcify with loaf-sugar; but the sugars in your receipts
specified are what will give a general satisfaction to all your customers.
When you first draw off any goods lately distilled, that which lies
next the cork will not be clear, or left fine, according as the goods have
been a longer or shorter time distilled; and must be set aside till you
have drawn off what fine goods you have present occasion for; and
then you may put what you first drew in at the bung, and it will settle
in a very little time; and when any of your standard or other casks are
near out, or to be emptied or drawn off, let all the bottoms be drawn
into one of your cans, and first put one, two, or three gallons of water,
according to the size of your cask, to wash out the cask; and let your
first water with which the cask is washed be put among your feints;
and what water you wash clean out with must be cast away; then take
your can of bottoms, and first hanging up your flannel sleeve in some
convenient place, put your bottoms into it all at once, if your bag will
hold it. The first runnings of the bag will be foul, till all the porous
parts of the bag are filled up with the sediment that is amongst the bot-
toms of the casks; and when they run fine, you may take away the
foul goods, and put a clean vessel to receive the fine spirits; and when
the bag is run nearly out, you may put in it what goods first run foul
when the bottoms were put into the bag, and let the bag hang till all
the goods be quite run off from the sediment, which must then be cast
away, but the fine goods, so filtred through the flannel sleeve, will be
as good and wholesome as any of the rest; and the bottoms of fine goods,
which are much more valuable, must be filtred, or put through blotting-
paper, folded in four parts, one part or leaf to be opened funnelwise,
and made capable to receive what it will hold of the bottoms being put
into the upper part of a large tin funnel: which will filtre off all the
goods from the sediment.
When you are to buy any brandies or spirits, do not consent to take

BREWING AND DISTILLING.
T
721
them by measure; but having tasted and tried them in a phial, insist
upon having them by weight, at seven pounds three quarters to each
gallon, and the stronger spirits will be lighter than what is reduced.
It may not be here improper to insert some certain rules observed
by distillers in drawing off and making up their distilled goods: viz.
when you perceive about two-third parts of the first quantity you
put into your still is come off, then be often trying your goods in a
glass or phial; and when you see that the bell, or proof, immediately
falls down and does not continue a good while on the surface, then
take away the can of goods, and substitute another vessel to receive
the feints; which, if suffered to run among the goods, would cause a
disagreeable relish, and be longer in fining down: whereas the feints
being kept separate, the goods will be clean and well tasted, when made
up with liquor to their due quantity.
It will much improve your goods, to throw into your still along with
your goods, when first charged, about six ounces of bay salt to every
ten gallons of spirit; and so proportionably, more or less, to a greater
or less quantity of spirits; by this means the goods will better cleanse
themselves and separate from their phlegmatic parts, and the spirits so
dephlegmated will ascend and come over much cleaner and finer in
distillation.
盘
​One very great desideratum among distillers of this country is, a
method of imitating the foreign spirits, Brandy, rum, gin, &c. to a
tolerable degree of perfection; and notwithstanding the many attempts
that are daily made for this purpose, the success in general has been
but very indifferent. The general method of distilling brandies in
France differs in nothing from that practised here in working from
malt-wash or molasses; nor are they in the least more cleanly or exact
in the operation. They only observe more particularly to throw a lit-
tle of the natural ley into the still along with the wine, as finding this
gives their spirit the flavour for which it is generally admired abroad.
But though brandy is extracted from wine, experience tells us, that.
there is a great difference in the grapes from which the wine is made.
Every soil, every climate, every kind of grapes, varies with regard to
the quantity and quality of the spirit extracted from them. A large
quantity of brandy is distilled in France during the time of the vintage;
ga-
for all those poor grapes that prove unfit for wine, are usually first
thered, pressed, their juice fermented, and directly distilled. This rids
them of their poor wines at once, and leaves their casks empty for the
reception of better. It is a general rule with them not to distil wine
that will fetch any price as wine; for in this state the profits obtained
are vastly greater than when reduced to brandies. The large stock of
small wines, with which they are almost over-run in France, sufficiently
accounts for their making such vast quantities of brandy in that country
more than in others which lie in warmer climates, and are much better
Nor is this the only source of
adapted to the production of grapes.
their brandies; for all the wine that turns eager is also condemned to
the still. and, in short, all that they can neither export nor consume at
home, which amounts to a large quantity; since much of the wine laid
in for their family provision is so poor as not to keep during the time
of drawing from the cask. Hence our English spirits, with proper
management, are convertible into brandies that shall hardly be distin-
4Z
1





$792
-BREWING AND DISTILLİNG.
!
guished from the foreign in many respects, provided the operation is
neatly performed.
·
The best, and indeed the only method of imitating French brandies
to perfection, is by an essential oil of wine; this being the very thing
that gives the French brandies their flavour. It must, however, be
remembered, that in order to use even this ingredient to advantage, a
pure tasteless spirit must first be procured; for it is ridiculous to expect
that this essential oil should be able to give the agreeable flavour of
French brandies to our malt spirit, already loaded with its own oil, or
strongly impregnated with a lixivious taste from the alkaline salts used
in rectification.
To
prepare the oil of wine, take some cakes of dry wine-lees, such
as are used by our hatters, dissolve them in 6 or 8 times their weight
of water, distil the liquor with a slow fire, and separate the oil with a
separating glass, reserving for only the nicest uses that which comes
over first, the succeeding oil being coarser and more resinous. Having
procured this fine oil of wine, it may be dissolved in alcohol; by which
means it may be preserved a long time fully possessed of all its flavour,
but otherwise it will soon grow rancid.
With a fine essential oil of wine thus procured, and a pure and in-
sipid spirit, French brandies may be imitated to perfection. The eș-
sential oil, however, must be drawn from the same kind of lees as the
brandy to be imitated was procured from: e. g. in order to imitate Co-
niac brandy, it will be necessary to distil the essential oil from Coniac
lees; and the same for any other kind of brandy. For as différent
brandies have different flavours, and as these flavours are entirely ow-
ing to the essential oil of the grape, it would be preposterous to en-
deavour to imitate the flavour of Coniac brandy with an essential oil
procured from the lees of Bourdeaux wine. When the flavour of the
brandy is well imitated by a proper dose of the essential oil, and the
whole reduced into one simple and homogeneous fluid, other difficulties
are still behind: the flavour, though the essential part, is not, how-
ever, the only one; the colour, the proof, and the softness, must also
be regarded, before a spirit that perfectly resembles brandy can be pro-
cured. With regard to the proof, it may be easily accomplished, by
using a spirit rectified above proof; which, after being intimately
mixed with the essential oil of wine, may be let down to a proper
standard with fair water: and the softness may, in a great measure,
be obtained by distilling and rectifying the spirit with a gentle fire;
and what is wanting of this criterion in the liquor when first made,
will be supplied by time: for it must be remembered, that it is time
alone that gives this property to French brandies, they being at first
acrid, foul, and fiery. But with regard to the colour, a particular me-
thod is required to imitate it to perfection, which may be effected by
means of treacle or burnt sugar. The treacle gives the spirit a fine
colour, nearly resembling that of French brandy; but as its colour is
dilute, a large quantity must be used. This is not, however, attend-
ed with any bad consequences; for notwithstanding the spirit is real-
ly weakened by this addition, yet the bubble-proof, the general criterion
of spirits, is greatly mended by the tenacity imparted to the liquor by
the treacle. The spirit also acquires from the mixture a sweetish or
luscious taste, and a fulness in the mouth; both which properties ren-
der it very agreeable to some palates. A much smaller quantity of
氟
​
{
1
BREWING AND DISTILLING.
נייר
1
..
burnt sugar than of treacle will be sufficient for colouring the same
quantity of spirits: the taste is also very different; for, instead of the
sweetness imparted by the treacle, the spirit acquires from the burnt
sugar an agreeable bitterness, and by that means recommends itself to
many who are offended with a luscious spirit. The burnt sugar is pre-
pared by dissolving a proper quantity of sugar in a little water, and
scorching it over the fire till it acquires a black colour. Either treacle
or burnt sugar will nearly imitate the genuine colour of old French
brandy; but neither of them will succeed when put to the test of the
vitriolic solution.
→
The spirit distilled from molasses or treacle is very pure. It is made
from common treacle dissolved in water, and fermented in the same
manner as the wash for the common malt spirit. But if some particu-
lar art is not used in distilling this spirit, it will not prove so vinous as
malt spirit, but more flat and less pungent and acid, though otherwise
much cleaner-tasted, as its essential oil is of a much less offensive fla-
your. Therefore, if good fresh wine-lees, abounding in tartar, are
well fermented with molasses, the spirit will acquire a much greater
vinosity and briskness, and approach much nearer to the nature of
foreign spirits. Where the molasses spirit is brought to the common
proof-strength, if it is found not to have a sufficient vinosity, it will be
very proper to add some dulcified spirit of nitre; and if the spirit is
clean worked, it may, by this addition only, be made to pass on ordi-
nary judges for French brandy. Great quantities of this spirit are used
in adulterating foreign brandy, rum, and arrack. Much of it is also
used alone in making cherry-brandy and other cordials by infusion; in
all which, many, and perhaps with justice, prefer it to foreign brandies.
Molasses, like all other spirits, is entirely colourless when first extract-
ed; but distillers always give it as nearly as possible the colour of
foreign spirits.
If these principles hold good, the imitation of foreign spirits of all
kinds must be practicable; if we only procure some of those substances
from which the spirit is drawn, and distil it with water, the essential
oil will always give the flavour desired. Thus to imitate Jamaica rum,
it will only be necessary to procure some of the tops, or other useless
parts, of the sugar-canes, from which an essential oil being drawn, and
mixed with clean molasses spirit, will give it the true flavour. The
principal difficulty must lie in procuring a spirit totally, or nearly, free
from all flavour of its own. The spirit drawn from the refuse of a su-
gar-house has been commended as superior to that drawn from molas-
ses; though it is very probable, that to procure an absolutely flavour-
less spirit is impossible. The only method, therefore, of imitating
foreign spirits is, by choosing such materials as will yield a spirit fla-
voured as much like them as possible; and the materials most recom-
mended, and probably the best that can be used, are raisins.
•
A

姉
​We shall subjoin the genuine process of preparing Holland gin,
agreeably to the practice of the best Dutch distillers. Their grist is
composed of ten quarters of malt, ground considerably finer than our
malt-distillers barley-grist, and three quarters of rye-meal; or, more
frequently, of ten quarters of rye and three quarters of malt meal. The
ten quarters are first mashed with the least quantity of cold water it is
possible to blend it up with; when uniformly incorporated, as much
boiling water is added as forms it into a thin batter; it is then put into,
$



1
724
BREWING AND DISTILLING

one, two, or more casks, or gyle-tuns, with a much less quantity of
yeast than is usually employed by our distillers. Generally on the.
third day they add the malt or rye meal, previously made into a kind
of lob, prepared in a similar manner, except in not being so diluted;
but not before it comes to the temperature of the fermenting wash; at
the same time adding full as much yeast as when at first setting the
backs.
The principal secret in the management of the mashing part of the
business is, in first thoroughly mixing the malt with the cold water,
and in subsequently adding the due proportion of boiling water, that
it may still remain sufficiently diluted after the addition of the fine meal,
under the form of lob, and in well rousing all together in the back,
that the wash may yet be dilute enough for distilling, without endan-
gering its burning to the bottom of the still. Thus they commodiously
reduce the business of brewing and fermenting to one operation. By
using cold water to uniformly wet the malt, all danger of clogging the
spending of the tap would be necessarily avoided; but here is no occa-
sion to do any thing more than sufficiently dilute the wash, consisting
of the whole of the grain, thin enough to be fermented and distilled
together, by which means the spirit of the bran and husky part, as well
as of the flour of the grain, are completely extracted, yet their wash,
compared with ours, is about three-eighths thinner. For these reasons,
they obtain more spirit from their grain than we do, and of a better
quality, with not half the trouble taken by our distillers. The gravity
of the distillers' wash at Weesoppe, in the neighbourhood of Amster-
dam, in 1774, was but eighteen pounds per barrel, very little more
than half the gravity of ours. Their stills are usually from three to
five hundred gallons each; they constantly draw off three cans of
phlegm, after the runnings cease to burn on the head of the still,
when distilling wash; and five cans when distilling low wines; a prac-
tice we are unacquainted with, as we usually draw our fire as soon
as the runnings from the still burn languidly on the still-head. This,
and the great quantity of rye they use, cause their spirit to be so
much more acid; and the diluteness of their wash is a very good
reason for the greater purity of their spirit; though most writers
mistakingly say, our spirit is much cleaner.
Rectification into Holland Gin.-To every twenty gallons of spirit
of the second extraction, about the strength of proof spirit, take three
pounds of juniper-berries, and two ounces of oil of juniper, and distil
with a slow fire until the feints begin to rise, then change the receiving
can; this produces the best Rotterdam gin. An inferior kind is made
with a still less proportion of berries, sweet fennel-seeds, and Strasburgh
turpentine, without a drop of juniper-oil. It, and a better sort, but
inferior to the Rotterdam gin, are made at Weesoppe. The distillers
wash at Scheedam and Rotterdam is still lighter than at Weesoppe,
where there were about three hundred distillers formerly in 1774.

Receipt for 140 Gallons of Gin made without Distillation.
Take 100 gallons of proof malt spirits, rectified by agitation; infuse
two pounds and an half of the best juniper-berries for a week or ten
days; then take of oil of turpentine, three ounces; oil of juniper berries,
five ounces; oil of sweet fennel-seeds, two ounces; fill these essential
oils with some dry loaf sugar, and dissolve them in three pints of spirit
+





1
+
BREWING AND DISTILLING
726
of wine that will fire gunpowder: add them to the 100 gallons of spirits
and juniper-berries, rousing them well up for an hour; next day make
up to one in five, with lime water, and sweeten with a quarter of an
hundred of clayed sugar. Fine with eight or ten ounces of alum dis-
solved in two or three gallons of the making-up water reserved for the
purpose. These ingredients will make 140 gallons of as good English
gin, as any usually made by distillation.
Preparation of Rum in the West Indies.
In the still-house, as well as the boiling-house, the greatest cleanli-
ness is necessary: the vats, at the beginning of the crop, ought to be
well washed out, both with warm and cold water, to divest them of
any sour stuff which may have accumulated or adhered to their bottoms
and sides since they were last in use; and if every vat, just before the
first setting, or mixing the liquor in it, were to be rinsed with a little
rum, I can venture to say, the distiller would be amply repaid for this
trifling expense and trouble.
In setting the first round of liquor, a greater proportion of skimming
from the sugar-pans must be used than will afterwards be necessary, as
the distiller has no good lees, and very little molasses to add to the
mass; and besides, the skimmings at this time are not so rich as they
will be some time hence; that is, in March, April, and May, which
are esteemed the best yielding months. The following proportions will
succeed well in the beginning: for every one hundred gallons your
vat contains, put forty-five gallons of skimmings, and five gallons of
molasses, to fifty gallons of water.
When you have got good lees, or returns, as they are commonly
called, mix equal quantities of skimmings, lees, and water, and for
every one hundred gallons add ten gallons of molasses.
When the mill is going, and therefore you have no skimmings, mix
equal parts of lees and water, and for every hundred gallons add twen-
ty gallons of molasses.
From liquor set in these proportions, the distiller may expect to ob-
tain from ten to fifteen per cent. of leeward islands proof rum, and
twice as much low-wines. But the quantity of spirit will depend greatly
on the quality of the ingredients, and in some measure on the weather;
therefore an intelligent distiller will vary his proportions accordingly.

1
The Distillation of Rum in the West Indies.
1
Rum differs from what we simply call sugar spirit, as it contains
more of the natural flavour, or essential oil, of the sugar-cane; a great
f,
deal of raw juice, and even parts of the cane itself being often ferment-
ed in the liquor, or solution, of which the rum is prepared.
From hence it is generally thought, that the rum derives its flavour
from the cane itself.
Some, indeed, are of opinion, that the oily flavour of the rum pro-
ceeds from the large quantity of fat used in boiling the sugar.
This fat, indeed, if coarse, will give a rancid flavour to the spirit in
our distillations of the sugar liquor, or wash, from our refining sugar-
houses at home; but this is nothing like the flavour of rum.
Great quantities of rum are made at Jamaica, Barbadoes, Antigua,
and other sugar islands. The method of making it is this:
When a sufficient stock of materials is got together, they add water
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1
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726
BREWING AND DISTILLING.
to them, and ferment them in the common method, though the fer-
mentation is always carried on very slowly at first; because at the be-
ginning of the season for making rum in the islands, they want yeast,
to make it work; but after this, they, by degrees, procure a sufficient
quantity of the ferment, which arises up as a head to the liquor in the
operation; and thus they are able afterwards to ferment, and make
their rum with a great deal of expedition, and in very large quantities.
When the wash is fully fermented, or to a due degree of acidity,
the distillation is carried on in the common way, and the spirit is made
up proof, though sometimes it is reduced to a much greater degree of
strength, nearly approaching to that of alkohol, or spirits of wine; and.
it is then called double distilled rum.

带
​It would be easy to rectify the spirit, and bring it to a much greater
degree of purity than we usually find it to be of, if it did not bring over
in the distillation so large a quantity of the gross oil, which is often so
disagreeable, that the rum must be suffered to lie by a long time to mel-
low before it can be used; whereas, if well rectified, its flavour would
be much less, and consequently much more agreeable to the palate.
The best state to keep rum, both for exportation and other uses, is
doubtless in that of alkohol, or rectified spirits. In this manner, it
would be contained in half the bulk it usually is, and might be let down.
to the common proof strength with water when necessary.
✓
+
Sugar Spirit.
We mean, by a sugar spirit, that extracted from the washings, skim-
mings, dross, and waste of the boiling-house. These drossy parts of
the sugar are to be diluted with water, fermented in the same manner
as molasses or wash, and then distilled in the common method. And
if the operation be carefully performed, and the spirit well. rectified, it
may be mixed with foreign brandies, and even coniac, in a large pro-
portion, to great advantage; for this spirit will be found superior to
that extracted from treacle, and consequently more proper for these
uses. In Barbadoes a very good spirit of this kind is prepared from
the cane juice, called cane spirit, resembling very pure rum.
་
Raisin Spirits,
By raisin spirit, we understand that extracted from raisins, after a
proper fermentation,
In order to extract this spirit, the raisins must be infused in a proper
quantity of water, and fermented.
When the fermentation is completed, the whole is to be thrown into
the still, and spirits extracted by a strong fire.
The reason why we here direct a strong fire is, because by that means
a greater quantity of the essential oil will come over the helm with the
spirit, which will render it much fitter for the distiller's purpose; for
this spirit is generally used to mix with common malt goods: and it is
surprising how far it will go in this respect, ten gallons of it being of-
ten sufficient to give a determining flavour, and agreeable vinosity, to a
whole piece of malt spirit.
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In the same manner a spirit may be obtained from cyder. But its
particular flavour is not so desirable as that obtained from raisins,
BREWING AND DISTILLING?
727
£
To improve the Flavour of Malt Spirits.
·' The flavour, of malt spirits is said to be highly improved, by putting
three ounces and a half of finely powdered charcoal, and four ounces
and a half of ground rice, into a quart of spirits, and letting it stand du-
ring fifteen days, frequently stirring it; then let the liquor be strained,
and it will be found nearly of the same flavour as brandy.

13
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Expeditious Method of distilling simple Waters.
}
•
Tie a piece of muslin, or gauze, over a glazed earthen pot, whose
mouth is just large enough to receive the bottom of a warming-pan; on
this cloth lay your herb, clipped, whether mint, lavender, or whatever
else you please; then place upon them the hot warming-pan, with live
coals in it, to cause heat just enough to prevent burning, by which
means, as the steam issuing out of the herb cannot mount upwards, by
reason of the bottom of the pan just fitting the brim of the vessel below
it, it must necessarily descend, and collect into water at the bottom of
the receiver, and that strongly impregnated with the essential oil and
salt of the vegetable thus distilled; which, if you want to make spiritu-
ous or compound water of, is easily done, by simply adding some good
spirits, or French brandy to it, which will keep good for a long time,
and be much better than if the spirits had passed through a still, which
must of necessity waste some of their strength. Care should be taken
not to let the fire be too strong, lest it scorch the plants; and to be made
of charcoal, for continuance and better regulation, which must be ma-
naged by lifting up and laying down the lid, as you want to increase or
decrease the degrees of heat, The deeper the earthen pan, the cooler
the season; and the less fire at first (afterwards to be gradually raised),
in the greater perfection will the distilled water be obtained.
-
As the more moveable, or volatile parts of vegetables, are the aque-
ous, the oily, the gummy, the resinous, and the saline, these are to be
expected in the waters of this process; the heat here employed being
so great as to burst the vessels of the plants, some of which contain so
large a quantity of oil, that it may be seen swimming on the surface of
the water.
}


Medical waters thus procured will afford us nearly all the native vir-
tues of vegetables, and give us a mixture of their several principles,
whence they in a manner come up to the expressed juice or extract
gained therefrom; and if brandy be at the same time added to these
distilled waters, so strong of oil and salt, a compound, or spirituous wa-
ter, may be likewise procured at a cheap and easy rate...
Although a small quantity only of distilled water can be obtained at
a time by this confined operation, yet it compensates in strength what
is deficient in quantity.
*
Such liquors, if well corked up from the air, will keep good a long
time, especially if about a twentieth part of any spirits be added, in or-
der to preserve the same more effectually.
Though British wines, &c. do not require the regular process of dis-
tillation, yet they are connected so materially with the other operations
of the distiller as to demand our notice.
{
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PHEWING AND DISTILLING.
Korttage hand-gohar qures.
To make Gooseberry Wine.
Of gooeeberries may be made a curious cooling wine, after the fol-
lowing directions :

Take gooseberries just beginning to turn ripe, not those that are quite
ripe; bruise them as well as you did the grapes, but not so as to break
their stones: then pour to every eight pounds of pulp a gallon of clear
spring-water, or rather their own distilled water, made in a cold still,
and let them stand in the vessel covered, in a cool place, twenty-four
hours; then put them into a strong canvass or hair bag, and press out
all the juice that will run from them, and to every quart of it put twelve
ounces of loaf or other fine sugar, stirring it till it be thoroughly melt-
ed; then put it up into a well-seasoned cask, and set it in a cool place;
when it has purged and settled about twenty or thirty days, fill the ves-
sel full and bung it down close, that as little air as possible may come
at it.
When it is well wrought and settled, then is your time to draw it off
into smaller casks or bottles, keeping them in cool places, for there is
nothing damages any sort of wines more than heat.
Another Method of Making Gooseberry Wine.
When the weather is dry, gather your gooseberries about the time
they are half ripe; pick them clean, and put the quantity of a peck in
a convenient vessel, and bruise them with a piece of wood, taking as
much care as possible to keep the seeds whole. When you have done
this, put the pulp into a canvass or hair bag, and press out all the juice;
and to every gallon of the gooseberries add about three pounds of fine
loaf sugar; mix it all together by stirring it with a stick, and as soon
as the sugar is quite dissolved, pour it into a convenient cask, that will
hold it exactly; and according to the quantity let it stand, viz. if about
eight or nine gallons, it will take a fortnight; if twenty gallons, forty
days, and so in proportion; taking care the place you set it in be cool.
After standing the proper time, draw it off from the lees, and put it in-
to another sweet vessel of equal size, or into the same, after pouring the
lees out, and making it clean; let a cask of ten or twelve gallons stand
about three months, and twenty gallons five months, after which it will
be fit for bottling off.


This is a curious cooling drink, taken with great success in all hot
diseases, as fevers, small-pox, the hot fit of the ague; it stops laxation,
is good in the bloody-flux, cools the heat of the liver and stomach, stops
bleeding, and mitigates inflammations; it wonderfully abates flushings
and redness of the face, after hard drinking, or the like; provokes urine,
and is good against the stone; but those that are of a very phlegmatic
constitution should not make use of it.

T
To make Currant Wine.
Take four gallons of curious cooling spring or conduit water, let it
gently simmer over a moderate fire, scum it well, and stir into it eight
pounds of the best virgin honey; when that is thoroughly dissolved,
take off the water, and stir it well about, to raise the scum, which take
clean off, and cool.
When it is thus prepared, press out the like quantity of juice of red
currants moderately ripe, without any green ones among them, which
BREWING AND DISTILLING.
729
being well strained, mix it well with the water and honey, then put
them up in a cask, or large earthen vessel, and let them stand upon the
ferment twenty-four hours; then to every gallon add two pounds of
loaf or other fine sugar, stir them well to raise the scum, and, when
well settled, take it off, and add half an ounce of cream of tartar, with
a little fine flour, and the whites of two or three eggs, which will refine
it; and when it is well settled and clear, draw it off into a small vessel,
or bottle it up, keeping it in a cool place.
Of white currants, a wine after the same manner may be made that
will equal in strength and pleasantness many sorts of white wine; but
as for the black, or Dutch currants, I approve not of them but in medi
cinal wines, of which I shall have some occasion to speak hereafter.
Another way of Making Currant Wine.
After gathering your currants, which you must do when the weather
is dry, and they are full ripe, strip them carefully from the stalk, so
as not to bruise them with your fingers; put them into a pan, and bruise
them with a convenient wooden pestle; then let it stand about twenty
hours (according to the quantity) after which strain it through a sieve.
Add three pounds of fine powder sugar to every four quarts of the li-
quor, and then shaking or stirring it well, fill your vessel, and put about
a quart of good brandy to every six or seven gallons. As soon as it is
fine, which will be in four or five weeks, you must bottle it off. If it
should not prove quite clear, draw it off into another vessel, and let it
stand about ten days, and then bottle it off.
!
+
To make excellent Punch. ·
* One tea-spoonful of Coxwell's acid salt of lemons, a quarter of a
pound of sugar, a quart of water nearly boiling, half a pint of rum, and
a quarter of a pint of brandy; a little lemon peel may be added, or in
place thereof, a few drops of essence of lemon.
To make a pleasant, sober, and refreshing Drink for the Summer.
Take one bottle of sherry (but Maderia is preferable), two bottles of
cyder, one of perry, and one gill of brandy; and after those ingredients
are mixed, take two lemons, pare the rind as thin as possible; then slice
the lemons, and put the rind and lemons into a cup; to these add a lit-
tle grated nutmeg and powdered sugar, to make it palatable; stir them
together; then toast a biscuit very brown, and throw it hot into the li-
quor. It is generally found a pleasant draught at dinner, and produces
no bad effects on those who drink it in moderation,
To make the German Liquor, Mum.
Mum is made of various sorts of grain, in the following proportions
to seven bushels of wheaten malt, add one bushel of oatmeal, one bushel
of ground beans, and a variety of other articles, as the tops of fir, wild
thyme, &c. also ten new laid eggs. These articles ought to be infused
in sixty-three gallons of water boiled down to forty-one.
J
譬
​To make the celebrated Eastern Beverage called Sherbet.
This liquor is a species of negus without the wine. It consists of wa
ter, lemon or orange juice, and sugar, in which are dissolved perfumed
cakes, made of the best Damascus fruit, and containing also an infusion
"
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5 A
780
BREWING AND DISTILLING. :
ITA
of some drops of rose-water: another kind is made of violets, honey,
juice of raisins, &c. It is well calculated for assuaging thirst, as the
acidity is agreeably blended with sweetness. It resembles, indeed,
those fruits which we find so grateful when one is thirsty.
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​:
To make Birch-tree Wine.
The vernal sap of the birch-tree is made into wine. In the beginning
of March, while the sap is rising, holes must be bored in the body of
the tree, and fassets, made of elder, placed in them, to convey away the
liquid. If the tree be large it may be tapped in several places at a time,
and thus, according to the number of trees, the quantity of liquid is ob-
tained. The sap is to be boiled with sugar, in the proportion of four
pounds to a gallon, and treated in the same manner as other made
wines.
i.
One great advantage attaching to the birch is, that it will grow on al-
most any barren ground.
Another Mode for Currant Wine.
Gather your currants on a fine dry day, when the fruit is full ripe,
steep them; put them in a large pan, and bruise them with a wooden
pestle; let them stand in a pan or tub twenty-four hours to ferment,
then run it through a hair sieve, and do not let your hand touch the li
quor; to every gallon of this liquor put two pounds and a half of white
sugar, stir it well together, and put it into your vessel. To every six
gallons put in a quart of brandy, and let it stand six weeks; if it is fine,
bottle it; if it is not, draw it off as clear as you can into another vessel,
or large bottles, and in a fortnight bottle it into smaller bottles..
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Elder Wine.
Pick the elder-berries when full ripe; put them into a stone jar, and
set them in the oven, or a kettle of boiling water, till the jar is hot
through; then take them out and strain them through a coarse cloth,
wringing the berries, and put the juices into a clean kettle; to every
quart of juice put a pound of fine Lisbon sugar; let it boil, and skim it
well; when it is clear and fine, pour it into a jar; when cold, cover it
close, and keep it till you make raisin wine; and to every gallon of
wine put half a pint of elder syrup.

•
Grape Wine.
To every gallon of ripe grapes put a gallon of soft water, bruise the
grapes, let them stand a week without stirring, and draw the liquor off
fine; to every gallon of wine put three pounds of lump sugar; put it
into a vessel, but do not stop it till it has done hissing, then stop it close,
and in six months it will be fit to bottle.


!
A better wine, though smaller in quantity, will be made by leaving
out the water, and diminishing the quantity of sugar. Water is only
necessary where the juice is so scanty or so thick, as in cowslip, balm,
or black currant wine, that it could not be used without it. Very good
wine, after keeping for twelve months, has been made by adding a pro-
per quantity of sugar to grapes which were so hard that it was necessary
to burst them over the fire to get out the juice.
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BREWING AND DISTILLING.
781
1
1
An Excellent Family Wine.
May be made of equal parts of red, white, and black currants, ripe
cherries, and raspberries, well bruised, and mixed with soft water, in
the proportion of four pounds of fruit to one gallon of water. When
strained and pressed, three pounds of moist sugar are to be added to each
gallon of liquid. After standing open three days, during which it is to
be stirred frequently, and scum it as it may require, it is to be put into
a barrel, and left for a fortnight to work, when a ninth part of brandy is
to be added, and the whole bunged down; and in two or three years it
will be rich and valuable.

To extract Syrup from Indian Corn.
The young spikes, when they are beginning to form, possess a very
agreeable saccharine taste. Ten pounds of them squeezed in a stone
mortar, and the juice expressed, after the leaves are stripped off, will
give about four pounds of a milky juice, which, when clarified, and eva-
porated to the consistence of a syrup, will be found very agreeable to the
palate. This vegetable will grow in England from the seed, sown in
good soil.
Excellent Bitter for the Stomach.
One ounce of gentian root sliced, one ounce of fresh rind of lemon,
two drachms of cardamom, seeds bruised, three drachms of Seville orange
peel; pour a pint and a half of boiling water over the ingredients, let it
stand an hour, then decant the clear liquor, and take a wine glass full
two or three times a day.
It should be kept closely covered after the water is put in the ingre-
dient's.
To detect Sugar of Lead in Wines.
The tincture of orpiment converts wine so adulterated to a black
colour,
#
A Test for discovering in Wine, Metals that are injurious to the Health.
The property of liver of sulphur, and of hepatic gas, in precipitating
lead of a black colour, has been long known; and that property has
been, made use of to ascertain the goodness of wine, in the preparation
of the liquor probatorius Wurtembergiensis.
But in trying wines which we suspect to be adulterated, that proof
does more harm than good; because it precipitates the iron of the same
colour with the pernicious lead; by which means, some dealers of re-
spectable characters have been ruined.
It was wanting, therefore, to find an agent which would discover no-
thing in wine but what was prejudicial to health. This is accomplish-
ed by the following test, which precipitates lead and copper of a black
colour, arsenic of an orange colour, but does not iron, which being in-
nocent, or rather salutary, to the human constitution, gets into a great
number of different sorts of wine by various accidents.
Receipt for the test liquor.-Mix equal parts of oyster shells, and crude
sulphur reduced to a fine powder, and put the mixture în a crucible.
Heat this in a wind furnace, and suddenly raise the heat till the cruci
I
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BREWING AND DISTILLING.
732
F
ble is exposed to a white heat for fifteen minutes. When the mass is
cool, reduce it to powder, and keep it in a bottle well corked.
To make the liquor, put 120 grains of this powder and 180 grains of
cream of tartar into a strong bottle full of common water, which has
been boiled for an hour, and suffered to cool. Cork the bottle immedi-
ately, and shake it from time to time. After having stood a few hours,
pour off what is clear of the liquor into ounce phials, after having pre-
viously put into each of them twenty drops of spirit of sea salt; and
then stop them well with wax mixed with a little turpentine.
One part of this liquor, mixed with three parts of wine adulterated,
will discover, by a very sensible black precipitate, the smallest quantity
of lead, copper, &c. but will have no effect on any iron it may contain.
When the precipitation is made, iron may be discovered by saturating
the wine remaining, when poured off, with a little salt of tartar, when
the liquor becomes instantly black.
Pure wines remain perfectly clear after the addition of this liquor.
To make Raisin Wine.
To two hundred weight of raisins put about forty-four gallons of wa
ter, wine measure, stir it up well, three or four times a day; let it stand
about three weeks, then take it off the raisins, and tun it up; when you
put it into the cask, add about two quarts of brandy to it, which will
keep it from fretting.
·
Let it stand about ten or twelve months, then draw it off from the
lees; rince your cask, and put it in again; then fine it down with three
ounces of isinglass, and a quarter of a pound of sugar-candy, dissolved
in some of the wine. There are many ways used to retrieve this wine,
if it should chance to turn sour, which seldom happens if properly
made; in this case, the most successful method is to replenish it with a
further addition of raisins.
1
Another Method of making Raisin Wine.
Put two hundred weight of raisins, with the stalks, into a hogshead,
and fill it almost with spring water; let it steep about twelve days, fre-
quently stirring them about, and after pouring the juice off, dress the
raisins. The liquor should then be put together in a very clean vessel
that will exactly contain it. You will find 'it hiss or sing for some
time, during which it should not be stirred; but, when the noise ceases,
it must be stopped close, and stand for about six or seven months; 'and
then, if you peg it, and it proves fine and clear, rack it off into another
vessel of the same size; stop it up, and let it remain twelve or fourteen
weeks longer; then bottle it off. The best way, when you use it, is to
take a decanter and rack it off.
To make Wines of Blackberries, Strawberries, or Dewberries.
Take of these berries, in their proper season, moderately ripe, what
quantity you please; press them as other berries; boil up water and ho→
ney, or water and fine sugar, as your palate best relishes, to a consider-
able sweetness; and when it is well scummed, put the juice in and let
it simmer to incorporate it well with the water; and when it is done so,
take it off, let it cool, scum it again, and put it up in a barrel, or rather
a close-glazed earthen vessel, to ferment and settle; to every gallon put
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BREWING AND DISTILLING.
783
half a pint of Malaga, draw it off as clear as possible; bottle it up, and
keep it cool for use.
To make Wine of Apples and Pears.
As for apples, make them first into good cider, by beating and press
ing, and other orderings, as I shall direct, when I come to treat of those
sort of liquors, after I have ended this of wines; and to good cider,
when you have procured it, put the herb scurlea, the quintessence of
wine, and a little fixed nitre, and to a barrel of this cider à pound of the
syrup of honey; let it work and ferment at spurge-holes in the cask
ten days, or till you find it clear and well settled, then draw it off, and
it will not be much inferior to Rhenish in clearness, colour, and taste.
To make wine of pears, procure the tartest perry, but by no means
that which is tart by souring, or given that way, but such as is na-
turally so; put into a barrel about five ounces of the juice of the herb
clary, and the quintessence of wine, and to every barrel a pound, or
pint of the syrup of blackberries, and, after fermentation and refining,
it will be of a curious wine taste, like sherry, and not well distinguish-
able but by such as have very good palates, or those who deal in it.
To make Wine of Cherries.
Take cherries, indifferently ripe, of any red sort, clear them of the
stalks and stones; and then put them into an earthen glazed pan vessel,
and with your clean hands squeeze them to a pulp; or you may do it
with a wooden ladle, or presser, and so let them continue twelve hours
to ferment; then put them into a linen cloth, not too fine, and press
out the juice with a pressing-board, or any other conveniency; then
let the liquor stand till the scum arise, and with your ladle take it clean
off; then pour out the clearer part, by inclination, into a cask, where to
each gallon put a pound of the best loaf-sugar, and let it ferment and
purge seven or eight days; draw it off, when you find it clear, into less-
er casks, or bottles; keep it cool, as other wines, and in ten or twelve
days it will be ripe.
To make Wine of Peaches and Apricots.
Take peaches, nectarines, &c. when they are full of juice, pare them,
and take the stones out, then slice them thin, and put about a gallon
to two gallons of water, and a quart of white wine; put them over a
fire gently to simmer a considerable time, till the sliced fruit become
soft; then pour off the liquid part into other peaches that have been so
used and bruised, but not heated; let them stand twelve hours, some-
times with stirring, and then pour out the liquid part, and press what
remains through a fine hair bag, and put them together into a cask to
ferment; then add of loaf-sugar a pound and a half to each gallon; boil
well an ounce of beaten cloves in a quart of white wine, and add it,
which will give a curious flavour.
J
Wine of apricots may be made with only bruising and pouring the
hot liquor on, not requiring so much sweetening, by reason they are of
a more dulcet or luscious quality; only, to give it a curious flavour, boil
an ounce of mace, and half an ounce of nutmegs, in a quart of white
wine; and when the wine is on the ferment, pour the liquid part in hot,
and hang a bunch of fresh borage, well flowered, into the cask, by a
$-
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BREWING AND DISTILLING.
string at the bung, for three days; draw it off, and keep it in bottles,
which are most proper to preserve these sorts of wines.
To make Wine of Quinces.
Gather the quinces when pretty ripe, in a dry day, rub off the down
with a clean linen cloth, then lay them in hay or straw for ten days, to
sweat; so cut them in quarters, and take out the core, and bruise them
well in a mashing tub with a wooden beetle, and squeeze out the li-
quid part, by pressing them in a hair bag by degreeș în a cider press;
strain this liquor through a fine sieve, then warm it gently over a fire,
and scum it, but suffer it not to boil; sprinkle into it loaf sugar reduced
to powder, then in a gallon of water and a quart of white wine, boil a
dozen or fourteen large quinces thinly sliced; add two pounds of fine
sugar, and then strain out the liquid párt, and mingle it with the na-
tural juice of the quinces; put it into a cask, not to fill it, and jumble
them well together; then let it stand to settle: put in Juice of clary
half a pint to five or six gallons, and mix it with a little flour and
whites of eggs, then draw it off, and, if it be not sweet enough, add
morė sugar, and a quart of the best malmsey; you may, to make it
the better, boil a quarter of a pound of stoned raisins of the sun, and a
quarter of an ounce of cinnamon, in a quart of the liquor, to the con-
sumption of a third part, and straining the liquor, put it into the cask
when the wine is upon the ferment.

To make Birch Wine.
As this is a liquor but little understood, I shall be as particular as
possible in my directions concerning it. In the first place, as to tho
season for getting the liquor from birch trees, which sometimes happens
the latter end of February or beginning of March, before the leaves
shoot out, as the sap begins to rise; and this is according to the mild-
ness or rigour of the weather; and if the time is delayed, the juice will
grow too thick to be drawn out, which should be as thin and clear as
possible. The method of procuring the juice is by boring holes in
the trunk of the tree, and fixing faucets made of elder; but care should
be taken not to tap it in too many places at once, for fear of hurting
the tree. If the tree is large, it may be bored in five or six places at
once, and place bottles to let it drop in. When you have extracted a
proper quantity, three, four, or five gallons, from different trees, cork the
bottles very close, and rosin or wax them till you begin to make your
wine, which should be as soon as possible after you have got the juice.
As soon as you begin, boil the sap as long as you can take off any
scum; and put four pounds of fine loaf sugar to every gallon of the
juice, and the peel of a lemon cut thin; then boil it again for near an
hour, scumming it all the while, and pour it into a tub. As soon as it
is almost cold, work it with a toast spread with yeast, and let it stand
five or six days, stirring it twice or three times each day. Take a cask
that will contain it, and put a lighted match dipped well in brimstone
into the cask; stop it up till the match is burnt out, and then tun your
wine into it, putting the bung lightly in till it has done working.
Bung it very close for about three months, and bottle it off for use.
will be fit in a week after it is put in the bottles.
It
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11
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BREWING AND DISTILLING.
735
To make Wine of Plums, Damsons, &c.
To do this, take what plums you please, mix those of a sweet taste
with an allay of those that are somewhat sour, though they must be all
inclining to 'ripeness; slit them in halves, so that the stones may be
taken out, then mash them gently, and add a little water and honey;
the better to moisten them, boil to every gallon of pulp of your plums
a gallon of spring water, in it a few bay leaves and cloves; add as
much sugar as will well sweeten it, scum off the froth, and let it cool,
then press the fruit, squeezing out the liquid part; strain all through a
fine strainer, and put the water and juice up together in a cask; let it
stand and ferment three or four days, fine it with white sugar, flour,
and whites of eggs, draw it off into bottles, then cork it up, that the air
may not prejudice it; in twelve days it will be ripe, and taste like
sherry, or rather a nearer flavour of canary.

·
Damsons may be ordered as other plums, though they produce a
tarter wine, more clear and lasting; but put not so much water to
them as to luscious plums, unless you mix some sweet wine with it,
as Malaga, Canary, or the like; or infuse raisins of the sun in it, which
will give it a rich and mellow taste.
To make Wine of English Figs,
To do this, take the large blue figs, pretty ripe; steep them in white
wine, having made some slits in them, that they may swell, and ga-
ther in the substance of the wine, then slice some other figs, and let
them simmer over a fire in fair water till they are reduced to a kind of
pulp, strain out the water, pressing the pulp hard, and pour it as hot
as may be to those figs that are imbued in the wine; let the quantities
be nearly equal, the water somewhat more than the wine and figs; then,
having infused twenty-four hours, mash them well together, and draw
off what will run voluntarily, then press the rest, and if it prove not
pretty sweet, add loaf sugar to render it so: let it ferment, and add
a little honey and sugarcandy to it, then fine it with whites of eggs
and a little isinglass, and so draw it off, and keep it for use.
1
To make Wine of Roses.
To do this, fit a glass basin, or body, or for want of it, a well glazed
earthen vessel, and put into it three gallons of rose water, drawn with
a
i
1
cold still; put into it a convenient quantity of rose leaves; cover it
close, and put it for an hour in a kettle or cauldron of water, heating it
over the fire to take out the whole strength and tincture of the roses,
and when cold, press the rose leaves hard into the liquor, and steep
fresh ones in, repeating it till the liquor has got a full strength of the
roses; and then to every gallon of liquor add three pounds of loaf
sugar; stir it well, that it may melt and disperse in every part; then
put it up into a cask, or other convenient vessel to ferment; and to
make it do so the better, add a little fixed nitre and flour, and two or
three whites of eggs; let it stand to cool about thirty days, and it will
be ripe, and have a curious flavour, having the whole strength and
scent of the roses in it; and you may add, to meliorate it, some wine
and spices, as your taste or inclination leads you,
+
By this way of infusion, wine of carnations, clove gilliflowers, vio
+
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·
1
736
BREWING AND DISTILLING.
lets, primroses, or any flower having a curious scent, may be made; to
which, to prevent repetition, I refer you.
To make Wine of Raspberries the English way.
Take what quantity you please of red raspberries, when they are
nearly ripe, for if they grow over ripe they will lose much of their plea-
sant scent; and after clearing the husks and stalks from them, soak
them in the like quantity of fair water, that has been boiled and
sweetened with fine loaf sugar, a pound and a half to a gallon; when
they are well soaked about twelve hours, take them out, put them in-
to a fine linen pressing bag, press out the juice into the water, then
boil them up together, and scum them well twice or thrice over a
gentle fire; take off the vessel, and let the liquor cool, and when the
scum arises take off all that you can, and pour off the liquor by incli-
nation into a well seasoned cask, or earthen vessel; then boil an ounce
of mace quite down, if possible, in a pint of white wine, till the third
part of the wine be consumed; strain it, and add it to the liquor: let it
settle two days, and when it has well settled and fermented, draw it off
into a cask, or bottles, and keep it in a cool place.
The French way of making this Wine.
Steep two gallons of raspberries in a gallon of sack twenty-four
hours, then strain them, and put to the liquor three quarters of a
pound of raisins of the sun, well stoned, and let them continue four or
five days, sometimes stirring them well; then pour it off gently, that
the clearest may be taken away, and only the dregs and settlings re-
main, and bottle that up you pour off. If you find it not sweet enough
for the palate, you may add some sugar, about half a pound to a gallon
will be sufficient; keep it in a cool place,
1
B
Another Way to make Raspberry Wine.
Gather the raspberries when ripe, and bruise them; strain them
through a bag made of woollen into a jar. Put about a pound of the
best double refined loaf sugar; mix the whole well together, and stop
it close. Pour it off as clear as possible, after it has stood four days.
The common method is to put two quarts of white wine to one quart of
the raspberry juice; but I think that too much, as it overpowers the
rich flavour of the fruit; three pints will be enough. Bottle it off, and
it will be fit to drink in ten days. The juice mixed with brandy, is a
fine dram. Put about two quarts of brandy to three quarts of rasp-
berry juice, and it will drink well in ten days.
3
+
To make Wine of Mulberries.
Take mulberries, when they are just changed from their redness
to a shining black, gather them in a dry day, when the sun has taken
off the dew, spread them thinly on a fine cloth, on a floor or table,
for twenty-four hours, boil up a gallon of water to each gallon of
juice you get out of them; scum the water well, and add a little cin-
namon slightly bruised; put to every gallon six ounces of white sugar-
candy, finely beaten, scum and strain the water when it is taken off
and settled, and put to it the juice of mulberries, and to every gallon
the mixture of a pint of white or rhenish wine; let them stand in a
F
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BEEWING AND DISTILLING,
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cask to purge or settle five or six days, then draw off the wine, and
keep it cool.
W
1.
To make Morella Wine.
Take two gallons of white wine, and twenty pounds of Morella
cherries; take away the stalks, and so bruise them that the stones may
be broken: press the juice into the wine; put mace, cinnamon, and
nutmeg, each an ounce, in a bag grossly bruised, hang it in the wine
when you have put it up in a cask, and it will be a rich drink.
To make Vinum Sambuceum, or Elderberry Wine.
Take elderberries, when pretty ripe, plucked from the green stalks,
what quantity you please, and press them that the juice may freely
run from them, which may be done in a cider-press, or between two
weighty planks, or, for want of this opportunity, you may mash them,
and then it will run easily; this juice put up in a well seasoned cask,
and to every barrel put three gallons of water strong of honey boiled in
it, and add some ale yeast to make it ferment, and work out the gross-
ness of its body; then, to clarify it, add flour, whites of eggs, and a
little fixed nitre; and when it has well fermented, and grows fine, draw
it from the settlings, and keep it till spring; then to every barrel add
five pounds of its own flowers, and as much loaf sugar, and let it
stand seven days; at the end whereof it will grow very rich, and have
a good flavour.
F
-
A different Way to make Elder Wine.*
When the elderberries are ripe, pick them, and put them into a stone
Jar; then set them in boiling water, or rather in an oven not over hot,
till the jar is as warm as you can well bear to touch it with your hand;
take the berries and strain them through a sieve or coarse cloth, squeez-
ing them hard, and pour the liquor into a kettle. Put it on the fire, let
it boil, and put in as many pounds of Lisbon sugar as there are quarts
of juice, and scum it often; then let it settle, and pour it off into a jar,
and cover it close. I have known many people mix it with their raisin
wine, by putting half a pint of the elder syrup to every gallon of wine;
it gives the raisin wine an exquisite fine flavour, equal to any foreig₁
wine whatever.
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To make Elder Flower Wine.
To six gallons of spring water put six pounds of raisins of the sun,
cut small, and a dozen pounds of fine powder sugar; boil the whole to-
gether about an hour and a half; then take elder flowers, when pretty
ripe, and pull them off to about half a peck. When the liquor is cold,
put the flowers in, and about a gill of lemon juice, and half the quan-
tity of ale yeast. Cover it up, and, after standing three days, strain
it off, pour it into a cask that is quite sweet, and that will hold it with
ease. When this is done, put about a wine quart of Rhenish to every
gallon of wine, let the bung be lightly put in for twelve or fourteen
days; then stop it down fast, and put it in a cool dry place for four or
five months, till it is quite settled and fine; and bottle it off.
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To make Cowslip Wine.
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.
Put five pounds of loaf sugar to four gallons of fair water, simmer
them over a fire half an hour, to well dissolve the sugar, and when it is
taken off, and cold, put in half a peck of cowslip flowers, clean picked
and gently bruised; then put two spoonsful of new ale yeast, and a.
pound of syrup of lemons beaten with it, with a lemon peel or two.
Pour the whole into a well seasoned cask or vessel, let them stand close
stopped for three days, that they, may ferment well; then put in some
juice of cowslips, and give it a convenient space to work, and when it
has stood a month draw it off into bottles, `putting a little lump of loat
sugar into each, by which means you may keep it well the space of a
year. In like manner you may make wine of such other like flowers
that are of a pleasant taste and scent, as oxhips, jessamine, peach blooms,
comfry, scabeous, featherfew, fumitary, and many more, as your fancy
and taste may lead you; having shewed you different ways to let you
`know that you need not exactly keep to one certain rule, but please
your palate by such additions as you think convenient; though, by
straying too far, you may happen to mar the whole design: therefore
in all things, keep as near as you can to the rules I have given.
*
BREWING AND DISTILLING.
T
*
11.
1
To make Scurvygrass Wine.
Scurvygrass, or spoonwort, is a very sovereign medicinal herb, ap-
propriated chiefly to the health of English bodies.
Take the best large scurvygrass tops and leaves, in May, June, or
July, bruise them well in a stone mortar, then put them in a well
glazed earthen vessel, and sprinkle them over with some powder of
chrystal of tartar, then smear, them over with virgin honey, and being
covered close, let it stand twenty-four hours; then set water over á
gentle fire, putting to every gallon three pints of honey, and when the
scum rises, take it off, and let it cool; then put your stamped scurvy-
grass into a barrel, and pour the liquor to it, setting the vessel conveni-
ently end-ways, with a tap at the bottom, and when it has been infus-
ed twenty-four hours, draw off the liquor, and strongly press the juice
and moisture out of the herb into the barrel or vessel, and put the li-
quor up again; then put a little new ale yeast to it, and suffer it to fer-
ment three days, covering the place of the bung or vent with a piece of
bread spread over with mustard seed, downward, in a cool placé, and
let it continue till it is fine and drinks brisk; then is the time to draw
off the finest part, leaving only the dregs behind: add more herbs, and
ferment it with whites of eggs, flour, and fixed nitre, ver juice, or the
juice of green grapes, if they are to be had; to which add six pounds
of the syrup of mustard, all mixed and well beaten together, to refine
it down, and it will drink brisk, but is not very pleasant; being here
inserted among artificial wines rather for the sake of health than for the
delightfulness of its taste.
}
To make Wine of Mint, Balm, and other Herbs, &c.
First, distil the herb in the cold still, then add honey to it, and work
as in scurvygrass, and then refine it, and work it down by a due pro-
portion of its own syrup; by this means the wine will become very fra-
grant, and contain the whole virtue of the herb: wormwood wine, wine
of rue, cardus, and such strong physical herbs, may be made by in-
1
•
↓




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BREWING AND DISTILLING
739
I
fusion only, in small white wines, cider, perry, or the like, adding a
little sweets to palate them, that they may be more agreeable to the
taste. That of black currants may be made as of other currants, and is
very useful in all families:
**
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To make Orange Wine.
Put twelve pounds of fine sugar, and the whites of eight eggs, well
beaten, into six gallons of spring water; let it boil an hour, scumming
it all the time; take it off, and when it is pretty cool, put in the juice
of fifty Seville oranges, and six spoonsful of good ale yeast, and let it
stand two days: then put it in another vessel with two quarts of Rhe-
nish wine and the juice of twelve lemons; you must let the juice of le-
mons and wine, and two pounds of double refined sugar, stand close
covered ten or twelve hours before you put it into the vessel to your
orange wine, and scum off the seeds before you put it in. The lemon-
peels must be put in with the oranges, half the rinds must be put into
the vessel: it must stand ten or twelve days before it is fit to bottle.
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To make Sage Wine. da
Boil twenty-six quarts of spring water a quarter of an hour, and,
when it is blood warm, put twenty-five pounds of Malaga raisins, pick-
ed, rubbed, and shred, into it, with almost half, a, bushel of red sage
shred, and a porringer of ale yeast; stir all well together, and let it
stand in a tub, covered warm, six or seven days, stirring it once a
day; then strain it off, and put it in a runlet. Let it work three or
four days, and then stop it up; when it has stood six or seven days,
put in a quart or two of Malaga sack; and when it is fine bottle it.
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To make Turnip Wine..
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*
Take a good many turnips, pare them, slice them, put them into
a cider press, and press out all the juice very well. To every gallon
of juice have three pounds of lump sugar; have a vessel ready just
big enough to hold the juice; put your sugar into a vessel; and also
to every gallon of juice half a pint of brandy. Pour in the juice, and
lay something over the bung for a week, to see if it works; if it does,
you must not bring it down till it has done working; then stop it
close for three months, and draw it off into another vessel. When it
is fine bottle it off.
***
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Cyprus Wine imitated.
AND 30.
You must to nine gallons of water put nine quarts of the juice of
the white elderberries, which has been pressed gently from the ber-
ries with the hand, and passed through a sieve, without bruising
the kernels of the berries: add to every gallon of liquor three pounds
of Lisbon sugar, and to the whole quantity put an ounce and a half
of ginger sliced, and three quarters of an ounce of cloves; then boil
this near an hour, taking off the scum as it rises, and pour the whole
to cool in an open tub, and work it with ale yeast spread upon a
toast of white bread, for three days, and then turn it into a vessel that
will just hold it, adding about a pound and a half of raisins of the
sun, split, to lie in liquor till we draw it off, which should not be till
the wine is fine, which you will find in January.
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740
BREWING AND DISTILLING.
This wine is so much like the fine rich wine brought from Cyprus,
in its colour and flavour, that it has deceived the best judges.
To make Gilliflower Wine.
To three gallons of water put six pounds of the best powder sugar,
boil the sugar and water together for the space of half an hour, keep
scumming it as the scum rises; let it stand to cool, beat up three
ounces of syrup of betony with a large spoonful of ale yeast, put it into
the liquor, and brew it well together; then having a peck of gilli-
flowers, cut from the stalks, put them into the liquor, let them infuse
and work together three days, covered with a cloth; strain it, and put
it into a cask, and let it settle for three or four weeks, then bottle it.
To make Mead.
Having got thirteen gallons of water, put thirty pounds of honey to
it, boil and scum it well; then take rosemary, thyme, bay leaves, and
sweetbriar, one handful altogether; boil it an hour; then put it into a
tub, with two or three handfuls of ground malt; stir it till it is blood
warm; then strain it through a cloth, and put it into a tub again; cut
a toast round a quartern loaf, and spread it over with good ale yeast,
and put it into your tub; and when the liquor is quite over with the
yeast, put it up in your vessel; then take of cloves, mace, and nut-
megs, an ounce and a half; of ginger sliced, an ounce; bruise the spice,
and tie it up in a rag, and hang it in the vessel; stop it up close for
use.
General Rules for the Distillation of Simple Waters.
1. Plants and their parts ought to be fresh gathered. Where they
are directed fresh, such only must be employed; but some are allowed
to be used dry, as being easily procurable in this state at all times of
the year, though rather more elegant waters might be obtained from
them whilst green.
2. Having bruised the subjects a little, pour thereon thrice its quan-
tity of spring water.
This quantity is to be diminished or increased, according as the plants
are more or less juicy than ordinary.
When fresh and juicy herbs are to be distilled, thrice their weight
of water will be fully sufficient, but dry ones require a much larger
quantity.
In general, there should be so much water, that after all intended to
be distilled has come over, there may be liquor enough left to prevent
the matter from burning to the still.
3. Formerly some vegetables were slightly fermented with the ad-
dition of yeast, previous to the distillation.
4. If any drops of oil swim on the surface of the water, they are
carefully taken off.
5. That the waters may be kept the better, about one-twentieth part
of their weight of proof spirit may be added to each, after they are
distilled.
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+

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BREWING, AND DISTILLING.
741
Stills used for Simple Waters
The instruments chiefly used in the distillation of simple waters are
of two kinds, commonly called the hot still, or alembic, and the cold
still
The waters drawn by the cold still from plants are much more fra-
grant, and more fully impregnated with their virtues, than those drawn
by the hot still, or alembic. The method is this:
A pewter body is suspended in the body of the alembic, and the head
of the still fitted to the pewter body; into this body the ingredients to
be distilled are put, the alembic filled with water, the stillhead luted to
the pewter body, and the nose luted to the worm of the refrigeratory
or worm.
The same intention will be answered, by putting the ingredients into
a glass alembic, and placing it in a bath heat, or balneum mariæ.
The cold still is much the best adapted to draw off the virtues of
simples, which are valued for their fine flavour when green, which is
subject to be lost in drying; for when we want to extract from plants
& spirit so light and volatile as not to subsist in open air any longer than
while the plant continues in its growth, it is certainly the best method
to remove the plant from its native soil, into some proper instrument,
where, as it dies, these volatile parts can be collected and preserved.
And such an instrument is what we call the cold still, where the dry-
ing of the plant, or flower, is only forwarded by a moderate warmth,
and all that rises is collected and preserved.
As the method of performing the operation by the cold still is the
very same, whatever plant or flower is used, the following instance of
procuring a water from rosemary, will be abundantly sufficient to in-
struct the young practitioner in the manner of conducting the process
in all cases whatever.
Take rosemary, fresh gathered in its perfection, with the morning
dew upon it, and lay it lightly and unbruised upon the plate or bottom
of the still; cover the plate with its conical head, and apply a glass re-
ceiver to the nose of it. Make a small fire of charcoal under the plate,
continuing it as long as any liquor comes over into the receiver.
{
When nothing more comes over, take off the still head, and remove
the plant, putting fresh in its stead, and proceed as before; continue to
repeat the operation successively, till a sufficient quantity of water is
procured
Let this distilled water be kept at rest in clean bottles, close stopped;
for some days in a cold place; by this means it will become limpid, and
powerfully impregnated with the taste and smell of the plant.
In this water are contained the liquor of dew, consisting of its own
proper parts, which are not without difficulty separated from the plant,
and cleave to it even in drying. This dew also, by sticking to the out-
side, receives the liquid parts of the plant, which being elaborated the
day before, and exhaled in the night, are hereby detained, so that they
concrete together into one external liquid, which is often viscid, as ap-
pears in manna, honey, &c.
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BREWING AND DISTILLING.
742
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Simple Alexeterial Waters.
Take of spearmint leaves, fresh, a pound and a half; sea wormwood
tops, fresh, angelica leaves, fresh, each one pound; water, as much as is
sufficient to prevent burning. Draw off by distillation three gallons.
Or, Take of elder flowers, moderately dried, two pounds; angelica
leaves, fresh gathered, one pound; water, a sufficient quantity. Distil
off three gallons.
::1
17
These waters are sufficiently elegant with regard to taste and smell,
though few expect from them such virtues as their title seems to
imply.
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Simple Cinnamon Waler.
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Take of cinnamon, one pound; water, a gallon and a half; steep
them together for two days; and then distil off the water till it ceases
to run milky. 1.
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This is a very grateful and useful water, possessing in an eminent
degree the fragrance and aromatic virtues of the spice.
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Simple Peppermint Water.
Take of peppermint leaves, dry, a pound and a half; water, as much
as will prevent the leaves burning.
Draw off by distillation one gallon.
This is a very elegant and useful water. It has a warm pungent
taste, exactly resembling that of the peppermint itself.
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Simple Pennyroyal Water.
Take of pennyroyal leaves, dry, a pound and a half; water, as much
as will prevent burning.
Draw off by distillation one gallon.
5.
Waler of Pennyroyal.
Take of pennyroyal leaves, fresh, any quantity; water, three times
as much. Distil as long as the water comes off well flavoured of the
herb.
These waters possess, in a considerable degrée, the smell, taste, and
virtues of pennyroyal.
They are frequently taken in hysteric cases, and not without good
effects.
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This water is principally valued on account of its fine flavour, which
approaches to that generally admired in the rose itself.
*
•
Damask Rose Water.
}
Take of damask roses, fresh gathered, six pounds; water as much as
will keep them from burning. Distil off a gallon of the water.
Or, Take three parts of water to one of the fresh roses, and distil as
long as the water which comes over has smell of the flowers.
This water is principally valued on account of its fine flavour, which
approaches to that generally in the rose itself. The purgative virtue of
the roses remain entire in the liquor left in the still, which has there-
fore been generally employed for making the solutive honey, and syrup,
instead of decoction or infusion of fresh roses prepared on purpose: and
this piece of frugality the college have now admitted.
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BREWING AND DISTILLING.
743
;
Receipt for Orange Flower. Water..:
Take two pounas of orange flowers, and twenty-four quarts of water,
and draw over three pints.
*:
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Or, Take twelve pounds of orange flowers, and sixteen paarts of wa
ter, and draw over fifteen quarts
K
Receipt for one gallon of Orange Peel Water.
The orange is a fruit too well known to need any comment.
H
Take of the outward yellow rind of Seville oranges, four ounces; wa-
ter, three gallons and a half; draw off one gallon by the alembic, with
a pretty brisk fire. ·
1
20
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Simple Spearmint Water.
Jon
Take of spearmint leaves, fresh, any quantity; water, three times as
much. Distil as long as the liquor, which comes oyer has a considerable
taste or smell of the mint.
Y
Y
Or, Take spearmint leaves, dried, a pound and a half; water, as
much as is sufficient to prevent burning. Draw off by distillation one
gallon.
These waters smell and taste very strong of the mint; and prove, in
many cases, useful stomachics.
Boerhaave commends them (cohobated) as a present and incomparable
remedy for strengthening a weak stomach, and curing vomiting pro-
ceeding from cold viscous phlegm, as also in lienteries.
**
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**
Bought at first cost
To make up Rum, Brandy, and Hollands Gin.
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On the arrival of the West India fleets, it is usual for dealers in spirits
to purchase large quantities of rum from the importers at once, and ac-
quaint their correspondents therewith, and the price they then bear
part of the rums are bonded, and the remainder taken home. Prepar-
ation being made for their reception, the above rums are carted home,
and started into a back or a large vessel, the overproof reduced with
water. Being well rummaged, and further reduced, suppose we say to
one in ten under proof (which is a good mercantile strength). In
purchasing rums you may have some from Barbadoes, Antigua, and
other sugar plantations, as well as Jamaica; for it cannot be supposed
that Jamaica can supply all the country with rums; therefore by mixing
the different rums together, and letting them remain in the aforesaid
back till they are wanted, will greatly, mellow and improve their flavour,
Having given the process, it is necessary to demonstrate clearly what
each puncheon stands you in.
た
​Made up Rum.
C
Cut
Jamaica rum one hundred gallons, one to three and four per cent.
The per cents 37 reduced.
ī
137 gallons of proof spirits at 18s. per gallon, £123 0 0
17 further reduced to 1 in 10
154 gallons I' in 10 under proof at 19s. per gal-
lon
·
146 6 0
- 123 0 0
£23 6 0
""
፡

€
5
i
1
744
BREWING AND DISTILLING.
It appears by this calculation, there is a profit on each puncheon,
twenty-three pounds, six shillings. From this sum, the various ex-
penses and losses must be deducted, and the remainder will be the dis-
tiller's profit.
The above calculations will answer for brandy and Hollands geneva,
and you can make them up to any strength, but not under one in six.
To make British Brandy.
1
To sixty gallons of clean rectified spirits, put one pound of sweet
spirit of nitre into it, one pound of cassia buds ground, one pound of
bitter almond meal (cassia and almond meal to be mixed together), be-
fore they are put to the spirits, two ounces of orris root, sliced (not
powdered), and about thirty or forty prune stones, pounded; rummage
them all well together two or three times a day, for three days or more;
let them settle, then add one gallon of the best wine vinegar; and if you
wish to have it better than British brandy is in common, add to every
four gallons one gallon of foreign brandy, which will make it nearly
equal to foreign itself.

To make an Artificial Proof.
To make an artificial proof for spirits, take pearl ashes, a quarter of
a pound; pot ashes, ditto; soper's lye water, three quarts; one ounce
of the oil of vitriol, one pint of the oil of almonds; lime water, one gal-
lon; add a little of this mixture to your goods by degrees till you find
it carries a good head.
Notwithstanding we have given this receipt, we do not recommend any
person in the spirit trade to make use of it.
t.
1
To make a Four Gallon Cask of Lime Water.
:
>
Take eight pounds of unslaked lime, put it into a pail or tub, and
pour on it three quarts of water to dissolve it; in about an hour after
add three gallons more of water, and let it stand for twenty-four hours;
then pour the fine off into your four gallon cask, and put a cock in it,
and it is always ready for use.
;
Some may think lime water is very unwholesome, but it is quite the
contrary; it is much used in medicine, and the distillers wash their
back with it.
Capillaire.
Take fourteen pounds of loaf sugar, three pounds of coarse sugar,
and six eggs, well beat up. Put these into three quarts of water; boil
it up twice, skim it well, and then add a quarter of a pint of orange
flower water; strain it through a jelly bag, and put it into bottles for
A spoonful or two of this syrup put into a draught of either warm
or cold water, makes it drink exceeding pleasant.
use.
1
The Vitriolic Liquor, or Ether.
Take of rectified spirit of wine, oil of vitriol, of each thirty-two
ounces; pour the spirit into a glass retort, that will bear the sudden
heat, and pour the acid, at once, upon it; mix them gradually and cau-
tiously together, by gently shaking the retort; and immediately distil
by a sand heat, prepared beforehand for that purpose, the recipient be-
ing placed in a vessel of snow or water. The fire should be so regulated,
1


BREWING AND DISTILLING.
745
:
that the liquor may boil as soon as possible, and continued to boil till
sixteen ounces are distilled, when the retort is to be removed.
To the distilled liquor add two drachms of the stronger common cau-
stic; and distil again, from a very high retort, with a very gentle fire,
the recipient being placed as before in a refrigeratory. Continue the
distillation till ten ounces are drawn off.
To the acid residuum, after the distillation, if you pour sixteen ounces
of rectified spirit of wine, and repeat the distillation, more etherial li-
quor may be obtained; and this process may be repeated several times.
The preparation of this singular fluid has hitherto been confined to few
hands; for though several processes have been published for obtaining
it, the success of most of them is precarious, and some of them are ac-
companied with danger to the operator. Where the dulcified spirit only
is the object, the method, as before directed for it, succeeds to perfec-
tion: but when it is made with a view to the other, a variation is neces-
sary; for only a small quantity of ether can be separated from the spirit
so prepared; there, the distillation is performed with an equable and
gentle heat; here the fire should be hastily raised, so as to make the li-
quor boil; for on this circumstance the produce of ether principally
depends.
Ether is the lightest, most volatile, and inflammable of all known
liquids. It is lighter than the most highly rectified spirit of wine, in
proportion of about seven to eight. A drop let fall on the hand, eva-
porates almost in an instant, scarcely rendering the part moist. It
does not mix, but only in a small quantity, with water, spirit of wine,
alkaline lixivia, volatile alkaline spirits, or acids; but is a powerful
dissolvent for oils, balsams, resins, and other analogous substances. It
has a fragrant odour, which, in consequence of the volatility of the
fluid, is diffused through a large space. Its medical virtues are not as
yet much known, though it is not to be doubted that a fluid of so
much subtilty must have considerable effects. It has often been found
to give ease in violent headachs, by being applied externally to the
part, and to relieve the toothach by being laid on the afflicted jaw. It
has been given also internally, with benefit, in hooping coughs and hy-
sterical cases, from two or three drops to five and twenty, in a glass
of wine or water, which should be swallowed as quick as possible, as
the ether so speedily exhales.
Dulcified Spirit of Nitre.
Take of rectified spirit of wine, three pounds; nitrous acid, one
pound; pour the rectified spirit of wine into a large bolt head, placed
in a vessel of cold water, and add by degrees the acid, carefully shak-
ing the vessel; set it. in a cool place, lightly stopped, for seven days;
afterwards distil the liquor in a water bath, the receiver being placed
in a vessel filled either with water or snow, as long as any spirit arises.
•
Here the operator must take care not to invert the order of mixing
the two liquors, by pouring the vinous spirit into the acid; for if he
should, a violent effervescence and heat would ensue, and the matter
be dispersed, in highly noxious red fumes. The most convenient and
safe method of performing the mixture seems to be, to put the inflam-
mable spirit into a large glass body, with a narrow mouth, placed under
a chimney, and to pour upon it the acid, by means of a glass funnel, in
very small quantities at a time, shaking the vessel as soon as the effer-
*
4


5 C
746
BREWING AND DISTILLING.
י
vescence ensuing upon each addition ceases, before a fresh quantity is
put in. By these means the glass will be heated equally, and be pre-
vented from breaking. During the action of the two spirits upon one-
another, the vessel should be lightly covered; if close stopped, it will
burst; and, if left entirely open, some of the more valuable parts will
exhale. Lemery directs the mixture to be made in au open vessel; by
which unscientifical procedure he usually lost, as he himself observes,
half his liquor: and we may presume that the remainder was not the
medicine here intended.
•


+
་
Dulcified spirit of nitre has been long held, and not undeservedly, in
great esteem. It quenches thirst, promotes the natural secretions, ex-
pels flatulencies, and moderately strengthens the stomach. It may be
given from twenty drops to a drachm, in water, tea, or wine. Mixed
with a small quantity of spirit of hartshorn, the spiritus volatilis aro-
maticus, or any other alkaline spirit, it proves a mild, yet efficacious,
diaphoretic, and often notably diuretic; especially in some febrile cases,
where such a salutary evacuation is wanted. A small proportion of
this spirit, added to malt spirits, gives them a flavour approaching to
that of French brandy.
!
•
Every Family to make their own Sweet Oil:
It is reported, a person is going to take out a patent for making a
small hand-mill, for every family to make their own sweet oil. This
may easily be done, by grinding or beating the seeds of white poppies
into a paste, then boil it in water, and skim off the oil as it rises; one
bushel of seed weighs fifty pounds, and produces two gallons of oil. Of
the sweet olive oil sold, one-half is of oil of poppies. The poppies will
grow in any garden: it is the large head white poppy, sold by apothe
caries. Large fields are sown with poppies in France and Flanders, for
the purpose
of expressing oil from their seed for food. Vide 10th and
11th vols. of Bath Society papers, where a premium of twelve guineas
is offered for the greatest number of acres sown in 1808 and 1809.
When the seed is taken out, the poppy head when dried is boiled to an
extract, which is sold at two shillings per quart.
!
>
J
+
To make Verjuice.
The acid of the juice of the crab or wilding is called by the country
people verjuice, and is much used in recent sprains, and in other cases,
as an astringent or repellent. With a proper addition of sugar, it is
probable that a very grateful liquor might be made of this juice, but
little inferior to old hock.
+
}
A
•
4
Method of making Vinegar.
To every gallon of water put a pound of coarse Lisbon sugar; let
the mixture be boiled, and skimmed so long as any scum arises. Then
let it be poured into proper vessels; and when it is as cool as beer
when worked, let a warm toast, rubbed over with yeast, be put to it:
Let it work about twenty-four hours, and then put it into an iron-hoop-
ed cask, and fixed either near a constant fire, or where the summer sun
shines the greater part of the day; in this situation it should not be
closely stopped up, but a tile, or something similar, laid on the bung
hole, to keep out the dust and insects. At the end of about three
+
3
months (sometimes less) it will be clear, and fit for use, and may be
?


BREWING AND DISTILLING.
7747
*
bottled off. The longer it is kept after it is bottled the better it will be.
If the vessel containing the liquor is to be exposed to the sun's heat,
the best time to begin making it is in April.
To make Vinegar with the Refuse of Bee-hives, after the Honey is extracted.
+
氰
​When honey is extracted from the combs by means of pressure, take
the whole mass, break and separate it, and into each tub or vessel put
one part of combs and two of water: place them in the sun, if his rays
possess a sufficient power, or in a warm place, and cover them with
cloths. Fermentation takes place in a few days, and continues from
›eight to twelve days, according to the higher or lower temperature of
the situation in which the operation is performed. During the fermen-
tation, stir the matter from time to time, and press it down with the
hands, that it may be perfectly soaked. When the fermentation is over,
put the matter to drain upon sieves or strainers. At the bottom of the
vessels will be found a yellow liquor, which must be thrown away, be-
cause it would soon contract a disagreeable smell, which it would com-
municate to the vinegar. Then wash the tubs, put into them the water
separated from the other matter; it immediately begins to turn sour;
when the tubs must be again covered with cloths, and kept moderately
warm. A pellicle or skin is formed on their surface, beneath which
the vinegar acquires strength; in a month's time it begins to be sharp;
it must be left standing a little longer, and then put into a cask, of
which the bung hole is left open, and it may then be used like any
other vinegar.
·


الله

To strengthen Vinegar.
Suffer it to be repeatedly frozen, and separate the upper cake of ice
or water from it.
•
Balsamic and Anti-putrid Vinegar.
Acetic acid may be mixed with aromatics, as in Henry's thieves vine-
gar, în a quantity sufficient for a small smelling bottle, at no great ex-
pense. But it is the acetic acid which is useful, and not the aromatics,
which are added for the pleasure of the perfume. Acetous acid or com-
mon vinegar, with or without aromatics, has little or no anti-putrid
quality
Gooseberry Vinegar.
Take the gooseberries, when full ripe, stamp them small; to every
quart put three quarts of water, stir them well together; let it stand
twenty-four hours, then strain it through a canvas bag.
To every gallon of liquor add one pound of brown sugar, and stir
them well together before you barrel your liquor.
The old bright yellow English gooseberries are the best.
To make Primrose Vinegar.
To fifteen quarts of water put six pounds of brown sugar; let it boil
ten minutes, and take off the scum: pour on it half a peck of primroses;
before it is quite cold put in a little fresh yeast, and let it work in a
warm place all night; put it in a barrel in the kitchen, and when done
working, close the barrel, still keeping it in a warm place.
1

748
BREWING AND DISTILLING.
Method of rendering putrid Water Sweel.
In a course of experiments which a gentleman was making, he had
occasion to mix clay with a large quantity of water in a cistern.
After the water and clay had remained thus for some weeks, he tast-
ed the water before it should be thrown out, and found it sweet and
well flavoured. On this he stirred them, to find whether any putrid
stench might rise from the bottom, but was agreeably surprised to find
that the whole was equally sweet.
He now resolved to keep it longer, in order to determine what effect
time might have on the mixture, and, if my memory serves me right,
repeated the tastings and stirrings for several months, with equal suc-
cess, though some part of the time was summer, during which he ex-
pected that the water would have become highly putrid.
He communicated this discovery to the society for the encourage-
ment of arts, &c. it was referred to the committee of chemistry, with
orders to make what experiments should seem to them requisite to de-
termine a point so necessary to the welfare of numbers, as many dis-
eases are known to take their rise from putrid water. The whole was
'confirmed by the report of the committee. Here is then a very easy
means whereby every cottager has it in his power constantly to use
sweet and wholesome water.

•
It is no more than mixing with water a quantity of common clay,
sufficient to take off its transparency, so far as that the hands, held just
under the surface, shall not appear through it.
Note. This experiment has since been tried by mixing clay with
putrid water in a close salt-glazed earthen vessel. The water did not
become sweet. The experiment must not be made in a close vessel, for
the effect of ventilation in sweetening putrid water is well known. Now
water in a stone or lead cistern freely exposed to the air, and particu-
larly if the growth of confervæ be prevented by excluding the light,
will not become putrid in the greatest heat of this climate, unless it be
mixed with a very uncommon proportion of some decomposeable ani-
mal or vegetable substance. The diffusing of clay in water may how-
ever have some effect upon it; for it has been observed, that horses pre-
fer the water of a clay pit: and if there be any disengaged vitriolic acid
in the clay, that acid may take off the putridity.
Perhaps charred casks preserve water longer than any other method.
To purify Water for domestic and other Purposes.
This method is extremely simple, and consists in placing horizontally,
in the midst of a common water butt, a false bottom, perforated with a
great number of small holes. The butt being thus divided into two
equal parts, the upper is filled with pieces of charcoal, which must be
neither too large nor too small, thoroughly burned, light, and well wash-
ed. Immediately under the cock, by which the water enters the butt,
must be placed a small hollow cylinder, being merely to break the force
of the water, and prevent it from falling upon the charcoal with such
violence as to detach from it any particles of dirt, and wash them
through into the lower receptacle; it is of little consequence of what
material it is made. M. Siauve thinks that this contrivance might be
made subservient to the interests of agriculture as well as domestic eco-
nomy; and that it would be highly advantageous to provide water thus
¿
1
BREWING AND DISTILLING.
740
-
filtered for the cattle, during the whole of the dog-days, and particu-
larly when the ponds and streams are infected by the rotting of hemp
and flax.
1
Remark.-A very good filtre may be made of charcoal, but it is com-
paratively expensive; and there is a patent for the only way in which
the filtre can be made to last. In the above receipt, if the charcoal is
not in very fine powder, it will have little effect in purifying the water;
if it be, the charcoal will very soon choke from the quantity of mud
deposited in it by the water, and the frequent renewals of the charcoal,
which would be necessary from the choking, would be found expensive.
The contrivance could only be useful as a temporary means of ascertain-
ing the power of the charcoal on the particular kind of water, with a
view afterwards to procure a proper filtre.
UNI
To purify Water for Drinking……
Filtre river water through a sponge, more or less compressed, instead
of stone or sand, by which the water is not only rendered more clear,
but wholesome; for sand is insensibly dissolved by the water, so that
in four or five years it will have lost a fifth part of its weight. Powder
of charcoal should be added to the sponge when the water is foul, or
fetid. Those who examine the large quantity of terrene matter on the
inside of tea-kettles, will be convinced all water should be boiled before
drunk, if they wish to avoid being afflicted with gravel and stone, &c.
·
**
To purify the muddy Water of Rivers or Pits.
Make a number of holes in the bottom of a deep tub; lay some clean
gravel thereon, and above this some clean sand; sink this tub in the ri-
ver or pit, so that only a few inches of the tub will be above the sur-
face of the water; the river or pit water will filtre through the sand, and
rise clear through it to the level of the water on the outside, and will be
pure and limpid.
→
3
Method of making putrid Water sweet in a Night's Time..
Four large spoonsful of unslacked lime put into a puncheon of ninety
gallons of putrid water, at sea, will, in one night, make it as clear and
sweet as the best spring water just drawn; but unless the water is af-
terwards ventilated sufficiently to carbonize the lime, it will be a lime
water, Three ounces of pure unslacked lime should saturate 90 gal-
lons of water.
1
'T
To prevent the Freezing of Water in Pipes in the Winter Time.
1
By tying up the ball cock, during the frost, the freezing of pipes will
often be prevented; in fact, it will always be prevented where the main
pipe is higher than the cistern or other reservoir, and the pipe is laid
in a regular inclination from one to the other, for then no water can
remain in the pipe; or if the main is lower than the cistern, and the
pipe regularly inclines, upon the supplies ceasing, the pipe will imme
diately exhaust itself into the main. Where water is in the pipes, if
each cock is left a little dripping, this circulation of the water.
quently prevent the pipes from being frozen,
will fre-
A


750
!
r
BREWING AND DISTILLING.
Easy Method of purifying Water.
-Take a common garden pot, in the midst of which place a piece of
wicker work; on this spread a layer of charcoal of four or five inches
in thickness, and above the charcoal a quantity of sand. The surface
of the sand is to be covered with paper pierced full of holes, to prevent
the water from making channels in it. This filtre is to be renewed oc-
casionally. By this process, which is at once simple and economical,
every person is enabled to procure pure limpid water at a very trifling
expense.
The best Method of obtaining pure soft. Water, for Medicinal Purposes,
without distilling it.
Place an earthen pan in the fields, at a considerable distance from the
smoke of any town, to catch the rain as it falls from the clouds. The
water should be put into perfectly clean bottles, and the corks well se-
cured with wax, and if the bottles are put into a cool place, the water
will keep sweet for several years.
1
To purify River or any other Muddy Water.
Dissolve half an ounce of alum in a pint of warm water, and stirring
it about in a puncheon of water just taken from any river, all the im
purities will soon settle to the bottom, and in a day or two it will be-
come as clear as the finest spring water.
...
Warm Water
"
Warm water is preferable to cold water, as a drink, for persons who
are subject to dyspeptic and bilious complaints, and it may be taken
more freely than cold water, and consequently answers better as a dilu-
ent for carrying off bile, and removing obstructions in the urinary se-
cretion in cases of stone and gravel. When water, of a temperature
equal to that of the human body, is used for drink, it proves consider-
ably stimulant, and is particularly suited to dyspeptic, bilious, gouty,
and chlorotic subjects.
·
To make Sea Water fit for washing Linen at Sea.
Soda put into sea water renders it turbid; the lime and magnesia
fall to the bottom. To make sea water fit for washing linen at sea, as
much soda must be put in it, as not only to effect a complete precipita-
tion of these earths, but to render the sea water sufficiently lixivial or
alkaline. Soda should always be taken to sea for this purpose.
Proper Method of making Toast and Water, and the Advantages result-
ing therefrom.
Take a slice of fine and stale loaf bread, cut very thin (as thin as
toast is ever cut), and let it be carefully toasted on both sides, until it be
completely browned all over, but nowise blackened or burned in any
way. Put this into a common deep stone or china jug, and pour over
it, from the tea kettle, as much clean boiling water as you wish to make
into drink. Much depends on the water being actually in a boiling
state. Cover the jug with a saucer or plate, and let the drink cool un-
tal it be quite cold; it is then fit to be used: the fresher it is made the
}
Į
BREWING AND DISTILLING.
751
1
better, and of course the more agreeable. The above will be found a
pleasant, light, and highly diuretic drink. It is peculiarly grateful to
the stomach, and excellent for carrying off the effects of any excess in
drinking. It is also a most excellent drink at meals, and may be used
in the summer time, if more agreeable to the drinker.
To make a Vessel for filtering Water.
C
Where water is to be filtered in large quantities, as for the purposes
of a family, a particular kind of soft spongy stones, called filtering
stones, are employed. These, however, though the water percolates
through them very fine, and in sufficient quantity at first, are liable to
be obstructed in the same manner as paper, and are then rendered use-
less. A better method seems to be, to have a wooden vessel lined with
lead, three or four feet wide at top, but tapering so as to end in a small
orifice at the bottom. The under part of the vessel is to be filled with
very rough sand, or gravel, well freed from earth by washing; over this
pretty fine sand may be laid, to the depth of twelve or fourteen inches,
but which must likewise be well freed from earthy particles.
The vessel may then be filled up to the top with water, pouring it
gently at first, lest the sand should be too much displaced. It will soon
filtre through the sand, and run out at the lower orifice exceedingly
transparent, and likewise in very considerable quantities. When the
upper part of the sand begins to be stopped up, so as not to allow a free
passage to the water, it may occasionally be taken off, and the earthy
matter washed from it, when it will be equally serviceable as before. ;
+
·
::.
},
The Turkish method of filtering Water by Ascension.
They make two wells, from five to ten feet, or any depth, at a small
distance, which have a communication at the bottom. The separation
must be of clay well beaten, or of other substances impervious to wa-
ter. The two wells are then filled with sand and gravel. The open-
ing of that into which the water to be filtered is to run must be some-
what higher than that into which the water is to ascend; and this must
not have sand quite up to its brim, that there may be room for the fil-
tered water; or it may, by a spout, run into a vessel placed for that
purpose. The greater the difference is between the height of the two
wells, the faster the water will filtre; but the less it is the better, pro-
vided a sufficient quantity of water be supplied by it.
This may be practised in a cask, tub, jar, or other vessel. The wa-
ter may be conveyed to the bottom by a pipe, the lower end having a
sponge in it, or the pipe may be filled with coarse sand.
t
It is evident that all such particles, which by their gravity are car-
ried down in filtration by descent, will not rise with the water in filtra-
tion by ascension. This might be practised on board ships at little
expence.
1
j'. *


·
Receipt for two Gallons of Eau de Luce.
Take of the oil of amber, one ounce; of highly rectified spirit of
wine, four pounds; put them into a bottle, and let them remain there five
days, shaking the bottle from time to time, by which means the spirit
will be strongly impregnated with the oil; then put into this impreg
nated spirit four ounces of the choicest amber, finely powdered, and let
1
7
752
BREWING AND DISTILLING.
}
}
{
J
it digest three days, by which means you will have a very rich tincture
of amber.
The tincture of amber being thus made, take of the strongest spirit
of sal-amoniac, sixteen pounds, and add it to the foregoing tincture, to-
gether with eight pounds of highly rectified spirit of wine.
Thus will you obtain the celebrated water called Eau de Luce, so
greatly in request, and so useful in all faintings and lowness of spirits.

Wormwood Cordial by Distillation.
There are two sorts of wormwood cordial, distinguished by the epi-
thets of greater and lesser.
Receipt for making ten gallons of the lesser composition of Wormwood Cordial.
Take of the leaves of dried wormwood, five pounds; of the lesser
cardamon seeds, five ounces, of coriander seeds, one pound; of clean
proof spirit, eleven gallons; water, one gallon; draw of ten gallons, or
till the feints begin to rise, with a gentle fire. It may be dulcified with
sugar or not, at pleasure.
Receipt for ten Gallons of the greater Composition of Wormwood Cordial.
.
Take of common and sea wormwood, dried, of each ten pounds; of
sage, mint, and balm, dried, of each twenty handfuls; of the roots of
galangal, ginger, calamus aromaticus, and coriander, of each three
ounces; of cinnamon, cloves, and nutmegs, the lesser cardamoms and
cubebs, of each two ounces. Cut and bruise the ingredients as they
require; digest them twenty-four hours, in eleven gallons of fine proof
spirit, and two gallons of water, and draw off ten gallons, or till the
feints begin to rise, with a pretty brisk fire.
Cherry Brandy.
This liquor is greatly called for in town and country; and is made
different ways. Some press out the juice of the cherries, and having
dulcified it with sugar, add as much spirit to it as the goods will bear,
or the price it is intended to be sold for. But the common method is,
to put the cherries, clean picked, into a cask, with a proper quantity of
proof spirit; and after standing about eighteen days, the goods are
drawn off into another cask for sale, and about two-thirds of the first
quantity of spirits poured into the cask upon the cherries. This is to
stand about a month to extract the whole virtue from the cherries, after
which it is drawn off as before; and the cherries pressed to take out
the spirit they had absorbed. The proportion of cherries and spirit is
not very nicely observed; the general rule is, to let the cask be about
half filled with cherries, and then filled up with proof spirits. Some
add to every twenty gallons of spirit half an ounce of cinnamon, an
ounce of cloves, and about three pounds of sugar, by which the flavour
of the goods is considerably increased. But in order to save expences,
not only the spices and sugar are generally omitted, but also a great
part of the cherries, and the deficiency supplied by the juice of elder-
berries. Your own reason, therefore, and the price you can sell your
goods for, must direct you in the choice of your ingredients.-By the
same method you may make raspberry brandy; and if the colour of
the goods be not deep enough, it may be improved by an addition of
cherry brandy, elder juice, or other colouring substance, as log-wood, &c.
•
"
&

BREWING AND DISTILLING.
758
Raspberry Brandy
Is infused much after the same manner with cherry brandy, and
drawn off, and made fit for sale with about the same addition of brandy
to what you draw off from the first, second, and third infusion, and
dulcified accordingly, first making it of a bright deep colour; but
omitting cinnamon and cloves in the first, but not in the second and
third infusion.

The first infusion will be of a colour deep enough without help or art
to it; the second infusion will be somewhat paler, and must be made
deeper coloured, by adding cherry brandy about a quart to ten or more
gallons of the said raspberry brandy; and the third infusion will take
more cherry brandy to colour the raspberry, which your own judgment
will direct you in; here you may assist the colour and flavour with the
juice of the elder-berry.
+
When you make elder juice let your berries be fully ripe, and all
the stalks (which are very many) be clean picked from them; then if
you have a press for drawing all the juice from them; have ready four
hair cloths somewhat broader than your press, and lay one layer above
another having a hair cloth betwixt every layer, which must be laid
very thin, and pressed first a little, and then more, till your press be
drawn as close as you can; then take out the berries, and press all
you have in the like manner; then take your pressed berries, and break
out all the lumps, and put them into an open-headed vessel, and put
upon them as much liquor as will just cover them, and let them infuse
so for seven or eight days, and put your best juice into a cask proper
for it to be kept in, and put one gallon of malt spirits, not rectified,
to every twenty gallons of elder juice, which will effectually preserve it
from becoming sour for two years at least,
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To make Elder Juice.
!
Spirituous Tinctures, or Infusions.
Rectified spirit of wine is the direct menstruum of the resins and es
sential oils of vegetables, and totally extracts these active principles
from sundry vegetable matters, which yield them to water either not at
all, or only in part.
It dissolves likewise the sweet saccharine matter of vegetable, and
generally those parts of animal bodies, in which their peculiar smelle
and tastes reside.
F
The virtues of many vegetables are extracted almost equally by wa-
ter and vitrified spirit; but in the watery and spirituous tinctures of
them there is this difference, that the active parts, in the watery ex-
tractions, are blended with a large proportion of inert gummy matter,
on which their solubility in this menstruum in great measure depends,
while rectified spirit extracts them almost pure from gum. Hence,
when the spirituous tinctures are mixed with watery liquors, a part of
what the spirit had taken up from the subject generally separates and
subsides, on account of its having been freed from that matter, which
being blended with it in the original vegetable, made it soluble in wa-
ter. This, however, is not universal; for the active parts of some ve
getables, when extracted by rectified spirit, are not precipitated by wi
ter, being almost equally dissoluble in both menstrua.
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Rectified spirit may be tinged by vegetables of all colours, except
blue. The leaves of plants in general, which give out but little of their
natural colour to watery liquors, communicate to spirit the whole of
their green tincture, which, for the most part, proves elegant, though
not very durable.
General Rules for Extracting Tinctures.
1. The vegetable substances ought to be moderately and newly dried,
unless they are expressly ordered otherwise. They should likewise be
cut and bruised before the menstruum is poured on them.
2. If the digestion be performed in balneo, the whole success de-
pends upon a proper management of the fire; it ought to be all along
gentle, unless the hard texture of the subject should require it to be
augmented; in which case the heat may be increased so as to make the
menstruum boil a little towards the end of the process.
•
3. Very large circulatory vessels ought to be employed for this pur-
pose, which should be 'heated before they are luted together. Circula-
tory vessels are those which are so contrived, and of such a height, that
the vapour, which arises during the digestion, may be cooled and con-
densed in the upper part, and fall down again into the liquor below;
by these means the dissipation, both of the spirit and of the volatile parts
of the ingredients, is prevented. They are generally composed of two
long-necked matrasses, or bolt heads; the mouth of one of which is to
be inserted into that of the other, and the juncture secured by a piece
of wet bladder.
The use of heating the vessels is to expel a part of the air, which
otherwise, rarifying in the process, would endanger bursting them or
blowing off the uppermost matrass. A single matrass with a long
neck, or with a glass pipe inserted into its mouth, is more commodious
than the double vessel.
4. The vessel is to be frequently shaken during the digestion.
5. All tinctures should be suffered to settle before they are committed
either to the filtre or strainer.
6. In the tinctures (and distilled spirits likewise) designed for inter-
nal use, no other spirit, drawn from malt, molasses, or other fermented
matter, is to be used, than that expressly prescribed.
7. Resins and resinous gums yield tinctures more successfully, if, af-
ter being ground into powder, they be mixed with some white sand,
well washed and dried, which will prevent their running into lumps by
the heat. If the powders prescribed be sufficient for this purpose, such
an addition is unnecessary.
Bitter Tincture.
Take of gentian root, two ounces; yellow rind of Seville orange peel,
dried, one ounce; lesser cardamom seeds, freed from the husks, half an
ounce; proof spirit, two pints; digest without heat, and strain off the
tincture.
This is a very elegant spirituous bitter. As the preparation is de-
signed for keeping, lemon peel is an excellent ingredient in the watery
bitter infusions.
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Stomachic Elixir.
Take of gentian root, two ounces; Curaçoa oranges, one ounce; Vir-
ginian snake root, half an ounce; cochineal, half a drachm; French
brandy, two pints.
Let them steep for three days, and then filtre the elixir.
*
Method of Preserving Grapes.
Take a cask or barrel, inaccessible to the external air, and put into it
a layer of bran, dried in an oven, or of ashes well dried and sifted.
Upon this, place a layer of grapes well cleaned, and gathered in the af
ternoon of a dry day, before they are perfectly ripe, Proceed thus with
alternate layers of bran and grapes, till the barrel is full, taking care
that the grapes do not touch each other, and to let the last layer be of
bran; then close the barrel, so that the air may not be able to penetrate,
which is an essential point. Grapes, thus packed, will keep nine or
even twelve months. To restore them to their freshness, cut the end
of the stalk of each bunch of grapes, and put that of white grapes into
white wine, and that of the black grapes into red wine, as you would
put flowers into water, to revive or keep them fresh.
Singular and Simple Manner of Preserving Apples from the Effects of
Frost, in North America.
Apples being produced most abundantly in North America, and form-
ing an article of chief necessity in almost every family, the greatest care
is constantly taken to protect them from frost at the earliest commence-
ment of the winter season; it being well known, that apples, if left un-
protected, are inevitably destroyed by the first frost which occurs. This
desirable object, during their long and severe winters, is said to be com-
pletely effected, by only throwing over them a thin linen cloth before
the approach of frost, when the fruit beneath is never injured, how se-
vere soever the winter may happen to prove. Yet apples are there
usually kept in a small apartment immediately beneath the roof of the
house, particularly appropriated to that purpose, and where there is ne-
ver any fire. This is a fact so well known, that the Americans are as-
tonished it should appear at all wonderful: and they have some rea-
son to be so, when it is considered that, throughout Germany, the same
method of preserving fruit is universally practised; from whence, pro-
bably, it made its way to North America. It appears, that linen cloth
only is used for this purpose; woollen cloth, in particular, having been
experienced to prove ineffectual. There seems abundant reason to be-
lieve, that even potatoes might be protected from frost by some such
simple expedient.
Remark. This article,, as well as the preceding (to which the prin-
ciple seems very analogous), merits high consideration; and for the
same important reason, its capability of conducing to the universal be-
nefit of mankind, and the numerous animals under our protection.
To keep Oranges and Lemons.
Take small sand and make it very dry; after it is cold put a quantity
of it into a clean vessel; then take your oranges, and set a laying of
them in the same, the stalk end downwards, so that they do not touch
each other, and strew in some of the sand, as much as will cover them
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two inches deep; then set your vessel in a cold place, and you will find
fruit in high preservation at the end of several months.
your
To make an excellent Smelling Bottle.
Take an equal quantity of sal-ammoniac and unslacked lime, pound
them separate, then mix and put them in a bottle to smell to. Before
you put in the above, drop two or three drops of the essence of burga-
mot into the bottle, then cork it close. A drop or two of ether, added
to the same will greatly improve it.
To make Milk of Roses:
To one pint of rose water, add one ounce of oil of almonds, and ten
drops of the oil of tartar.
N. B. Let the oil of tartar be poured in last.
Wash for the Skin.
Four ounces of potass, four ounces of rose water, two ounces of
pure brandy, and two ounces of lemon juice; put all these into two
quarts of water, and when you wash, put a table spoonful or two of
the mixture into the bason of water you intend washing in.
Method of extracting Essences from Flowers.
Procure a quantity of the petals of any flowers which have an agree»
able fragrance; card thin layers of cotton, which dip into the finest
Florence or Lucca oil; sprinkle a small quantity of fine salt on the
flowers, and lay them, a layer of cotton, and a layer of flowers, until
an earthen vessel or a wide-mouthed glass bottle is full. Tie the top
close with a bladder, then lay the vessel in a south aspect to the heat
of the sun, and in fifteen days, when uncovered, a fragrant oil may
be squeezed away from the whole mass, little inferior (if that flower is
made use of) to the dear and highly valued Otto or Odour of Roses.
To make the Quintessence of Lavender, or other Aromatic Herb.
Take off the blossoms from the stalks, which must be cut fresh at
sun-rising in warm weather; spread the blossoms on a white linen
cloth, and lay them in the shade for twenty-four hours; after which,
stamp or bruise them; then put them, immersed in warm water, into
the still, near a fire, and let them infuse for the space of five or six
hours, so closely covered that nothing may exhale from it; after which
time, take off the covering, and quickly put on the helm, and lute it
carefully. You must, in the beginning, draw over half the quantity
of the water you put in. If you take away the receiver, you will see
the quintessence on the surface of the water, which you may easily se-
parate from it. Then put the distilled water back again, and distil it
over again, till there appear no more of the quintessence on the water.
You may distil this water four or five times over, according as you
perceive the quintessence upon it.
The best distilling utensils for this work are those for the balneum
mariæ, or sand bath; meanwhile you may, after the common method,
distil the ingredients on an open fire. But if you intend to make
quintessence for waters, you may make use of common salt, in order to
extract the more quintessence of any blossom.
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BREWING AND DISTILLING.
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Take four pounds of blossoms of any aromatic plant, and infuse in
it six quarts of water. If you use salt to bring your infusion to a fer-
ment, add half a pound of common salt to it.
To obtain Aromatic Oils from the Pellicle which envelopes the Seeds of
the Laurus Sassafras, and Laurus Benzoin.
The method of obtaining these oils is, to boil the pellicle which sur-
rounds the seeds of the sassafras and benjamin-tree in water; when
they float upon its surface, from which they may be skimmed with a
spoon.
That of the sassafras differs materially from the oil obtained from
the bark of the root of this tree. Its aroma is different, it is much
lighter, and it congeals in a higher degree of heat.
The oil of the benzoin tree is a delightful aromatic, is very inflam-
mable, and might be used as a spice in food, and in all those diseases
in which the aromatic oils are useful. It has been tried with success,.
as an external application, in a case of severe chronic rheumatism. One
half pound of the pellicle of the seeds will yield several ounce-mea-
sures of oil.
To preserve Aromatic and other Herbs.
The boxes and drawers in which vegetable matters are kept should
not impart to them any smell or taste; and more certainly to avoid this
they should be lined with paper. Such as are volatile, of a delicate
texture, or subject to suffer from insects, must be kept in well covered
glasses. Fruits and oily seeds, which are apt to become rancid, must
be kept in a cool and dry, but by no means in a warm and moist place.
Another Receipt for Lavender Water.
Put two pounds of lavender pips into two quarts of water, put them
into a cold still, and make a slow fire under it; distil it off very slowly,
and put it into a pot till you have distilled all your water; then clean
your still well out, put your lavender water into it, and distil it off
slowly again; put it into bottles, and cork it well.
Another.
Take a pint of the best rectified spirits of wine, a shilling's worth
of oil of lavender, sixpennyworth of essence of ambergris; mix these
altogether, and keep it close from the air, then draw it off for use.—
Let it stand till it is fine before you draw it off.
To make Rose Water.
Gather roses on a dry day, when they are full blown; pick off the
leaves, and to a peck put a quart of water, then put them into a cold
still, make a slow fire under it; the slower you distil it the better it will
be; then bottle it, and in two or three days you may cork it.
To make Eau de Luce, and its Use.
Take of spirit of wine one ounce, spirit of sal-ammoniacum four
ounces, oil of amber one scruple, white Castile soap ten grains. Digest
the soap and oil in the spirits of wine, add the ammoniacuin, and shake
them well together.
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To make Hungary Water.
Take a quantity of the flowers of rosemary, put them into a glass
retort, and pour in as much spirit of wine as the flowers can imbibe;
dilute the retort well, and let the flowers macerate for six days, then
distil it in a sand heat.
To make Otto (or Odour) of Roses.
Pick the leaves of roses from all seeds and stalks, put them in a clear
earthen vessel, glazed within, or a clean wooden vessel. Pour spring
water on them, so as to cover them; set the vessel in the sun in the
morning at rising, and leave it in the sun-shine till sun-set; then take
them into the house; repeat this for six or seven days, and in three or
four days there will be a fine yellow oily matter on the surface of the
water; and, in two or three days more, there will appear a scum upon
the surface, which is the otto of roses. This may be taken up with
cotton, and squeezed into a phial with the finger and thumb.
Remark. It is suspected that there is some mistake in this receipt,
and it has passed to the public through very many hands. It was pub-
lished in the Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, on the
authority of Dr. D. Monro, of London, who received it from Major
Mackenzie, who again got it from an officer of his corps, whose name
is not mentioned.
The account given by Polier in the Transactions of the Bengal So-
ciety is very different. It is needless to detail it, for it is exactly the
process of an European distiller: cohobation on fresh leaves, and ex-
posure to slight cold, to congeal the essential oil, which is skimmed off
or taken up by cotton, and squeezed into phials.
It is conjectured, that in the manufacture or production of otto, which
is thought to be profitable in the East, and the reverse in Europe, the
difference cannot be in the price of labour, or similar circumstances,
which European skill would more than compensate; but in the fact,
that there is a market for rose-water in the East, from the quantity
used in washing hands, sprinkling rooms and garments, and similar
purposes, to which the demand of the European apothecary and con-
fectioner is comparatively insignificant. It is but a thin film of con-
gealed essential oil which a great quantity of rose water will afford;
and after it is taken off, the water is still very good. In India it may
be sold; in Europe it is waste; for to employ it in fresh distillations
is clearly to waste a manufactured article.
To prepare Aromatic Vinegar.
Take of common vinegar any quantity; mix a sufficient quantity of
powdered chalk, or common whitening, with it, to destroy the acidity.
Then let the white matter subside, and pour off the insipid, superna-
tant liquor; afterwards let the white powder be dried, either in the open
air, or by a fire. When it is dry, pour upon it sulphuric acid (oil of
vitriol), as long as white acid fumes continue to ascend. Stone vessels
are the properest to be used on this occasion, as the acid will not act
upon them. This product is the acetic acid, known in the shops by
the name of aromatic vinegar. The simplicity and cheapness of this
process points it out as a very useful and commodious one for purifying
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759

prisons, hospital-ships, and houses, where contagion is presumed or
suspected, the white aci fumes diffusing themselves quickly around.
If any one is desirous of obtaining the acid in a liquid state, the ap-
paratus of Nooth presents a convenience for the purpose. It must of
course be collected in water. But the muriatic acid is cheaper, and
much more expansible.
Preparation of the Greek Water (or the Solution of Silver, for the con-
verting red or light-coloured Hair into a deep Brown.)
Take silver filings, and dissolve them in spirit of nitre. The spirit
of nitre and the silver being put in a matrass, must be placed, first, in
a gentle sand-heat, and afterwards removed where the fluid may be
made to boil for a short time. Being taken out of the sand-heat, while
yet hot, add as much water as may have evaporated during the boiling;
and, when the solution is grown cold, decant off the clear fluid from the
sediment, if there be any, and the undissolved part of the silver filings;
which may be dissolved afterwards, by adding more spirit of nitre, and
repeating the same treatment.
(Lunar caustic dissolved in water is precisely the same. It is sold
by the chemists for about half-a-crown an ounce the salt is more pure
and cheaper than it can be made in small quantities.)
The solution of silver, thus obtained, with common water, is the
Greek water, used for turning red or light coloured hair to brown. Its
efficacy may be greatly improved by washing the hair before the ap-
plication of the water, with common water, in which some soda has
Leen dissolved. The proportion may be an ounce and an half of pure
soda to a pint of the water; but it requires a frequent repetition to
change the colour of the hair; and care must be taken that a sufficient
quantity of water be added to dilute the solution, to prevent its destroy-
ing the hair, or, perhaps, excoriating the skin by its causticity. At
least douhle the quantity of water should be therefore added.
The hair must first be cleaned from powder and pomatum, with a
small tooth comb, and then washed with the soda and water till all
grease, pomatum, &c. be got out; then use the Greek water in the fol-
lowing manner, first shaking the bottle: Take as much hair as can
conveniently be wetted, and with a bit of sponge, tied on a little stick
dipped in the Greek water, wet the hair well, and so proceed till all is
wetted; let it dry by sun, air, or fire, before you repeat it, which must
be done four times, and must afterwards be washed with the soda and
water, all which may easily be done in eight hours. A cloth should be
put on the shoulders, and do not let the Greek water touch the skin,
or as little as possible. To make yourself expert, first try, according to
the above directions, to dye a lock of hair that is not growing on the
head; and make the Greek water stronger or weaker, according as you
find it necessary.
A more convenient Dye for the Hair.
The defect of the preceding composition is, that it stains the skin as
well as the hair-this inconvenience, does not attend the following pre-
paration :
Into a glass phial or a porcelain or clean-glazed earthen-ware vessel,
filled with strong clear lime water, put a little litharge in fine powder.
The lime water will dissolve a portion of the litharge in the cold, and
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a greater quantity by the application of a boiling heat. When the so-
lution is complete, pour it into a bottle, and keep it stopped. More
lime water may be put to the remaining litharge. By evaporation in a
retort, the solution is concentrated, and yields very small transparent
crystals, about as soluble in water as lime.

It blackens the hair and the nails; but as it does not effect the colour
of the skin, nor of animal oils, it may be applied every time that the
face is washed, or the hair combed. It is decomposed by the sulphats
of alkalies and sulphurated hydrogen gas.
British Champaigne.
7
Take gooseberries before they are ripe, crush them with a mallet in
a wooden bowl, and to every gallon of fruit put a gallon of water; let
it stand two days, stirring it well; squeeze the mixture well with your
hands through a hop-sieve; then measure your liquor, and to every
gallon put three pounds and a half of loaf sugar; mix it well in the tub,
and let it stand one day: put a bottle of the best brandy in the cask;
leave the cask open five or six weeks, taking off the scum as it rises;
then make it up, and let it stand one year in the barrel before bottled.
N. B. One pint of brandy is put to seven gallons of liquor.
To make Koumiss, a valuable Wine of the Tartars.
Take of fresh mare's milk, of one day, any quantity; add to it a
sixth part water, and pour the mixture into a wooden vessel; use then,
as a ferment, an eighth-part of the sourest cow's milk that can be got;
but at any future preparation, a small portion of old koumiss will better
answer the purpose of souring. Cover the vessel with a thick cloth,
and set it in a place of moderate warmth; leave it at rest twenty-four
hours at the end of which time the milk will have become sour, and
a thick substance will be gathered on its top; then, with a stick, made
at the lower end in the manner of a churn´staff, beat it till the thick
substance above-mentioned be blended intimately with the subjacent
fluid. In this situation leave it again at rest for twenty-four hours more;
after which, pour it into a higher and narrower vessel, resembling a
churn, where the agitation must be repeated as before, till the liquor
appear to be perfectly homogeneous; and in this state it is called kou-
miss; of which the taste ought to be a pleasant mixture of sweet and
sour. Agitation must be employed every time before it is used. This
wine operates as a cooling antiseptic, an useful stimulant, cordial, and
tonic, and may prove a valuable article of nourishment; and it has one
excellence, perhaps not the least, that the materials from which it is
prepared are cheap, and the mode of preparation simple.

*
Another Orange Wine.
Take the expressed juice of eight Seville oranges; and, having one
gallon of water wherein three pounds of sugar have been boiled, boil
the water and sugar for twenty minutes; skim constantly, and when
cooled to a proper heat for fermentation, add the juice, and the outer
rind of the juice (fruit) shaved off. Put all into a barrel, stir it fre-
quently for two or three days, and then closely bung it for six months-
before it is bottled.
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Excellent American Wine.
The following receipt was originally communicated to the public by
Joseph Cooper, Esq. of New Jersey, North America :

"I put a quantity of the comb, from which the honey had been
drained, into a tub, and added a barrel of cyder, immediately from the
press; this mixture was well stirred, and left for one night. It was
then strained before a fermentation took place; and boney was added,
until the strength of the liquor was sufficient to bear an egg. It was
then put into a barrel; and after the fermentation commenced, the cask
was filled every day, for three or four days, that the filth might work
out of the bung-hole. When the fermentation moderated, I put the
bung in loosely, lest stopping it tight might cause the cask to burst.
At the end of five or six weeks, the liquor was drawn off into a tub;
and the whites of eight eggs, well beat up, with a pint of clean sand,
were put into it: I then added a gallon of cyder spirit; and after mix-
ing the whole well together, I returned it into the cask, which was
well cleaned, bunged it tight, and placed it in a proper situation for
racking off, when fine. In the month of April following, I drew it off
into kegs, for use; and found it equal, in my opinion, to almost any
foreign wine: in the opinion of many judges, it was superior.
"This success has induced me to repeat the experiment for three
years; and I am persuaded, that, by using clean honey, instead of the
comb, as above described, such an improvement might be made, as
would enable the citizens of the United States to supply themselves
with a truly federal and wholesome wine, which would not cost a
quarter of a dollar per gallon, were all the ingredients procured at the
market price; and would have this peculiar advantage over every other
wine, hitherto attempted in this country, that it contains no foreign
mixture, but is made from ingredients produced on our own farms."
1
Aromatic Tincture.
Take of cinnamon, six drachms; lesser cardamom-seeds, freed from
husks, three drachms; long pepper and ginger, of each two drachms;
proof spirit, two pints. Digest without heat, and then strain off the
tincture.
This is a very warm aromatic, too much so to be given without dilu-
tion. A tea-spoonful or two may be taken in wine, or any other conve-
nient vehicle, în languors, weakness of the stomach, flatulencies, and
similar complaints.
•
The stomachic tincture, described hereafter, is similar in intention to
this, but contrived less hot of the spices, that it may be taken by itself:
Take of cinnamon, six drachms; lesser cardamom-seeds, one ounce ;
garden angelica-root, three drachms; long pepper, two drachms; proof
spirit, two pounds and a half.
Macerate seven days, and filtre.
This preparation is improved from the preceding editions of the phar-
macopiea, by the omission of some articles either superfluous or foreign-
to the intention; galangal, gentian, zedoary, and bay berries. As now
reformed, it is a sufficiently elegant warm aromatic
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Of making Compounds or Cordials.
*The perfection of this grand branch of distillery depends upon the
observation of the following general rules, easy to be observed and
practised.
1. The artist must always be careful to use a well cleansed spirit, or
one freed from its own essential oil, as were before observed.
For as a compound cordial is nothing more than a spirit impregnated
with the essential oil of the ingredients, it is necessary that the spirit
should have deposited its own.
*
2. Let the time of previous digestion be proportioned to the tenacity
of the ingredients, or the ponderosity of their oil. Thus cloves and cin-
namon require a longer digestion before they are distilled than calamus
aromaticus, or orange-peel. Sometimes cohobation (as subsequently
explained) is necessary; for instance, in making the strong cinnamon
cordial, because the essential oil of cinnamon is so extremely ponderous,
that it is difficult to bring over the helm with the spirit without coho-
bation.
3. Let the strength of the fire be proportioned to the ponderosity of
the oil intended to be raised with the spirit. Thus, for instance, the
strong cinnamon cordial requires a much greater degree of fire than
that from lax vegetables, as mint, balm, &c.
4. Let a due proportion of the finest parts of the essential oil be united
with the spirit; the grosser and less fragrant parts of the oil not giving
the spirit so agreeable a flavour, and at the same time renders it thick
and unsightly. This may in a great measure be effected by leaving out
the feints, and making up to proof with fine soft water in their stead.
1
These four rules, carefully observed, will render this extensive part
of distillation far more perfect than it is at present. Nor will there be
any occasion for the use of burnt alum, white of eggs, isinglass, &c. to
fine down cordials, for they will presently be fine, sweet, and pleasant
tasted, without any further trouble.
Receipt for Sixteen Gallons of Strong Cinnamon Cordial.
Cinnamon is a very useful and elegant aromatic bark, of a fragrant
delightful smell, and sweet pungent taste, with some degree of astrin-
gency; it corroborates the viscera, and proves of great service in als
kinds of alvine fluxes, and immoderate discharges from the uterus ; it il
cordial and stomachic.
·
Take eight pounds of fine cinnamon, bruised; seventeen gallons of
clear rectified spirit, and two gallons of water. Put them into your
still, and digest them twenty-four hours with a gentle heat; after
which, draw off sixteen gallons by a pretty strong heat.
#

I have ordered a much larger quantity of cinnamon than is common
among distillers; because when made in the manner above directed, it
is justly looked upon as one of the noblest cordials of the shops; but
when made in the common way, of two pounds to twenty gallons of
spirit, as corne have ordered, is only an imposition on the buyer.
Receipt for Ten Gallons of Hungary Water.
Rosemary, the principal ingredients in Hungary water, has always
been a favourite shrub in medicine; it is full of volatile parts, as ap-
pears by its taste and smell. It is a very valuable cephalic, and is good
BREWING AND DISTILLING.
703
氯
​+44
in all disorders of the nerves; in hysteric and hypochondriac cases, in
palsies, apoplexies, and vertigoes. Some suppose that the flowers pos-
sess the virtues of the whole plant in a more exalted degree than any
other part; but the flowery tops, leaves, and husks, together with the
flowers themselves, are much fitter for all purposes than the flowers
alone.
Take of the flowery top, with the leaves and flowers of rosemary,
fourteen pounds; rectified spirit, eleven gallons.and a half; water, one
gallon; distil off ten gallons with a moderate fire. If you perform this
operation in balneum mariæ, your Hungary water will be much finer
than if drawn by the common alembic.

This is called Hungary water, from its being first made for a princess
of that kingdom.
Some add lavender flowers, and others florentine orange-root; but
what is most esteemed is made with rosemary only.
Receipt for Ten Gallons of Simple Lavender Water:
Take fourteen pounds of lavender flowers, ten gallons and a half of
rectified spirit of wine, and one gallon of water; draw off ten gallons
with a gentle fire, or, which is much better, in balneum mariæ.
Both the Hungary and lavender water may be made at any time of
the year, without distillation.
J
Receipt for making Three' Gallons of Compound Lavender Water.
Take of lavender water above described, two gallons; of Hungary
water, one gallon; cinnamon and nutmegs, of each three ounces; and
of red saunders, one ounce; digest the whole three days in a gentle
heat, and then filtre it for use. Some add saffron, musk, and amber-
gris, of each half a scruple; but those are now generally omitted.
Receipt for Ten Gallons of Cardamom Cordial.
The seed from whence this cordial takes its name, is called by bota-
nists cardamomum minus, or the lesser cardamom; to distinguish it from
the cardamomum majus, or grains of paradise.
The lesser cardam is a small short fruit, or membraneous capsule, of
a triagonal form, about a third of an inch long, and swelling out thick
about the middle; beginning small and narrow from the stalk, and ter-
minating in a small but obtuse point at the end. It is striated all over
very deeply with longitudinal furrows, and consists of a thin but very
tough membrane, of a fibrous texture, and pale brown colour, with a
faint cast of red.
1
When the fruit is thoroughly ripe, this membrane opens at the three
edges all the way, and shows that it is internally divided by three thin
membranes into three cells, in each of which is an arrangement of seeds,
separately lodged in two series. The seeds are of an irregular angular
figure, rough, and of a dusky brown colour on the surface, with a mix-
ture of yellowish and reddish, and of a white colour within. They
have not much smell, unless first bruised, when they are much like
camphire under the nose. They are of an acid, aromatic, and fiery hot
taste. They should be chosen sound, close shut on all sides, and full of
seeds of a good smell and of an acrid aromatic taste.
Take of the lesser cardamom seeds, husked, two pounds and a half;
of clean proof spirit, ten gallons and a half; and of water one gallon;
2
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}
*
वै
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+
***
761
BREWING AND DISTILLING.
draw off ten gallons by a gentle heat. You may either dulcify it or not
with fine sugar, at pleasure.
This water is carminative, assists digestion, and is good to strengthen
the head and stomach. A tincture or infusion is still better.
Receipt for a Gallon of Jamaica Pepper Water.
Jamaica pepper is the fruit of a tall tree growing in the mountainous
parts of Jamaica, where it is much cultivated, because of the great pro-
fit arising from the cured fruit, sent in large quantities annually into
Europe.
Take of Jamaica pepper, half a pound; water, two gallons and a
half; draw off one gallon with a pretty brisk fire. The oil of this fruit
is very ponderous, and therefore this water is best made in an alembic.
Receipt for Five Quarts of Compound Gentian Water.
Gentian root, sliced, three pounds; leaves and flowers of the lesser
centaury, of each eight ounces; infuse the whole in six quarts of proof
spirits, and one quart of water; and draw off the water till the feints
begin to rise. This water is frequently used as being a very fine sto
machic.
Distilled Spirituous Waters.
By distilled spirits are understood such as are drawn with a spirit
that has been previously rectified, or which is reduced nearly to that
strength in the operation; by spirituous waters, those in which the
spirit is only of the proof strength, or contains an admixture of about
an equal measure of water. These last have been usually called com
pound waters, even when distilled from one ingredient only; as those
on the other hand, which are drawn by common water, though from a
number of ingredients, are named simple; the title simplex, here relat
ing not to simplicity in respect of composition, but to the vehicles be-
ing plain water.
General Rules for the Distillation of Spirituous Waters.
1. The plants and their parts ought to be moderately and newly
dried, except such as are ordered to be fresh gathered.
2. After the ingredients have been steeped in the spirit for the time
prescribed, add as much water as will be sufficient to prevent a burnt
flavour, or rather more.
3. The liquor which comes over first in the distillation is by some
kept by itself, under the title of spirit; and the other runnings, which
prove milky, fined down by art. But it is better to mix all the run-
nings together, without fining them, that the waters may possess the
virtues of the plant entire; which is a circumstance to be more regarded
than their fineness or sightliness.
4. In the distillation of these waters, the genuine brandy obtained
from wine is directed.
Where this is not to be had, take, instead of that proof spirit, half its
quantity of a well rectified spirit, prepared from any other fermented
liquors. In this steep the ingredients, and then add spring water
enough, both to make up the quantity ordered to be drawn off, and to
prevent burning.
!

BREWING AND DISTILLING.
765
By this method, more elegant waters may be obtained than when any
of the common proof spirits, even that of wine itself, are made use of.
All vinous spirits receive some flavour from the matter from which they
are extracted; and of this flavour, which adheres chiefly to the phlegm
or watery part, they cannot be divested without separating the phlegm,
and reducing them to the rectified state of spirits of wine.
*
Receipt for Ten Gallons of Lemon Water.
The peel of the lemon, the part used in making this water, is a very
grateful bitter aromatic, and on that account very serviceable in repair-
ing and strengthening the stomach.
Take dried lemon-peel four pounds, clean proof spirit ten gallons and
a half, and one gallon of water. Draw off ten gallons by a gentle fire.
Some dulcify lemon water, but by that means its virtues, as a stomachic,
are greatly impaired.

Receipt for One Gallon of Jessamine Water.
There are several species of jessamine, but that sort intended here is
what gardeners call Spanish White, or Catalonian jessamine. This is
one of the most beautiful of all the species of jessamine.
Take of Spanish jessamine flowers, twelve ounces; essence of floren
tine citron, or burgamot, eight drops; fine proof spirit, one gallon;
water, two quarts. Digest two days in a close vessel, after which draw
off one gallon, and dulcify with fine loaf sugar.
Receipt for One Gallon of Spirit of Scurvygrass.
Scurvygrass fresh gathered and bruised, fifteen pounds; horse-radish
root, six pounds; rectified spirit of wine, one gallon; and three pints
of water; digest the whole in a close vessel two days, and draw off a
gallon with a gentle fire.
This is of great service in all scorbutic cases, and is given from
twenty to eighty drops.
1
Antiscorbutic Water.
Take of the leaves of water cresses, garden and sea scurvygrass, and
brook-lime, of each twenty handfuls of pine tops, germander, hore-
hound, and the lesser centaury, of each sixteen handfuls; of the roots
of bryony and sharp pointed dock, of each six pounds; of mustard seed,
one pound and a half. Digest the whole. in ten gallons of proof spirit,
and two gallons of water, and draw off by a gentle fire.
This is a fine water for the purposes mentioned in the title, against
scorbutic disorders. As also in tremblings, and disorders of the nerves.
Profits upon a Tun of Gin.
A tun of fine gin, strength 1 to 7 over proof
When lowered to proof, gives water
17
Which, added together, make
and it is further reduced to 1 in 5 below hydrometer
proof, with water, which gives
252 gallons
36
288 proof;
57
Total 345 gallona
1

יז *
*
766
· · BREWING AND DISTILLING.
This done, let a pound of alum be just covered with water, and dis-
solved by boiling; rummage the above well together, and pour in the
alum, and the whole will be fine in a few hours.
To ascertain the true cost, after the business is done, supposing the
price you give for the tun of 252 gallons, at 14s. per gal-
lon, is
£176 8 0
252 gallons, reduced to 1 in 5 under proof, gives 345
gallons at 128. per gallon
Profit on 345 gallons
207 0 0
176 · 8 0
£ 30 12 0
To make Ten Gallons of Gin Bitters.
Take ten gallons of common gin, spirits of wine half a pint, in which
dissolve the following essential oils, with the assistance of a little well
dried loaf sugar, finely powdered, viz. essence of lemon and orange peel,
of each an ounce ; oil of wormwood, a quarter of an ounce; orange-peel
dried, one pound; let them digest without heat for fourteen or fifteen
days, then draw off for use as wanted; taking care not to disturb the
goods, by stirring the vessel they are made in.
This will be a most pleasant cheap bitter, equally wholesome, and as
good as many that are much dearer.
This is only fit to be taken with gin. The same ingredients, and
rectified malt spirits, or molasses' spirits, will either of them make a bit-
ter of more general use.
To make Two Gallons of Rum Shrub.
Take one gallon of rum, at one in eight: of lemon and orange juice,
each one pint; one quart of orange wine; and two pounds of loaf
sugar; one orange and lemon peel; and fill up your two gallon vessel
with water, cork it up loosely, and let it stand until fine, then cork it
down close.
To make Two Gallons of Brandy Shrub.
Take one gallon and a pint of brandy, one in eight; lemon and
orange juice, of each a pint; four orange and two lemon peels; sugar,
two pounds; compound essence of orange and lemon peel, a small tea-
spoonful; make up with fair water, and let it stand till fine. Be care-
ful in drawing it off not to shake the vessel.
To make Twenty Gallons of Peppermint Cordial.
Take thirteen gallons of rectified spirits, one in five under hydro-
meter proof; twelve pounds of loaf sugar; one pint of spirit of wine,
that will fire gunpowder; fifteen pennyweights Troy of oil of pep-
permint; water, as much as will fill up the cask, which should be set
up on end, after the whole being well roused, and a cock for drawing
off placed in it.
To make up the above.
Powder two or three ounces of sugar in a brass mortar, on which
pour the oil of peppermint, and beat it into a thin paste, stirring the
sugar and oil with a knife, scraping what is in the pestle and mortar
together, that the oil may be uniformly incorporated with the sugar ;
**

BREWING AND DISTILLING.
767
then add the spirit of wine, and blend them well together; have the
remainder of your sugar ready dissolved in four or five gallons of the
› water to be used for making up; rummage, or rouse, the whole well
together with a paddle-staff, or rouser; and lastly, fill up the cask with
pure clean water; dissolve one ounce and a half of powdered alum in
the making up water, boiling over the fire; and when blood warm,
add it to fill up the cask, in which place a cock, and let it stand two
or three days, in which time it will be fit for use.
If the essential oil is of your own making, or such as you can de-
pend on, it will require nothing more than agitation,
}
→
To make Twenty Gallons of Aniseed Cordial.
Take fourteen gallons of spirits, one in six; a pint of spirit of wine,
strong as the former; from six to eight pounds of loaf sugar; one ounce
and an half of oil of aniseed; two ounces of finely powdered alum ;
dissolve the sugar in one part of the water used for making up, and
your alum in the remainder; and proceed as directed in the making up
peppermint cordial. Aniseed cordial does not bear to be reduced much
below one in five, as part of the oil will separate when too much low-
ered, and render the goods unsightly.
To make Two Gallons of Nauyau.
One gallon and an half of French brandy, one in five; six ounces of
the best fresh prunes; two ounces of celery; three ounces of the ker-
nels of apricots, nectarines, and peaches; and one ounce of bitter al-
monds; all gently bruised; essence of orange-peel, and essence of le-
mon peel, of each two pennyweights, killed in the same manner as the
oil of peppermint; half a pound of loaf sugar; let the whole stand ten
days or a fortnight; then draw off, and add to the clear Nauyau as
much rose water as will make it up to two gallons, which will be about
half a gallon.
To make Two Gallons of Cinnamon Cordial.
Take two pennyweights of oil of cassia-lignea, killed as before men-
tioned, with sugar and spirits of wine; a gallon and an half, at one in
six; cardamum seeds, husked, an ounce; orange and lemon peel dried,
of each an ounce; fine with half a pint of alum water; sweeten to
your palate with loaf sugar, not exceeding two pounds, and make up
two gallons measure with the water you dissolve the sugar in. This is
a very cheap and elegant cinnamon cordial; colour with burnt sugar.
To make Twenty Gallons of Carraway Cordial.
Take an ounce and an half of oil of carraway; twenty drops of cassia-
lignea oil, and five drops of essence of orange peel, and the same
quantity of the essence of lemon; thirteen gallons of spirits, one in
five: eight pounds of loaf sugar; make it up and fine it down, as di-
rected for aniseed.
1
1
To make Twenty Gallons of Citron Cordial.
Infuse fourteen pounds of Smyrna figs, for a week, in twelve gal-
lons of spirits, one in five; draw off, and add to the clear spirituous
infusion essence of orange and lemon, of each an ounce, killed in a
put of spirits of wine; half a pound of dried lemon, and four ounces
}
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768
BREWING AND DISTILLING,
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of orange peel; six or seven pounds of loaf sugar : make up as before,
with fair water.
To make Twenty Gallons of Imperial Ratafia.
In these kingdoms the most compendious way of making the best
ratafia is, by taking three quarters of a pound of the kernels of peaches,
nectarines, and apricots, bruised; three pounds of bitter almonds,
bruised; half a gallon of rectified spirit of wine, in which dissolve half
an ounce of compound essence of ambergris; twelve gallons of pure
molasses spirit, one in four gallons of British Frontiniac wine; and as
many gallons of rose water as will make up the ratafia to twenty gallons;
steep the kernels and almonds for ten days, then draw off for use.
quantity will take ten pounds of loaf sugar to sweeten it; but as some
may not like it so, it had better be sweetened by a few gallons at a time,
as it may be wanted.
This


Receipt for making Red Ratafia.
Take of cherries and gooseberries, of each thirty pounds; mulberries,
seven pounds; raspberries, ten pounds. Pick all these fruits clean from
their stalks, &c. bruise them, and let them stand twelve hours; but do
not suffer them to ferment. Press out the juice, and to every pint add
three ounces of sugar; when the sugar is dissolved, run it through the
filtering bag, and to every five pints of liquor add four pints of clean
proof spirit; together with the same proportion of spirit drawn from
spices.
Different distillers use different quantities of the spirit drawn from
spices. The best method, therefore, is to imitate the flavour most uni-
versally approved of, which may be easily done, by adding a greater or
less proportion of the spiced spirit.
To make the Spicy Spirit.
Take of mace, one pound; nutmegs, four ounces; spirit, three gal-
lons; and draw off the whole in balneum mariæ.
Lovage Cordial, Twenty Gallons.
Take of the fresh roots of lovage, valerian, and celery, and sweet
fennel, each four ounces; of essential oil of carraway and savin, each
one ounce; spirit of wine, one pint; twelve gallons of proof spirits;
loaf
sugar, twelve pounds; steep the roots and seeds in the spirits four-
teen days; and kill, or dissolve, the oils in the spirit of wine, and add
them to the undulcified cordial drawn off from the other ingredients;
dissolve the sugar in the water for making up; fine, if necessary, with
alum.
Nectar, a Twenty Gallon Cask.
A pleasant cordial for those whose stomach cannot bear a stronger,
particularly if taken in the morning, for gently exhilarating the spirits,
and strengthening the animal functions, may be advantageously made
with fifteen gallons of the imperial ratafia, a quarter of an ounce of cas-
sia-oil, and an equal quantity of the oil of carraway seeds, dissolved in
half a pint of spirit of wine, and made up with orange wine, so as to fill
up the cask.
Sweeten, if wanted, by adding a small lump of sugar in the glasa.
EKEWING AND DISTILLING.
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763
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1
1
Receipt for Ten Gallons of Common Usquebaugh by Distillation.
Usquebaugh is a very celebrated cordial, the basis of which is saffron.
There are different ways of making this famous Irish cordial; but the
following are equal to any I have seen:
Take of nutmegs, cloves, and cinnamon, of each two ounces; of the
seeds of anise, carraway, and coriander, each four ounces; liquorice-root,
sliced, half a pound; bruise the seeds and spices, and put them toge-
ther with the liquorice into the still, with eleven gallons of proof spi-
rits, and two gallons of water; distil with a pretty brisk fire till the
feints begin to rise. But as soon as your still begins to work, fasten to
the nose of the worm two ounces of English saffron, tied up in a cloth,
that the liquor may run through it, and extract all its tincture; and, in
order to this, you should often press the saffron with your fingers.
When the operation is finished, dulcify your goods with fine sugar.

•
Receipt for making Ten Gallons of Usquebaugh by Digestion.
Take of raisins, stoned, five pounds; figs, sliced, one pound and a
half; cinnamon, half a pound; nutmegs, three ounces; cloves and
mace, of each one ounce and a half; liquorice, two pounds; saffron,
four ounces; bruise the spices, slice the liquorice, and pull the saffron
in pieces; digest these ingredients eight days in ten gallons of proof
spirit, in a vessel close stopped; then filtre the liquor, and add to it two
gallons of canary wine, and half an ounce of the tincture of ambergris.
Receipt for making Ten Gallons of Royal Usquebaugh by Distillation.
Take of cinnamon, ginger, and coriander seed, each three ounces ;
nutmegs, four ounces and an half; mace, cloves, and cubebs, of each
one ounce and an half. Bruise these ingredients, and put them into an
alembic, with lemon and orange peel, pared off thin, four ounces of
each dried, or double the quantity of fresh peeled, and eleven gallons
of proof spirit and two gallons of water, and distil till the feints begin
to rise; fastening four ounces and an half of English saffron, tied in a
cloth, to the end of the worm, that the liquor may run through it.
.
Take raisins stoned, four pounds and a half; dates, three pounds;
liquorice rod, sliced, two pounds; digest these twelve hours in two
gallons of water; strain out the clear liquor, add it to that obtained by
distillation, and dulcify the whole with fine sugar.
Vinous Spirits.
These spirits are the lightest of almost all known liquors; expressed
vils, which swim upon water, sink in these to the bottom; a measure
which contains ten ounces by weight of water, will hold little more
than eight and a quarter of pure spirit. The uses of vinous spirits, as
menstrua for the virtues of other medicines, we have seen, and in this
place consider only their own.
Pure alcohol coagulates all the fluids of animal bodies, except urine,
and hardens the solid parts; applied externally, it strengthens the vessels,
thickens the juices in them, and thus powerfully restrains hæmorrhages.
It instantly contracts the extremities of the nerves it touches, and de-
prives them of sense and motion, by these means easing them of pain,
but at the same time destroying their use. Hence employing spirituous
·liquors in fomentation (notwithstanding the specious titles of vivifying.
1
A
*
I
1
5 F
770
MISCELLANEOUS.
-
7

7
heating, restoring mobility, resolving, dissipating, and the like, usually
attributed to them) may sometimes be attended with unhappy conse-
quences. These liquors, received undiluted into the stomach, produce
the same effects, thickening the fluid and contracting all the solid parts
which they touch, and destroying, at least for a time, their use and of-
fice: if the quantity be considerable, a palsy or apoplexy follows, which
ends in death. Taken in a small quantity, and duly diluted, they
brace up the fibres, raise the spirits, and promote agility; if further
continued, the senses are disordered, voluntary motion destroyed, and
at length the same inconveniences brought on as before. Vinous spirits,
therefore, in small quantities, and properly diluted, may be applied to
useful purposes in the cure of diseases; whilst in larger ones, or if their
use be long continued, they act as a poison of a particular kind.

4
CHAP. XXIV.
MISCELLANEOUS.
To make Phosphoric Oil.
Pur one part of phosphorus into six of olive oil, and digest them over
a sand heat. The phosphorus will dissolve. It must be kept well
corked.
This oil has the property of being very luminous in the dark, and
yet it has not sufficient heat to burn any thing. If rubbed on the face
and hands, taking care to shut the eyes, the appearance is most hide-
ously frightful; all the parts with which it has been rubbed appear to
be covered with a very luminous lambent flame of a bluish colour, and
the mouth and eyes appear in it as black spots. There is no danger
attending this experiment. The light of it is sufficient to shew the hour
of the night on a watch, by holding it close to the bottle when it is un-
stopped.
•
To make Phosphorated Lime.
Put a few grains of phosphorus into the bottom of a Florence flask,
and fill it up with quick lime. Place it over a lamp till the phosphorus
has sublimed, and is thoroughly mixed with the lime. If any of this
lime be thrown out in the dark, it has the appearance of a shower of
fire, but cannot burn any thing, as the quantity of phosphorus is too
small to produce any sensible heat.
►
To make a Phosphoric Fire Bottle.
Take a very small phial, and put into it a bit of phosphorus as large
as a pea, and fill up the bottle with lime. Fix an iron vessel, as a
shovel, for instance, with common sand, and put it over the fire. Set
the phial in this sand, having loosely stopped it with a cork. Stir about
the ingredients with a wire, and mix them together, taking care that
MISCELLANEOUS.
771
1
!
the phosphorus does not catch fire by too great an access of air. Keep
the bottle in the sand till the phosphorus is thoroughly incorporated
with the lime, when it will be of a reddish yellow.
This bottle is extremely convenient for procuring an instantaneous light
in the dark. For this purpose, nothing more is necessary than to un-
cork the bottle, and to introduce a brimstone match, stirring it about a
little, by which it will catch fire and light.
The bottle must be always kept carefully corked, and opened as sel-
dom as possible.
A more durable kind may be made by uniting together one part of
sulphur with eight of phosphorus. When this is used, a match is in-
troduced into it, and then rubbed upon a bit of cork.
To make Phosphuret of Lime.
Put half an ounce of phosphorus, cut into small bits, into a glass tube
about a foot long, and half an inch in diameter, closed at one end. Fill
up with quick lime grossly powdered, and stop the mouth of the tube
loosely. Heat that part of the tube which contains the lime, over a
chafing dish, till it be red hot; and then apply the heat of a lamp to
the part containing the phosphorus, which will sublime, and mix with
the lime. When cooled, the mixture will be a reddish mass.
+
If phosphuret of lime be dropped into water, air bubbles will be dis-
engaged, which, on bursting at the top, will inflame with small explo-
sions. They consist of phosphorated hydrogen gas.
To make Fulminating Powder.
Triturate in a warm mortar three parts by weight, of nitre, two of
mild vegetable alkali (carbonate of potass), and one of flowers of sul-
phur. A few grains of this laid upon a knife, and held over the candle,
first fuses, and then explodes with a loud report. A drachm of it put
into a shovel, and held over the fire, makes a noïse as loud as à cannon,
and indents the shovel as if it had received a violent blow.
To make Fulminating Mercury.
Dissolve 100 grains of mercury with heat, in a measured ounce
and a half of nitric acid. This solution being poured cold upon
two measured ounces of alcohol, previously introduced into any conve-
nient glass vessel, a moderate heat is to be applied till effervescence is
excited. A white fume then begins to undulate on the surface of the
liquor, and the powder will be gradually precipitated on the cessation
of action. The precipitate is to be immediately collected on a filtre,
well washed with distilled water, and cautiously dried in a heat not ex-
ceeding that of a water bath. The immediate washing of the powder is
material, because it is liable to the re-action of the nitric acid; and
while any of the acid adheres to it, it is very subject to the action of
light. From 100 grains of mercury, about 120 or 130 of the powder
are obtained.
This powder, struck on an anvil with a hammer, explodes with a
stunning disagreeable report ; and with such force as to indent both the
hammer and the anvil. Three or four grains are as much as ought to
be used for such experiments.
1
•
堂
​I
:
772
1
MISCELLANEOUS.
To make the Arbor Dianæ, or Tree of Diana.
Take half an ounce of fine silver, and two drachms of mercury, and
dissolve them separately in a quantity of aquafortis, no longer than
necessary. When the solutions are perfectly made, mix them together,
and pour them into a pint of common water, and stir it about, that the
whole may be well mixed. Keep this preparation in a bottle well cork-
ed. In a glass globe, or other vessel, put the quantity of a small nut
of the amalgam of silver with mercury, and pour three or four ounces
of the above liquor over it. After some hours there arise from the little
globular amalgam small branches, that, by increasing, will form a beau-
tiful kind of shrub, or tree of silver.
To make a Tree of Silver on Glass.
Put a few drops of the solution of silver in aquafortis on a piece of
glass, and having formed a bit of copper or brass wire to represent a
tree with its branches, but flat, so as to lie upon the glass, lay it in the
liquid, and let it remain for an hour or two. A beautiful vegetation
will be perceived all round the wire, which will nearly be covered by
it. This may be preserved by washing it very carefully with water,
and putting another glass over it,
To produce a Tree of Lead.
1
Dissolve an ounce of sugar of lead in a quart of clear water, and put
it into a glass decanter or globe. Then suspend in the solution, near
the top, a small piece of zinc of an irregular shape. Let it stand un-
disturbed for a day, and it will begin to shoot out into leaves, and ap-
parently to vegetate. If left undisturbed for a few days, it will become
extremely beautiful; but it must be moved with great caution.
It may appear to those unacquainted with chemistry, that the piece
of zinc actually puts out leaves; but this is a mistake, for if the zinc
be examined, it will be found nearly unaltered. This phenomenon is
owing to the zinc having a greater attraction for oxygen than the lead
has; consequently, it takes it from the oxyde of lead, which re-appears
in its metallic state.
Arbor Martis, or Tree of Mars..
Dissolve iron nlings in aquafortis moderately concentrated, till the
acid is saturated; then add to it gradually a solution of fixed alkali,
commonly called oil of tartar per deliquium. A strong effervescence
will ensue, and the iron, instead of falling to the bottom of the vessel,
will afterwards rise, so as to cover the sides, forming a multitude of
ramifications heaped one upon the other, which will sometimes pass
over the edge of the vessel, and extend themselves on the outside with
,all the appearance of a plant.
Changing Iron apparently into Copper.
Dissolve some blue vitriol (sulphate of copper) in water, and dip into
the solution a piece of bright iron or steel; in a few seconds it may be
taken out, when it will be apparently turned to copper. This is a de-
ception; the iron is not changed into copper; it is only encrusted over
with that metal, as may be easily seen by removing the copper by a file.
The iron having a stronger attraction for sulphuric acid than copper, it
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takes the acid from the latter, which is consequently precipitated. This
process is used for obtaining the copper from waters near mines that
contain a great quantity of that metal. Iron plates are put into them,
which become incrusted with copper, which is scraped off.

+
To prepare the Precipitate of Cassius.
This beautiful purple colour is extremely useful to enamellers and
glass stainers To make it proceed as follows:
Dissolve some gold in aquaregia (nitro-muriatic acid), and also dis-
solve some pure tin in diluted aquaregia, and pour it into the solution
of gold. A purple powder will be precipitated, which must be col-
lected and washed in distilled water.
A method of Silvering Ivory.
I
Take a slip of ivory, immerse it in a weak solution of nitrate of silver,
and let it remain in it till the ivory has acquired a bright yellow colour;
then take it out of the solution, and immerse it in a tumbler of pure
water, and expose it in the water to the rays of a very bright sun.
After the ivory has been exposed to the sun's rays for about two or
three hours, it becomes black; but on rubbing it a little, the black sur-
face will become changed into one of silver. Although this coating of
silver is extremely thin, yet if the ivory be well impregnated with the
nitrate of silver, the solution will penetrate to a considerable depth; and
as fast as the silver wears off from the surface of the ivory, the nitrate
below being exposed to the light, is converted into silver and the ivory
retains its metallic appearance.
To cover Ribbons with Gold by a Chemical Process.
Let ether stand over phosphorus for some weeks, and some of the
phosphorus will be dissolved. Dissolve also some gold in aquaregia
(nitro-muriatic acid). Dip the ribbon, first, into the nitro-muriatic
solution, and then into the phosphorated ether, and it will be covered
with a firm coating of gold.
The same effect may be produced by exposing the ribbon, after hav-
ing dipped it into the solution of gold, to a current of phosphorated hy-
drogen gas for some days.
To prepare Aurum Musivum.
Aurum musivum is used by japanners, and for many varnished
works, as snuff boxes, coaches, &c. When well managed, it has all the
beautiful appearance of gold in powder.
To make it, amalgamate twelve parts of the purest tin with three
parts of mercury. The amalgam must then be triturated in a stone
mortar with seven parts of flowers of sulphur and three parts of sal-
ammoniac. The mixture is then put into a matrass, and the whole is
exposed to a gentle sand heat, until no more white fumes arise. When,
upon this, the heat is somewhat raised, cinnabar sublimes, together with
some oxygenated muriate of tin; while, at the same time, the remain-
ing tin unites with the remaining sulphur, and forms the aurum mu-
sivum, exhibiting a golden yellow and flaky or scaley matter, of a
metallic lustre.
The main point in this process is the proper regulation of the fire:
774
MISCELLANEOUS,
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when this is too strong, the operation does not succeed; and instead
of aurum musivum, common sulphuret of tin is obtained.
To make an Artificial Volcano.
For this curious experiment, which enables us to assign a very pro-
bable cause for volcanoes, we are indebted to Lemery.
Mix equal parts of pounded sulphur and iron filings, and having
formed the whole into a paste with water, bury a quantity of it, forty
or fifty pounds, for example, at about the depth of a foot below the
surface of the earth. In ten or twelve hours afterwards, if the weather
be warm, the earth will swell up and burst, and flames will issue out,
which will enlarge the aperture, scattering around a yellow and black-
ish dust.

It is not impossible, that what is here seen in miniature takes place
on a grand scale in volcanoes; as it is well known that they always,
furnish abundance of sulphur, and also metallic substances.
To produce Artificial Lightning.
Provide a tin tube, that is much larger on one side than the other,
and in which there are several holes. Fill this tube with resin, in
powder, and when it is shook over the flame of a torch, it will pro-
duce a sudden corruscation, that strongly represents a flash of light-
ning. This is the manner in which lightning is produced at the theatres:
it is not the flame itself that is to be seen, but its reflection only, as
happens for the most part in nature.
J
It is in this manner that the flambeaux of the furies on the stage are
constructed, except that, at the end of each of them, there is a match
dipped in spirits of wine; by means of which it is only necessary to
shake them, and they will produce a sudden and very considerable flame.
Method of cutting Glass, by Means of Heat.
Take a common wine glass, or any vessel you want cut, and having
heated a poker in the fire till it is almost red hot, but not quite, apply
it to the part where you wish the crack to begin; having held it upon
the part for about a minute, remove the poker, and wet the place: the
glass will immediately crack. Having now begun the crack, you may
lead it in any direction, by merely drawing the hot poker in the direc
tion you want. This is extremely useful in many chemical experiments,
where you are in want of proper apparatus.
Glass tubes may be easily cut with a file.
A curious Method of forming Pictures by Nitrate of Silver.
It is well known that light has a powerful effect upon many of the
metallic oxydes, causing them to turn black.
Mr. J. Wedgewood has availed of this property for copying paintings
on glass, and making profiles of figures by means of nitrate of silver.
Cover white paper, or leather, with a solution of nitrate of silver, and
place it behind a painting on glass, which is exposed to the rays of the
sun. The rays which come through will blacken the paper; but the
shades will be more or less deep, in proportion to the quantities of
light transmitted through the different parts of the glass. Where the
glass is transparent, and all the light comes through, the paper will be
made quite black; where the glass is quite opaque, and does not trans-
1


MISCELLANEOUS.
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mit any light, the paper will be quite white; and there will be degrees
of intensity of the shadow of every variety between these.
This picture is not sensibly affected by the light of candles or lamps;
but the day light destroys it very soon, causing all the paper to be-
come black; nor have any means hitherto tried for preventing this
been successful.

Besides the application of this property of nitrate of silver to copying
the light and shadow of paintings on glass, it may be applied to some
others. By means of it delineations may be made of all such objects as
are partly opaque and partly transparent. The fibres of leaves, and
the wings of insects, may be pretty accurately represented by it, by
only making the solar rays pass through them, upon prepared leather
or paper.
Professor Davy has found, that the images of small objects produced
by means of the solar microscope, may be copied without difficulty on
prepared paper. He found that the best proportion was one part of
nitrate to about ten of water. This is sufficient to enable the paper to
become tinged, without hurting its texture.
Artificial Fire-Works.
3
Artificial fire-works are of two kinds-those made of gunpowder,
nitre, and other inflammable substances and filings of the metals, cam-
phor, &c. and those produced by hydrogen or inflammable air.
Those made with gunpowder are well known, and are called rockets,
fire-wheels, tourbillons, &c.

Of these, the most usual are rockets. They are made by ramming
into strong cylindrical paper cases put into wooden moulds, like small
hollow columns, powdered gunpowder, or the ingredients of which it
is composed, viz. saltpetre, sulphur, and charcoal, very dry.
If you would represent a fiery rain falling from the rocket, mix
among your charge a composition of powdered glass, filings of iron,
and saw-dust; this shower is called the peacock's tail, on account of
the various colours that appear in it. Camphor mixed with the charge,
produces white or pale fire; resin a reddish colour, sulphur a blue, sal-
ammoniac a green, antimony a reddish yellow, ivory shavings a silvery
white, pitch a deep or dark coloured fire, and steel filings, beautiful
corruscations and sparks.
Sticks are fastened to the rockets, by which they are projected into
the air, after they have been lighted: the charge burning with great
intensity at one end, acts upon the air, which, in its turn, re-acts upon
the rocket, and causes it to ascend, on the same principle as a boat is
put off by a man in it, who pushes against the shore with a boat-hook.
Fire-works by means of inflammable air are the most elegant; and
being free from smell or smoke, may be exhibited in a room without
any disagreeable effect.
The philosophical light has been already described under chemistry,
when treating of hydrogen gas. By referring to what is there said, the
principle of these fire-works will easily be understood. Small copper
or tin tubes must be provided, of about a quarter of an inch in dia-
meter; these tubes must be formed into the shapes required, and pierc-
ed with very small holes where a flame is wanted to appear; to these
pieces must be attached large bladders, or air-tight bags, filled with
hydrogen gas. There must also be a stop cock between the tubes and
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776
MISCELLANEOUS.

1
the bladders, to open or close the communication. Having prepared
every thing properly, open the stop cock, and press the bladders; the
hydrogen will be forced out through the holes in the tubes, and by
means of a taper, may be inflamed. A constant stream of fire may be
kept up as long as there is any air in the bladders.
Upon this principle were constructed the beautiful fire-works lately
exhibited in London by Mr. Cartwright.
Of Artificial Grottoes and Shell-Work.
The idea of artificial grottoes is almost always wrongly conceived.
Those who construct them frequently imagine that they are imitating
nature, while at the same time every thing they do is directly the re-
verse. Who ever saw a natural grotto or cavern, covered in the inside
with beautiful' shells stuck all over it, intermixed with pieces of coral,
looking-glass, and every species of shewy ornament? And those who
aim at making a more sober species of grotto, by introducing only
rough masses of stone to imitate natural rocks, and covering the whole
with moss, weeds, &c. always fail in their attempts to imitate nature.
To say the truth, the difficulties in this specics of imitation are by far
greater than most people have any idea of. To succeed, the abilities
not only of the naturalist, but also those of the painter and the archi-
tect, are absolutely necessary. No person ignorant of these sciences
can properly conceive the design, and distribute in an easy and natural
manner the various materials. Nothing is more difficult than to imitate
nature, and a failure in the attempt always disgusts.
There is another idea, however, that may be entertained with re-
gard to artificial grottoes, which is, that they need not represent natural
caverns, but the supposed productions of enchantment or magic. In
this light, most of the incongruities will disappear, and every possible
licence may be given for the display of imagination and taste. Nothing
is supposed to be impossible to magical power: therefore every species
of natural or artificial productions may be combined together, and every
thing introduced that may excite astonishment and surprise. There is
no necessity either for imitating the appearance of natural grottoes, but
every species of regularity and irregularity may be licensed. The
sciences of architecture and mechanics may thus lend their aid in the
construction of places, where mere nature is not the object of imitation,
but where every thing may be employed that can have a powerful ef-
fect upon the imagination.
Shell-work, corals, statues, fountains, streams of water, paintings,
curious musical pieces of mechanism; in short, every thing extraordi-
nary, may be introduced with great success; and in this art there is an
ample field for the display of taste.
The external of a grotto is the part where the least attempt at ornament
should be made. It is best made to resemble some hermitage construct-
ed of roots of trees, or some similar kind of structure; but no attempt
should ever be made here to imitate a natural cavern, except, indeed,
the situation should be peculiarly happy for this purpose.
A cement for fixing large shell-work and stones may be prepared as
follows: Melt together a quantity of resin, pitch, and bees-wax, and
add to it powdered marble or freestone, and a little sulphur. Any of
the finer cements mentioned under the article cements, may be used
for delicate purposes.
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We cannot help mentioning here, that the taste of those who spend
their time in making small pieces of shell-work to put into frames,
must be sadly perverted; and it is a great pity to see so much ingenuity
and patience misapplied. The thing produced can never affect the
mind with any refined sensation; and it is a mere childish toy, the
construction of which is a very unfit employment for the leisure hours
of one who is possessed of natural powers capable of cultivation.
J
We do not consider large grotto work quite in the same light; but it
requires a degree of skill that very few are possessed of, to make them
interesting.
To make Artificial Coral for Grottoes.
To two drachms of fine vermilion add one ounce of clear resin, and
melt them together. Having your branches or twigs peeled and dried,
paint them over with this mixture while hot. The black thorn is the
best branch for it. Hold them over a gentle fire, turning them round
till they are perfectly covered and smooth. You may make white coral
with white lead, and black with lamp-black.
To take Impressions from Leaves.
Take green leaves of trees or flowers, and lay them between the
leaves of a book till they are dry. Then mix up some lamp-black with
drying oil, and make a small dabber of some cotton wrapped up în a
piece of soft leather. Put your colour upon a tile, and take some on
your dabber. Laying the dried leaf flat upon a table, dab it very
gently with the oil colour, till the veins of the leaf are covered; but
you must be careful not to dab it so hard as to force the colour between
the veins. Moisten a piece of paper, or rather have a piece lying be-
tween several sheets of moistened paper for several hours, and lay this
over the leaf which has been blackened. Press it gently down, and
then subject it to the action of a press, or lay a heavy weight on it,
and press it down very hard. By this means you obtain a very beau-
tiful impression of the leaf and all the veins; even the minutest will be
represented in a more perfect manner than they could be drawn with
the greatest care. These impressions may also be coloured in the same
manner as prints,
A method of making Pictures of Birds, by means of their own Feathers.
Get a thin board or pannel of deal, or wainscot, well seasoned, that
it may not warp. Paste white paper over it, and let it dry. Take any
bird that you would wish to represent, and draw its outline on the pa-
per in the attitude you desire, and of the full size, adding what land-
scape, back-ground,, &c. you wish. This outline, so drawn, is after-
wards to be filled up with the feathers from the bird, placing each fea-
ther in that part of the drawing corresponding to the part of the bird
it was taken from.
To do this, cover the representation with several coats of strong gum
water, letting it dry between each coat till it is of the thickness of a
shilling. When your ground is thus prepared, take the feathers off
from the bird, beginning at the tail or points of the wings, as you must
work upwards towards the head. These feathers must be prepared by
cutting off all the downy part; and the larger feathers must have the
insides of their shafts pared off, to make them lie flat. To lay them on,
make use of a pair of small pliers to hold them by; and moistening
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778
MISCELLANEOUS.
the gummed ground with water, place each feather in its natural and -
proper situation. Keep each feather down, by putting a small leaden
weight upon it, till you have another prepared to lay on.
You must
be careful not to let the gum come through the feathers, as it smears
them, and sticking to the bottoms of the weights, will be apt to pull
the feathers off. When you have put on all the feathers, you must cut
a piece of round paper, and colour it like the eye, which you may stick
in its place; but the best way is to get small eyes made of glass. The
bill, legs, and feet, must be drawn and coloured from nature. When
it is finished and adjusted to your mind, lay a sheet of paper upon it,
and upon that a heavy weight to press it; which must remain till the
whole is quite dry.
·

To take the Impression of any Butterfly in all its Colours.
Having taken a butterfly, kill it without spoiling its wings, which
contrive to spread out as regularly as possible in a flying position; then,
with a small brush or pencil, take a piece of white paper; wash part of
it with gum water, a little thicker than ordinary, so that it may easily
dry; afterwards, laying your butterfly on the paper, cut off the body
close to the wings, and throwing it away, lay the paper on a smooth
board, with the fly upwards; and laying another paper over that, put
the whole preparation into a screw press, and screw it down very hard,
or otherwise press it, letting it remain under that pressure for half an
hour. Afterwards take off the wings of the butterfly, and you will find
a perfect impression of them, with all their various colours marked dis-
tinctly, remaining on the paper. When this is done, draw between the
wings of
your impression the body of the butterfly, and colour it after
the insect itself.
To lay Mezzotinto Prints upon Glass.
Take what mezzotinto prints you please; cut off the margin, and lay
it flat in a dish of clear hot water; let it remain on the surface till it
sinks. When you take it out, be careful not to break it, and press it
betwixt clean cloths or papers, so that no water may appear on the sur-
face, but the prints be quite damp: then lay it, face uppermost, on a
flat table; have ready a plate of pure crown glass, free from all spots or
scratches; lay some Venice turpentine all over one side of it with a
soft brush, and hold it to the fire a little, to make it run quite equal and
thin; then let it fall gently on the print. Press it down, that the tur-
pentine may stick to the print; and also press the print with your
fingers, from the middle to the edges of the glass, so that no blisters
may remain. Wet your print now with a soft cloth, and rub it gently
with your finger, and the paper will peel off, leaving only the impres-
sion upon the glass. When it is dry, wet it over with oil of turpen-
tine till it is transparent, and set it by to dry, when it will be fit for
painting. The colours used for painting in this manner are the usual
oil colours, and there is nothing in the process particular.
+
•
To make Artificial Pearls.
Take the blay or bleak fish, which is very common in the rivers near
London, and scrape off the fine silvery scales from the belly. Wash
and rub these in water. Then suffer this water to settle, and a sedi-
ment will be found of an oily consistence. A little of this is to be drop-
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MISCELLANEOUS.
779
ped into a hollow glass bead of a bluish tint, and shaken about, so as
to cover all the internal surface. After this, the bead is filled up with
melted white wax, to give it solidity and weight.
To prepare the Nuremberg Powder of variegated Colour,
Mix together clean filings of copper, brass, iron, steel, and other me
tals. Put each of them separately into an iron vessel, and heat them
till they change colour. The degree of heat can only be regulated by
trial. Take these to a good flatting mill, furnished with a funnel at
top, and pass these filings through it, and you will procure a most
beautiful sparkling powder of all sorts of lively colours..

To make very beautiful Artificial Petrefactions,
Put into a retort a quantity of pounded fluor spar and a few bits of
broken glass, and pour upon them some sulphuric acid; fluoric acid
gas will be disengaged, holding silex in solution. The substances to
be made to resemble petrefactions, as lizards, frogs, branches of trees,
birds' nests, &c. must now be moistened with water, and placed in a
vessel connected with the neck of the retort. The fluoric acid gas will
be absorbed by the moisture adhering to the substances, and the silex
will be precipitated upon them like a sort of hoar-frost, which will have
a very beautiful appearance, and is very durable.
New method of making Cast-Steel.
This method has been lately invented in France. It is as follows:
Take small pieces of iron, and place them in a crucible, with a mixture
of chalk or lime-stone and the earth of Hessian crucibles. Six parts of
chalk and six of this earth must be employed for twenty parts of the
iron. The matters are to be so disposed, that, after fusion, the iron
must be completely covered by them, to prevent it from coming into
contact with the external air. The mixture is then to be gradually
heated, and at last exposed to a heat capable of melting iron. If the
fire be well kept up, an hour will generally be sufficient to convert two
pounds of iron into excellent and exceedingly hard steel, capable of be-
ing forged; an advantage not possessed by steel made in the usual
manner.
Method of distinguishing Iron from Steel.
Drop a little weak aquafortis on the metal; let it remain for a few
minutes, and then wash it off with water. If it is steel, the spot will
be black; but if iron, the spot will be whitish grey.
A Test for discoveeing the presence of Lead, Copper, &c. in Wines.
Lead and copper being sometimes used to amend the taste of wines,
and these metals being of a very poisonous quality, a test that shall de-
tect this is of great value. The following test is the discovery of Mr.
Hanhemann, and is found to answer perfectly.
Equal parts of oyster shells and crude sulphur are to be kept in a
white heat for a quarter of an hour, and, when cold, this is to be mix-
ed with an equal quantity of acidulous tartrite of potass, and put into
a strong bottle with common water for an hour, and then decanted into
bottles holding an ounce each, with twenty drops of muriatic acid in
each.
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780
MISCELLANEOUS.
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I
This liquor precipitates the least quantities of lead, copper, &c. from
wines, in very sensible black precipitate.
To make Pearl-White.
Put some good aquafortis into a Florence flask, and gradually add to
it bismuth broken into small pieces, till no more dissolves; then let the
solution remain till it is transparent. Add to this some water, and a
white precipitate will be formed, which is to be washed and dried
This is white oxyde of bismuth, commonly termed magistery of bis-
muth, or pearl-white.
This is used as a cosmetic, and is sold by the perfumers; but it very
much impairs the skin, blackening it by degrees, so that once used, it
must be continued ; and it is also to be feared, that it has besides. dele-
terious effects upon the constitution.
I
To procure Animalcula for the Microscope.
The surface of infused liquors is generally covered with a thin pelli-
cle, which is easily broken, but acquires thickness by standing; the
greatest number of animalculæ are generally to be found in this super-
ficial film.
To make an infusion of Pepper.-Cover the bottom of an open jar,
about half an inch thick, with common black pepper bruised; pour as
much soft water in the vessel as will rise about an inch above the pep-
per. The pepper and water are then to be well shaken together; after
which they must not be stirred, but be left exposed to the air for a few
days, when a thin pellicle will be formed on the surface of the water,
containing millions of animalculæ.
To procure the eels in paste, boil a little flour and water till it becomes
of a moderate consistence; expose it to the air in an open vessel, and
beat it together from time to time, to prevent the surface from growing
hard or mouldy: after a few days, especially in summer time, it will
turn sour; then, if it be examined with attention, you will find myriads
of eels on the surface. Apply them to the microscope on a slip of flat
glass, first putting on it a drop of water, taken up by the head of a pin,
for them to swim in.
A very useful Method of breaking up Logs of Wood.
The usual way of breaking up logs of wood for the purposes of fuel,
is by axes, and driving wedges in. This, particularly in roots of trees,
is very laborious. It is also sometimes done by gunpowder, in the
same way as stones and rocks are blasted; but this is very troublesome,
as the plug is often driven out. A better method of performing this
operation has lately been invented. A hole is bored with an augre, and
a charge of powder introduced. An iron screw, with a good thread,
having a hole bored through its axis, is then introduced into the hole,
and turned till it come near to the powder. While the screw is putting
in, a wire is kept in the hole through its axis, but it is afterwards drawn
out, and a piece of twine dipped in a solution of nitre is put into its
place. This quick match is set fire to, and by its slow burning, affords
time for the operator to retire before it sets fire to the gunpowder.
By this means, any roots or old stumps of trees may be easily
broken up.
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MISCELLANEOUS.
781
A process for purifying Fish Oil.
Take a gallon of crude stinking oil, and put to it a pint of water
poured off from two ounces of lime slaked in the air; stir the mixture
up several times for the first twenty-four hours; then let stand a day,
and the lime water will sink below the oil, which must be carefully
separated from it.
Another Method for purifying it more completely.
Take a gallon of crude stinking oil, and mix with it a quarter of an
ounce of powdered chalk, a quarter of an ounce of lime, slaked in the
air, and half a pint of water; stir them together; and when they have
stood some hours, add a pint of water, and two ounces of pearl-ashes,
and place the mixture over a fire that will just keep it simmering, till
the oil appears of a light amber colour, and has lost all smell, except a
hot, greasy,,soap-like scent. Then superadd half a pint of water in
which one ounce of salt has been dissolved, and having boiled it half an
hour, pour the mixture into a proper vessel, and let it stand for some
days, till the oil and water separate.
h
If this operation be repeated several times, diminishing each time the
quantity of ingredients one half, the oil may be brought to a very light
colour, and rendered equally sweet with the common spermaceti oil.
Oil purified in this manner is found to burn much better, and to an-
swer better the purposes of the woollen manufacture. If an oil be want-
ed thicker and more unctuous, this may be rendered so by the addition
of tallow or fat.
Process for Preserving the Canvas in Oil Paintings, and repairing
Defects.
1st, Separate the canvass from the pannel, or straining frame, and
lay it on a smooth table, with the painting downwards, and nail it se-
curely.
2d, Take a piece of tinfoil, larger than the canvass, place it on a very
smooth table, and make the tinfoil as smooth as possible with your
hand. Then melt some Salisbury glue, in the same manner as for ca-
binet-makers' use.
3d, Warm the tinfoil before the fire, and lay it again on the table,
then wash it over with the glue, and place it on the back of the canvas
secured as above, as quick as possible; smooth it perfectly with the
hand, and let it remain in a warm room to dry.
4th, To repair the cracks of the canvass, in an old oil painting, lay it
on a very smooth table, the subject downwards; then, with a brush or
fine linen, cover the canvass with some melted white wax, and, with a
warm flat smoothing iron, rub over the wax, and press it hard, which
will draw the colours up to the canvass.
5th, To varnish the painting, clean the picture well, take some white
wax, and spirits of turpentine, with a small quantity of linseed oil and
sugar of lead; melt them over the fire, dip a fine linen rag therein,
with which wash your painting; then, with a fine linen rag, rub over
the varnish till it begins to be polished; let it remain till next day, and
then rub it over with a fine waxed cloth, and afterwards with a soft
linen cloth, using them alternately, by which means the painting will
receive a very fine polish.
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782
MISCELLANEOUS.
By the above means, the cracks and small holes in old paintings may
be closed and repaired, and a coat of tinfoil may be afterwards glued
on the back of the canvass, as above mentioned.
A foot square of the tinfoil costs about sixpence; when wanted of a
larger size it will cost considerably more in proportion. It may be pro-
cured in sheets of three or four feet if wanted.
Seeds.-An Easy Method of discovering whether or not Seeds are
sufficiently ripe..
Seeds, when not sufficiently ripe, will swim, but when arrived at
full maturity, they will be found uniformly to fall to the bottom; a fact
that is said to hold equally true of all seeds, from the cocoa nut to
the orchis.
On preserving Seeds of Plants in a State fit for Vegetation.
Seeds of plants may be preserved, for many months at least, by caus-
ing them to be packed, either in husks, pods, &c. in absorbent paper,
with raisins or brown moist sugar; or a good way, practised by gar-
deners, is to wrap the seed in brown paper or cartridge paper, pasted
down, and then varnished over.

To facilitate the Growth of Foreign Seeds.
Mr. Humbolt has found, that seeds, which do not commonly germi-
nate in our climate, or in our hot-houses, and which of course we cannot
raise for our gardens, or hope to naturalize in our fields, become cap-
able of germinating, when immersed for some days in a weak oxyge-
nised muriatic acid. This interesting discovery has already turned to
advantage in several botanic gardens.
Management of Garden Borders.-To plant and make Edgings.
Edgings of daisies, thrift, violets, gentianella, &c. should be planted
in February; but those of box succeed better if planted in April or
August.
New edgings should be planted rather closely, that they may have
an immediate effect; and, in repairing old ones, plant very close, that
the whole may appear the more uniform. Some plant these, in either
case, with the dibble, but it is better to do this with the spade; cutting
out by the line, a drill, or furrow, perpendicular on the side next the
border, and to a depth suitable to the size of the roots to be laid; plac-
ing them against the perpendicular side, and spreading out their fibres
sideways; exposing them to the air as short a time as possible.
How to cut Box Edgings.
Box edgings should be cut about the beginning of April, or in the
end of July. They should, however, be cut once a year, and should
be kept two inches in breadth at bottom; being tapered up to a thin
edge at top; for nothing looks so ill as a large bushy edging, especially
to a narrow walk. The use of edging is to separate the earth from the
gravel, and the larger they are allowed to grow, the less effectual they
become; getting the more open below, as they advance in height.
Such also harbour snails, and other troublesome vermin.
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A sure Method of curing Gravel Walks.
Three parts pond water to one of brine, from the salting-tub in a
family, poured with a watering pot upon gravel walks, will not only
kill the moss upon them, but drive away the worms which make so
many holes in them, and also prevent weeds springing up. This a
gentleman has lately tried, who has several gravel walks in a grove near
his house. Since he moistened his walks with brine, which is now four
years ago, they are incommoded neither by moss, weeds, or worms.
Every autumn he causes them to be well watered with the brine and
pond water, during a whole week, to prevent moss, and a week in the
spring, to guard against weeds and worms, besides giving them a
sprinkling every now and then in summer season, when they seem to
want it.
Culture and Management of Flowers-Proper Method of laying
Carnations.
In summer, towards the latter end of June, or any time in July, ar
beginning of August, when the shoots of the year are advanced to a
proper growth, being from four, five, or six, to seven or eight inches
long, which are to be laid as they grow on the plants, and to remain
affixed thereto till rooted in the ground.
Thus far observed; begin the work by first clearing away all weeds
about the plants, and loosen the earth a little around them, and if the
surface is low, add some mould thereto, sufficient to raise it high enough
to receive the layers easily; then begin the laying the shoots one by
one; strip off the lower leaves so as to have some inches of a clear shoot
below; and trim the top leaves shorter and even, and then slit or gash
the shoot on the under side; in doing which, fix on a joint about the
middle of the shoot underneath, and with your sharp knife cut half
through the joint, and slanting upwards, so as to slit the shoot up the
middle half an inch, or but little more; which done, directly lay it, by
bending it down to the earth with the gash or slit part open, making
an opening in the earth, and peg it down with one or two of the small-
hooked sticks, and earth over the body of the layer an inch or two deep,
still keeping the slit open, and the top raised gently upright, pressing
the earth moderately upon them; and in this manner proceed with lay-
ing all the shoots on each plant; and when all are laid give a gentle
watering to settle the earth close about the layers, and repeat it fre-
quently in dry weather.

They will soon emit roots at the gash or slit part, generally at the
bottom of the tongue, and in five or six weeks will often be rooted fit
for separating and planting off from the parent, so that when they have
been about five, six, or seven weeks laid, you will examine the progress
they have made in rooting, by opening the earth gently about some
of the layers; and as soon as they appear to be tolerably rooted, let them
be cut off from the old plant with a sharp knife, in order to be timely
planted out in nursery beds, that they may root more abundantly, and
get due strength before winter; observing, in cutting them off from the
mother plant, to open the ground so as to take them up with all the
roots they have made, and cut them clean off beyond the gash; after-
wards trim off any naked woody part or bottom, but preserve all the
roots, and trim the long tops a little, then plant them in nursery rows,
Hans
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six inches asunder, or you may prick some in small pots, one layer in
each, giving water directly at planting, and repeat it often in dry wea-
ther till they take good root, and grow freely, keeping them clean from
weeds.
Those in the nursery beds will, by October, be good strong plants.
The choicest sorts may then be planted in pots, to move under occa-
sional shelter in time of severe frost, and for which purpose, either use
small pots (32) to contain them all winter, or plant them in large pots
(24 or 16) to remain to flower, observing to take them up out of the
nursery beds for potting, &c. with a garden trowel, each layer with a
good ball of earth about the roots; and having the pots ready, placing
a shell over the holes at bottom, and put some good light rich earth
therein; plant one layer with its ball about the roots entire, in each pot,
fill up with more earth, and give some water; you may also at the same
time plant some of the more ordinary or common sorts into flower-
borders or beds, to stand the full weather all the year, but the choicer
sorts in the pots, may, in November, be placed close together, either
in a garden-frame, to have occasional protection of the glasses, or mats,
in severe frost, and have the full air in all open weather and mild days,
or may be plunged in a raised bed of any dry compost, raised some
inches above the common level, and arched over with hoop arches, in
order to be protected with occasional covering of garden mats when
hard frosts prevail; but in either method be sure to expose them fully
in all open weather, as aforesaid.
In the spring, such as have remained all winter in small pots, should,
in February or early in March, be turned out with the ball of earth
about the root, and planted into larger pots, to remain for flowering,
giving proper waterings; and those which were potted at once into
larger pots in autumn, should now have the earth stirred at top, taking
out some, and filling up with fresh good earth, and give a little water.
The layers planted in the common borders of the pleasure and flower
garden require no other care than keeping them clean from weeds, and
tying up the flower stalks to sticks when they are advanced long enough
to require support.
Plants watered by being placed in Dishes, improper.
The practice of placing flats or saucers under plants, and feeding
them by the roots, that is, pouring the water continually into these
dishes, and never on the earth at top, is highly improper. The water
should always be poured on the surface of the earth, that it may filtre
completely through it, to the benefit and refreshment of the fibres.
When to plant Annual and Perennial Flowers.
Many kinds of annuals and perennials, sown in March and the begin-
ning of April, will be fit for transplanting about the end of May, and
may either be planted in patches about borders, or in beds, as fancy
shall direct. Of these, the kinds improved by transplanting are, ama-
ranthuses, China asters, columbines, French and African marigolds,
fox-gloves, holly hocks, India pinks, love-lies-a-bléeding, mallows, mig-
nionette, prince's feather, scabious, stocks, sun-flowers, sweet-williams,
wall-flowers, and others. They should be planted out in a showery
time, if possible, or otherwise be frequently watered, till they have
struck root.
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To Remove Herbs and Flowers in the Summer.
If you have occasion to transplant in the summer season, let it be in
the evening after the heat is past, plant and water the same immediately,
and there will be no danger from the heat next day; but be careful, in
digging up the earth, you do not break any of the young shoots, as the
sap will exude out of the same to the great danger of the plants.
Method of growing Flowers and Fruits during Winter.
In order to produce this effect, the trees or shrubs being taken up in
the spring, at the time when they are about to bud, with some of their
own soil carefully preserved among the roots, must be placed upright
in a cellar till Michaelmas; when, with the addition of fresh earth, they
are to be put into proper tubs or vessels, and placed in a stove or hot-
house, where they must every morning be moistened or refreshed with
a solution of half an ounce of sal-ammoniac in a pint of rain water.
Thus, in the month of February, fruits or roses will appear; and, with
respect to flowers in general, if they are sown in pots at or before
Michaelmas, and watered in a similar manner, they will blow at
Christmas.
To preserve delicate young Shoots of Flowers from Slugs and Earwigs.
Earwigs and slugs are fond of the points of the young shoots of car-
nations and pinks, and are very troublesome in places where they abound.
To prevent them from getting to the fine stage plants, or supports of
the stage, they are sometimes insulated in water, being set in cisterns
or pans. If a pencil, dipt in oil, was drawn round the bottom of the
pots once in two days, neither of these insects nor ants would attempt
them, Few insects can endure oil. The smallest drop of it is instantly
fatal to many kinds.
Virtues of the Sun-Flower.
The cultivation of the annual sun-flower is recommended to the no-
tice of the public, as possessing the advantages of furnishing abundance
of agreeable fodder for cattle in their leaves. When in flower, bees
flock to them from all quarters to gather honey. The seed is valuable
in feeding sheep, pigs, and other animals; it produces a striking effect
in poultry, as occasioning them to lay more eggs, and it yields a large
quantity of excellent oil, by pressure; the dry stalks burn well, the
ashes affording a considerable quantity of alkali.
To preserve Flower Seeds.
Those who are curious about saving flower seeds, must attend to them
in the month of August. Many kinds will begin to ripen apace, and
should be carefully sticked and supported to prevent them from being
shaken by high winds, and so partly lost. Others should be defended
from much wet; such as asters, marigolds, and generally those of the
class Syngenesia; as from the construction of their flowers they are apt
to rot, and the seeds to mould, in bad seasons. Whenever they are
thought ripe, or indeed any others, in wet weather, they should be re-
moved to an airy shed or loft, gradually dried, and rubbed or beat out
at conveniency,
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Culture and Treatment of Fruit Trees and Shrubs.-To prevent Blossom
and Fruit Trees from being damaged by early Spring Frost.
If a rope (a hempen one it is presumed) be intermixed among the
branches of a fruit-tree in blossom, and the end of it brought down, so
as to terminate in a bucket of water, and should a slight frost take place
in the night-time, in that case the tree will not be affected by the frost;
but a film of ice, of considerable thickness, will be formed on the sur-
face of the bucket in which the rope's end is immersed, although it has
often happened that another bucket of water, placed beside it for the
sake of experiment, has had no ice at all upon it.
Chinese Mode of propagating Fruit Trees.
The ingenious people of China have a common method of propagating
several kinds of fruit trees, which of late years has been practised with
success in Bengal. The method is simply this :-They strip a ring of
bark, about an inch in width, from a bearing branch, surround the place
with a ball of fat earth, or loam, bound fast to the branch with a piece
of matting: over this they suspend a pot or horn, with water, having a
small hole in the bottom just sufficient to let the water drop, in order to
keep the earth constantly moist. The branch throws new roots into
the earth just above the place where the ring of bark was stripped off.
The operation is performed in the spring, and the branch is sawn off
and put into the ground at the fall of the leaf. The following year it
will bear fruit.
To improve Fruit Trees by Attention to the Colour of the Soil.
$
The colour, and also the quality of soils, have an effect on the colour
and flavour of fruits-even on the colour of many flowers. The effects
of the colour of soils on that of fruits are most perceptible on the deli-
cate kinds, such as grapes, peaches, &c. but to a nice observer it ex-
tends in a greater or less degree to all fruits. For instance, if two black
Hamburgh grapes, made from the cuttings of the same plant, shall be
planted, the one in a dry hazely loam, and the other in a moist black-
earth, the fruit of the one will be brown, or of a grizly colour, and the
other very dark red or black; and the grape will be more juicy, though
better in flavour, than the other grown in a drier soil.
1
To increase the Growth in Trees.
It may be depended upon as a fact, that by occasionally washing the
stems of trees, their growth will be greatly increased: for several re-
cent experiments have proved that all the ingredients of vegetation
united, which are received from the roots, stem, branches, and leaves,
of a mossy and dirty tree, do not produce half the increase either in
wood or fruit, that another gains whose stem is clean. It is clearly
obvious that proper nourishment cannot be received from rain, for the
dirty stem will retain the moisture longer than when clean, and the
moss and dirt will absorb the finest parts of the dew, and likewise act
as a screen, by depriving the tree of that share of sun and air which it
requires.
A common scrubbing brush and clean water is all that is necessary,
only care must be observed not to injure the bark,
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To prevent Hares and Rabbits from barking young Plantations.
Hares, rabbits, and rats have a natural antipathy to tar; but tar,
though fluid, contracts, when exposed to the sun and air for a time, a
great dryness and a very binding quality; and if applied to trees in its
natural state, will occasion them to be bark bound. To remove this
difficulty, tar is of so strong a savour, that a small quantity mixed with
other things, in their nature open and loose, will give the whole mix-
ture such a degree of its own taste and smell, as will prevent hares, &c.
touching what it is applied to.

-
Take any quantity of tar, and six or seven times as much grease, stir-
ring and mixing them well together: with this composition brush the
stems of young trees, as high as hares, &c. can reach; and it will ef-
fectually prevent their being barked.
·
Bad effects of Iron Nails, &c. on Fruit Trees, or mischievous Effects of
Iron Nails in Conjunction with Branches of Fruit Trees.
It often happens that some of the limbs of fruit trees, trained against
a wall, are blighted and die, while others remain in a healthy and
flourishing state. This has been hitherto erroneously attributed to the
effects of lightning; but, from closer observation, and from several ex-
periments, it has been found to arise from the corroding effects of the
rust of the nails and cramps with which trees in this situation are fas-
tened. To avoid this inconvenience, therefore, it requires only to be
careful in preventing the iron from coming in contact with the bark of
the trees.
伊​勢​国
​To destroy Moss on Trees.
Remove it with a hard scrubbing brush in February and March, and
wash the trees with cow dung, urine, and soap-suds.
Necessity of taking off superfluous Suckers from Shrubs.
Many flowering shrubs put out strong suckers from the root, such
as lilacs, syringa, and some of the kinds of roses, which take greatly
from the strength of the mother plant; and which, if not wanted for
the purpose of planting next season, should be twisted off, or otherwise
destroyed.
To cure the Disease in Apple Trees.
Brush off the white down, clear off the red stain underneath it, and
anoint the places infected with a liquid mixture of train oil and Scotch
snuff.
To cure the Canker in Trees.
Cut them off to the quick, and apply a piece of sound bark from any
other tree, and bind it on with a flannel roller. Cut off the canker,
and a new shoot will grow strong, but in a year or two you will find
it cankered.
A Method of curing Fruit Trees infected with an Easterly Blight.
Where valuable fruit trees are infected with this blight, they may,
with little trouble and expence, be in a short time cured, by fumigat-
ing them with brimstone strewed on light charcoal; this effectually
kills them; but the workman must observe to get to windward of the
辜
​CÀ¸«ÆSTRA
1
St
788
trees, as the fumes, both of brimstone and charcoal, are very offensive
and pernicious.
Mr. Miller recommends washing and sprinkling the blighted trees
from time to time, with common water (that is, such as hath not had
any thing steeped in it), and the sooner that is performed (wherever
we apprehend danger) the better; and if the young and tender shoots
seem to be much infected, wash them with a woollen cloth so as to
clear them, if possible, from all glutinous matter, that their respira-
tion and perspiration may not be obstructed, and if some broad flat
pans, or tubs, are placed near the trees, it will keep their tender parts
in a ductile state, and greatly keep them; but whenever this operation
of washing the trees is performed, it should be early in the day, that
the moisture may be exhaled before the cold of the night comes on,
especially if the nights are frosty, nor should it be done when the
sun shines very hot upon the wall, which would be subject to scorch
up the tender blossom.
MISCELLANEOUS.

Experienced Method of healing Wounds in Trees.
This method consists in making a varnish of common linseed oil,
rendered very drying, by boiling it for the space of an hour, with an
ounce of litharge to each pound of oil, mixed with calcined bones,
pulverized and sifted, to the consistence of an almost liquid paste.
With this paste the wounds of trees are to be covered, by means of a
brush, after the bark and other substance have been pared, so as to
render the whole as smooth and even as possible. The varnish must
be applied in dry weather, in order that it may attach itself properly.
Composition for healing Wounds in Trees.
Take of dry pounded chalk, three measures; and of common vege-
table tar, one measure; mix them thoroughly, and boil them, with a
low heat, till the composition becomes of the consistency of bees-wax ;
it may be preserved for use in this state for any length of time. It
chalk cannot conveniently be got, dry brick-dust may be substituted.
Application —After the broken or decayed limb has been sawed off,
the whole of the saw cut must be very carefully pared away, and the
rough edges of the bark, in particular, must be made quite smooth:
the doing of this properly is of great consequence; then lay on the
above composition hot, about the thickness of half-a-crown, over the
wounded place, and over the edges of the surrounding bark; it should
be spread with a hot trowel.
To prune Wall Fruit
Cut off all fresh shoots, however fair they may appear to the eye,
that will not, without much bending, be well placed to the wall; for
if any branch happen to be twisted or bruised in the bending or turn-
ing (which you may not easily perceive), although it may grow and
prosper for the present, yet it will decay in time, and the sap or gum
will issue from that place.
To prune Vines to Advantage.
In pruning vines, leave some new branches every year, and take
away (if too many) some of the old, which will be of great advantage
to the tree, and much increase the quantity of fruit.
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When you trim your vine, leave two knots, and cut them off the
next time; for, usually, the two buds yield a bunch of grapes. Vines,
thus pruned, have been known to bear abundantly, whereas others.
that have been cut close to please the eye, have been almost barren
of fruit.
The most proper Time when Leaves of Trees ought to be collected for
pharmaceutical and economical Purposes.
It is at that period when the plant is in full flower that the leaves
possess their full virtue. They drop when their particular life has
terminated.
Culture and Management of Garden Crops.-To propagate Herbs,
by Slips and Cuttings.

Many kinds of pot-herbs may, in July, be propagated by cuttings or
slips, which may be planted out to nurse on a shady border for a few
weeks, or till they have struck root, and may then be planted out where
they are to remain. If made about the middle, or end of the month,
they will be ready for transplanting before the end of August, and in
that case will be well established before the winter.
The kinds are marjoram, mint, sage, savory, sorrel, tansy, tarragons,
and thyme.
New Method of rendering Asparagus more productive, and of producing
it in every Month in the Year.
1
The flowers of asparagus are found, on a strict examination, to be
diæcious, although arranged by Linnæus, and other botanists, as her-
maphrodite.
Those individuals which bear berries have abortive stamina, and
those which have perfect stamina are destitute of pistils, or at leest have
only abortive ones.
The male plants throw up a far greater quantity of shoots than the
female ones, although not quite equal to them in size.
In the formation, therefore, of beds, the male plants only should be.
selected, which may easily be done by not planting them from the seed
bed until they have flowered.
When the plants are one year old, transplant them into the other
beds, at six inches distance; let them remain there until they flower,
which will be in most of them, in the second year; put a small stick
to each male plant, to mark them; and pull up the females, unless
you choose to make a small plantation with some of them, to prove the
truth of the experiment.
As asparagus is esteemed one of the greatest delicacies which the
garden affords, no person fond of it should be unacquainted with the
method of producing it in every month of the year.
Towards the end of July, especially if it be rainy weather, cut down
the stalks of the asparagus, fork up the beds and rake them smooth.
If it be dry, water them with the draining of a dunghill; but, instead
of leaving them round, leave them rather flat or hollow in the middle,
the better to retain the water or rain. In about twelve or fourteen
days the asparagus will begin to appear, and, if it be dry weather, con-
tinue watering once or twice a week.
By this method you may cut asparagus till about the end of Sep-
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790
MISCELLANEOUS.
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tember, at which time the hot beds will succeed this; so that by mas-
ing five or six hot beds during the winter, you may have a regular
succession of it every month of the year.
Some persons will object to cutting the same beds twice a year: to
obviate this objection, leave two or three beds uncut in spring, and
make a few more beds, if you choose to follow the practice.
Asparagus seed is very cheap; nor is it necessary to use so much as
was formerly used in making the beds. It is better to apply a little
rotten dung on the tops of the beds, and to sow some seed every year,
that you may have plenty of plants for forcing and making new beds.
Be not too fond of continuing the old ones, when you perceive they
begin to fail, but make new ones, and force the old roots.
To raise Capsicums, and make Cayenne Pepper.
Cayenne pepper is a spice used in most families, and often cultivated
in the gardens for ornament, without either gentlemen or gardeners
knowing that they have so valuable a spice in their possession; for the
usual price is a shilling an ounce, and even then it is not much dearer
than black, as it will go about four times as far.
This pepper originally came from Cayenne, in South America (and
ather warm countries), from whence it took its name, but is now so
naturalized to this climate as to be raised on a common hot bed in
spring.
It is produced from the capsicum, which is raised for ornament, with
many other annual flowers, or for pickling the green pods, and is the
seed and pod when ripe.
In March or April, procure some pods of any of the sorts of capsi-
cums, as there are many varieties of them of different shapes; take out
the seeds, and sow them on a hot bed, not too thick.
When they are about four inches high, prick them out on the hot
bed, at six inches asunder; or put each into a small pot, or three into
a large one, and keep them still under the glasses.
In June, when the weather is settled, plant them all in a warm si-
tuation, in rich earth, where they are to remain; some on the borders
of the flower-garden, and some into larger pots, which you can shelter
in bad weather.
New Method of raising Cucumbers.
From the best seed that can be got of the common prickly cu-
cumber, raise plants on a moderate hot bed, not hurrying them too
much in their growth. In May, when the danger of the frost is nearly
over, familiarise the plants by degrees to the air, and towards the
latter end of the month plant them in the open ground against a south
wall. Take care not to give them too much water, as that will injure
the fruit. When they have run up about five feet, they will send
forth blossoms, and the fruit will begin to shew itself soon after. The
flesh of cucumbers raised in this manner will be thicker and firmer,
and the flavour,vastly more delicious, than those raised from the same
seed, but planted in the ordinary way, and the runners suffered to trail
on the ground. Though a south wall, in most gardens, is too much
appropriated to other things, to give room for cucumbers in general,
yet in every garden a few plants may be so trained by way of rarity,
and to save seed, which is found to be greatly improved by this me-
thod, so as to produce much better cucumbers in the common way of
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:
raising them. One or two plants, so raised, will supply a sufficient
quantity of seed for a large garden.
Laying a cucumber, or melon bed, with tiles, is also of particular
service in improving the fruit, and giving it a proper flavour.
To prevent the irregular Growth of Melons.
It is well known that melons frequently, in certain situations, lose
their circular form, and grow larger on one side than the other, and
that those misshapen fruits are always bad. To remedy this, take a
small forked stick, in proportion to the size of the melon, and thrust
it into the ground as nearly as possible to the tail of the fruit, taking
the precaution to lay a little moss between the two prongs, and sus-
pend the melon to this fork. In a few days the melon will resume its
form, when the fork may be removed, and the operation is finished.
The quality of the fruit remains unchanged.

An easy Method of producing Mushrooms.
If the water wherein mushrooms have been steeped or washed be
poured upon an old bed, or if the broken parts of mushrooms be strew-
ed thereon, there will speedily arise great numbers.
To obtain a good Crop of Onions.
In order to obtain a good crop of onions, it is proper to sow at dif-
ferent seasons, viz. in light soils, in August, January, or early in Feb-
ruary; and in heavy wet soils, in March, or early in April. Onions,
however, should not be sown in January, unless the ground be in a dry
state, which is not often the case at so early a period of the season; but
if so, advantage should be taken of it.
The Advantage in sowing Peas in Circles instead of straight Rows.
It is a great error in those persons who sow the rows of tall growing
peas close together. It is much better in all those sorts, which grow
six or eight feet high, to have only one row, and then to leave a bed ten
or twelve feet wide for onions, carrots, or any crops which do not
grow tall.
The advantages which will be derived are, that the peas will not be
drawn up so much, be stronger, will flower much nearer the ground,
and in wet weather can be more easily gathered without wetting you.
But instead of sowing peas in straight rows, if you will form the
ground into circles of three feet diameter, with a space of two feet
between each circle, in a row thirty feet long, you will have six
circles of peas, each nine feet; in all, fifty-four feet of peas instead of
thirty, on the same extent of ground.
If you want more than one row of circles, leave a bed of ten or
twelve feet before you begin another.
For the very tall sorts, four feet circles will afford more room for
the roots to grow in, and care must be taken, by applying some ten-
der twigs, or strings, to prevent the circles from joining each other.
This method is equally applicable for scarlet.beans.
·
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MISCELLANEOUS.
792
To raise Peas in Autumn, and to prevent Mice from eating them when
sown.
The purple flowered peas are found to answer best for a late crop
in autumn, as they are not so liable to be mildewed as many of the
other sorts, and will continue flowering till the frost stops them.
Those peas may be sown in July, August, or so late as the first
week in September, if sown in a warm sheltered situation, and in a soil
inclining to sand.
Soak the peas in warm milk, and after you have drawn the drills,
water them before you sow the peas: it is best to sow them towards
the evening. If the autumn should prove very dry, they will require
frequent watering.
When peas are sown before winter, or early in spring, they are very
apt to be eaten by mice.
To prevent this, soak the peas for a day or two in train oil before
you sow them, which will encourage their vegetation, and render them
so obnoxious to the mice, that they will not eat them.
Method of cultivating Radishes for Salad, so as to have them ready at all
Seasons of the Year.
•
Take seeds of the common radish, and lay them in rain water to
steep for twenty-four hours; then put them quite wet, into a small
linen bag, well tied at the mouth with a packthread. If you have
steeped a large quantity of seeds, you may divide them into several
bags. Then expose the bags in a place where they will receive the
greatest heat of the sun, for about twenty-four hours, at the end of
which time the seed will begin to grow, and you may then sow it in
Pre-
the usual manner, in earth well exposed to the heat of the sun.
pare two small tubs to cover each other exactly. These may be easily
provided, by sawing a small cask through the middle, and they will
serve in winter; in summer one will be sufficient for each kind of earth
that has been sown. As soon as you have sown your seeds you must
cover them with your tub, and at the end of three days you will find
radishes of the size and thickness of young lettuces, having at their
extremities two small round leaves, rising from the earth, of a reddish
colour. These radishes, cut or pulled up, will be excellent, if mixed
with a salad, and they have a much more delicate taste than the com-
mon radishes which are eaten with salt.
•
By taking the following precautions you may have them in, the
winter, and even during the hardest frosts: After having steeped the
seeds in warm water, and exposed them to the sun as already direct-
ed, or in a place sufficiently hot to make them shoot forth, warm the
two tubs; fill one of them with earth well dunged; sow your seeds,
thus prepared in one of them, and cover it with the other tub; you
must then be careful to sprinkle it with warm water as often as may
be necessary. Then carry the two tubs closely joined, taking care they
cover each other, into a warm vault, or cellar, and at the end of fifteen
days you may gather a fine salad.
To preserve Strawberry Plants from the Heat of the Sun, &c.
Sir Joseph Banks, from a variety of experiments, and the experi-
ence of many years, recommends a general revival of the now almost
MISCELLANEOUS.
79.3
obsolete practice of laying straw under strawberry plants, when the
fruit begins to swell; by which means the roots are shaded from the
sun, the waste of moisture by evaporation prevented, the leaning fruit
kept from damage, by resting on the ground, particularly in wet weather,
and much labour in watering saved. Twenty trusses of long straw are
sufficient for 1800 feet of plants.
Directions for managing Strawberries in Summer.
On the management of strawberries in June and July, the future
prosperity of them greatly depends; and if each plant has not been
kept separate, by cutting off the runners, they will be in a state of con-
fusion, and you will find three different sorts of plants.
1. Old plants, whose roots are turned black, hard, and woody.
2. Young plants, not strong enough to flower.
3. Flowering plants, which ought only to be there, and perhaps not
many of them.


Before the time of flowering is quite over, examine them, and pull
up every old plant which has not flowered; for, if once they have omit-
ted to flower, you may depend upon it they will never produce any af-
ter, being too old, and past bearing; but to be fully convinced, leave
two or three, set a stick to them, and observe them next year.
If the young plants, runners of last year, be too thick, take some of
them away, and do not leave them nearer than a foot of the scarlet, al-
pines, and wood, and fifteen or sixteen inches of all the larger sorts; and
in the first rainy weather in July or August, take them all up, and
make a fresh plantation with them, and they will be very strong plants
for flowering next year.
Old beds, even if the plants be kept single at their proper distance,
examine, and pull all the old plants which have not flowered.
When the fruit is nearly all gathered, examine them again, and cut
off the runners; but if you want to make a fresh plantation, leave some
of the two first, and cut off all the rest. Then stir up the ground with
a trowel, or three-pronged fork, and in August they will be fit to trans-
plant.
If you have omitted in July do not fail in August, that the runners
may make good roots to be transplanted in September, for, if later, the
worms will draw them out of the ground, and the frost afterwards will
prevent them from striking root; the consequence of which is, their
not flowering the next spring; and you will lose a year.
To cultivate the common Garden Rhubarb.
It is not enough to give it depth of good soil, but it must be watered
in drought; and in winter must be well covered with straw or dung.
If this is attended to, your rhubarb will be solid when taken out of the
ground; and your kitchen, if a warm one, when cut into large pieces,
will soon fit it for use.
Method of cultivating and curing Turkey Rhubarb from Seed.
The seed should be sown about the beginning of February, on a bed
of good soil (if rather sandy, the better), exposed to an east or west as- ´
pect in preference to the south; a full sun being prejudicial to the ve-
getation of the seeds, and to the plants whilst young.
The seeds are best sown moderately thick, (broad cast) treading them
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MISCELLANEOUS
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regularly in, as is usual with parsnips and other light seeds, and then
raking the ground smooth. When the season is wet, make a bed for
sowing the rhubard seeds upon, about two feet thick, with new dung
from the stable, covering it near one foot thick with good soil. The
intent of this bed is not for the sake of warmth, but solely to prevent
the rising of earth worms, which in a moist season will frequently de-
stroy the young crop.
If the seed is good, the plants often rise too thick; if so, when they
have attained six leaves, they should be taken up carefully (where too
close), leaving the standing crop eight or ten inches apart: those taken
up may be planted at the same distance in a fresh spot of ground, in
order to furnish other plantations. When the plants in general are
grown to the size that cabbage plants are usually set out for a standing
crop, they are best planted where they are to remain, în beds four feet
wide, one row along the middle of the bed, leaving two yards distance
betwixt the plants, allowing an alley between the beds about a foot
wide, for conveniency of weeding the plants.
In the autumn, when the decayed leaves are removed, if the shovel-
ing of the alleys are thrown over the crowns of the plants, it will be
found of service.
!
Cultivation of Turkey Rhubarb by Offsets.
Slip off several offsets from the heads of large plants: set them with
■ dibble about a foot apart, in order to remove them into other beds,
and in the autumn they will be in a thriving state.
Method of curing Rhubarb.
The plants may be taken up, either early in the spring or in autumn,
when the leaves are decayed, in dry weather if possible; when the roots
are to be cleared from dirt (without washing), let them be cut into
pieces, and with a sharp knife freed from the outer coat, and exposed
to the sun and air for a few days, to render the outside a little dry.
In order to accelerate the curing the largest pieces, a hole may be
scooped out with a penkinfe; these and the smaller parts are then to
be strung on packthread, and hung up in a warm room, where it is to
remain till perfectly dry. Each piece may be rendered more sightly
by a common file, fixing it in a small vice during that operation; after-
wards rub over it a very fine powder, which the small roots furnish in
beautiful perfection, for this and every other purpose where rhubarb is
required.
An easier and simpler method of drying rhubarb is, after cutting the
root into handsome pieces, to wrap up each separately, in one or more
pieces of whitish-brown paper, and then to place them on the hob of a
common Bath afove. Lemon and orange peel dry beautifully in this way.
Proper Soil for the Culture of Turnips.
Sandy loams, in good heart, are most favourable to their growth,
though they will thrive well on strong loams, if they are not wet; but
on clayey, thin, or wet soils, they are not worth cultivating; for though
a good crop may be raised on such ground, when well prepared and
dunged, more damage is done by taking off the turnips in winter, in
poaching the soil, than the value of the crop will repay.
}
1
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MISCELLANEOUS.
725
!
Preservation of Succulent Plants,
Green succulent plants are better preserved after a momentary im-
mersion in boiling water, than otherwise. This practice has been suc-
cessfully used in the preservation of cabbage, and other plants, dried
for keeping; it destroys the vegetable life at once, and in a great de-
gree prevents that decay which otherwise attends them,
Various useful Properties of Tobacco to Gardeners,
Tobacco is employed for so many different uses, that there is no per-
son possessed of a garden, but will find both pleasure and profit in the
cultivation of it, especially as it is now at such a high price. The seed
is very cheap, and may be procured of most nurserymen, and will an-
swer the same end as the foreign for most purposes, and considerably
cheaper.
(The cultivation of tobacco, however, for economical purposes, is pro-
hibited in Great Britain and Ireland.)
Uses to which it may be applied.-1, To florists, for two elegant
annual plants to decorate the borders of the flower garden; or, on ac-
count of their height, to fill up vacant places in the shrubberies; or,
when put into pots, they will be very ornamental in the green-house
during the winter.
2. Kitchen gardeners would in a few days lose their crops of melons,
if not immediately fumigated with tobacco smoke, when attacked by
the red spider; and it is useful to destroy the black flies on cucumbers
in frames.
3. Fruit-gardeners. When peach and nectarine trees have their
leaves curled up, and the shoots covered with smother flies, or the
cherry trees have the ends of the shoots infested with the black dolphin
fly, canvas, pack-sheets, or doubled mats, nailed before them, and fre
quently fumigated under them, will destroy those insects.
4. Forcing-gardeners, who raise roses and kidney-beans in stoves,
can soon destroy the green flies which cover the stalks and buds of
roses, and the insects which appear like a mildew on kidney-beans, by
the assistance of the fumigating bellows.
5. Nurserymen. When the young shoots of standard cherry trees,
or any other trees, are covered with the black dolphin flies, an infusion
is made with the leaves and stalks of tobacco; a quantity is put into an
earthen pan, or small oblong wooden trough: one person holds this up,
whilst another gently bends the top of each tree, and lets the branches
remain about a minute in the liquor, which destroys them.
6. Graziers, when their sheep are infected with the scab, find relief
from making a sheep-water with an infusion of the leaves and stalks.
Moles, when only a few hills are at first observed, may probably be
soon driven out of the ground, by fumigating their holes.
7. Herb tobacco is also greatly improved by having some of the
leaves, when dried, cut with a pair of scissars, and mixed with the
herbs in any quantity you may think proper, according to the strength
you require, and save you the expence of buying tobacco.
The herbs generally used for this purpose are coltsfoot and wood
betony leaves: the leaves and flowers of lavender, rosemary, thyme,
and some others of the like nature.
*
1
796
MISCELLANEOUS.
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1
REFINING METALS.
Cupellation. Gold and silver being the only metals capable of with-
standing the action of very strong heat, are therefore called perfect me-
tals. All other metals are reduced to the state of oxydes when exposed
to a violent fire with access of air. Gold and silver may therefore be
purified from all the baser metals, by keeping them fused till the alloy
be destroyed: but this process would be very expensive, from the great
consumption of fuel, and would be exceedingly tedious. A shorter and
more advantageous method of performing this operation has been dis-


covered.
A certain quantity of lead is added to the alloy of gold and silver,
and the whole is exposed to the action of the fire.
Lead is one of the metals which is inost quickly converted by heat
into an oxyde, which is easily melted into a semi-vitrified, and powerful
vitrifying matter, called litharge. By increasing the proportion of im-
perfect metals, it prevents them from being so well covered and pro-
tected by the perfect metals; and by uniting with these imperfect me-
tals, it communicates to them its property of being very easily oxydat-
ed. By its vitrifying and fusing property, which it exercises with all
its force upon the calcined and naturally refractory parts of the other
metals, it facilitates and accelerates the fusion, scorification, and separa-
tion of these metals. The lead, which in this operation is scorified, and
scorifies along with it the imperfect metals, separates from the metallic
mass, with which it is then incapable of remaining united. It floats
upon the surface of the melted mass, and becomes semi-vitrified. But
the litharge so produced would soon cover the melted metal, and by
preventing the access of air, would prevent the oxydation of the re-
maining imperfect metals. To remedy this, such vessels are employed
as are capable of imbibing and absorbing in their pores the melted li-
tharge, and thus remove it out of the way. Or, for large quantities,
vessels are so constructed, that the fused litharge, besides being soaked
in, may also drain off through a channel made in the corner of the
vessel.

Experience has shewn, that, for this purpose, vessels made of lixivi-
ated wood or bone ashes are most proper. These vessels are called
cupels, and this process is called cupellation. The cupels are flat and
shallow. The furnace ought to be vaulted, that the heat may be rever-
berated upon the surface of the metal during the whole time of the
operation. Upon this surface a crust or dark coloured pellicle is con-
tinually forming. In the instant when all the imperfect metal is de-
stroyed, and consequently the scorification ceases, the surface of the
perfect metal is seen, and appears clean and brilliant. This forms a
kind of fulguration, or corruscation, called lightning. By this mark,
the metal is known to be refined.
Purification of gold by antimony.-When gold contains only a small
quantity of alloy, it may be separated from them by melting it in a cru-
cible that will hold twice its quantity at least, and throwing upon it,
whilst in fusion, twice its weight of crude antimony (sulphuret of anti-
mony). The crucible is then to be covered, and the whole is to be
kept in a melting state for some minutes; and when the surface sparkles,
it is quickly to be poured into an inverted cone, which has been previ-
ously heated and greased. By striking the cone on the ground, the me-
MISCELLANEOUS.
797
1
tal will come out when cold. The compact mass consists of two sub-
stances; the upper part is the sulphur of the crude antimony, united
with the impure alloy; and the lower part is the gold, united to some
of the regulus of antimony, proportionable to the quantities of metals
which have been separated from the gold, which are now united with
the sulphur of the antimony. This regulus of gold may be separated
from the regulus of antimony by simple exposure to less heat than will
melt the gold, because antimony is volatile in such a heat, and is then
dissipated. If the gold is not sufficiently purified by this first process
(which is often the case), it must be repeated a second, and even a third
time. When a part is dissipated, more heat is required to keep the gold
in fusion; therefore the fire must be increased towards the end of the
operation. The purification is completed by means of a little nitre
thrown into the crucible, which effectually calcines the remaining re-
gulus of antimony. Sometimes, after these operations, the gold is
found to be deprived of much of its usual ductility; this, however, is
easily restored to it, by fusing it with nitre and borax. The first part
of this process is founded on a property of sulphur, by which it is in-
capable of uniting with gold, and is strongly disposed to unite with all
other metallic substances, excepting platina and zinc; and also upon
the property of sulphur, that it has less affinity with regulus of antimony
than with any metallic substance with which it can unite. Hence,
when gold, alloyed with silver, copper, iron, lead, &c. is fused together
with sulphuret of antimony, these latter metals unite with the sulphur
of the antimony, while the reguline part, disengaged from them by its
sulphur, unites with the gold.
The sulphur of the antimony, though it unites with the baser metals,
does not destroy them, but forms with them a scoria, from which they
may be separated by treatment as an ore.

-

Parting.
When the quantity of silver united to the gold is considerable, they
may be separated by other processes. Nitric acid, muriatic acid, and
sulphur, which cannot dissolve gold, attack silver very easily; and
therefore these three agents furnish methods of separating silver from
gold, which operation is called parting.
Parting by nitric acid is the most convenient, and therefore most
used, and is even almost the only one employed by goldsmiths and
coiners. Wherefore it is called simply parting. That made with mu-
riatic acid is only made by cementation, and is known by the name of
concentrated parting. Lastly, parting by sulphur is made by fusion,
and is therefore called dry parting.
Parting gold from silver by nitric acid or aquafortis.-Although part-
ing by nitric acid be easy, it cannot succeed, or be very exact, unless
we attend to some essential circumstances. The gold and silver must
be in a proper proportion; for if the gold be in too great a quantity,
the silver would be covered and guarded by it from the action of the
acid; therefore, when assayers do not know the proportion of gold to
silver in the mass, they rub the mass upon a touch-stone (which is
usually composed of black basaltes, though black pottery will do very
well), so as to leave a mark upon it; they then make similar marks
with their proof-needles (which are needles composed of gold and silver
alloyed together in graduated proportions), and by comparing the co-

798
MISCELLANEOUS,
`lour of the several marks, they discover the probable scale of admixture.
If the trial shews, that in any given mass the silver is not to the gold
as three to one, this mass is improper for the operation of parting by
aquafortis. In this case, the quantity of silver necessary to make any
alloy of that proportion must be added. This operation is called quar-
tation, because it reduces the gold to a fourth of the whole mass. No
inconvenience arises from too great quantity of silver, except a waste of
aquafortis. The nitric acid or aquafortis employed, must be very pure,
and especially free from mixture of sulphuric and muriatic acids.
purity must therefore be ascertained; and if this be found not sufficient,
the acid must be purified by nitrate of silver.
Its
If the purity of the nitric acid were not attended to, a quantity of
silver proportionable to these two foreign acids would be separated
during the solution; and this portion of silver converted by these acids
to sulphate of silver, and to muriate of silver, would remain mingled
with the gold.
When the metallic mass is properly alloyed, it is to be reduced to
plates rolled up spirally, called cornets, or to grains. These are to be
put into a matrass, and upon them a quantity of aquafortis is to be
poured, the weight of which is to that of the silver as three to two; and
as the nitric acid employed for this operation is rather weak, the solu-
tion is-assisted, especially at first, by the heat of a sand-bath, in which
the matrass is to be placed. When, notwithstanding the heat, no fur-
ther mark of solution appears, the aquafortis charged with silver is to be
decanted. Fresh nitric acid is to be poured into the matrass, stronger
than the former, and in less quantity, which must be boiled in the re-
maming mass, and decanted as the former. Aquafortis must even be
boiled a third time on the remaining gold, that all the silver be certain-
ly dissolved. The gold is then to be washed with boiling water. This
gold is very pure, if the operation has been performed with due atten-
tion. It is called gold of parting.
The silver dissolved in the aquafortis may be separated 'either by
distillation in which case all the aquafortis is recovered very pure, and
fit for another parting-or it may be precipitated by some substance
which has a greater affinity than this metal with nitric acid. Copper is
generally employed for this purpose in the mint.
The solution of silver is put into copper vessels. The aquatortis dis-
solves the copper, and the silver precipitates. When the silver is all
precipitated, the new solution is decanted, which is then a solution of
copper. < The precipitate is to be well washed, and may be melted into
an ingot. It is called parted silver. When this silver has been obtain-
ed from a mass which had been refined by lead, and when it has been
well washed from the solution of copper, it is very pure. Or the silver
may be separated from the nitric acid by adding to it muriatic acid,
with which it forms muriate of silver. Muriate of silver may be de-
composed by mixing it with soda, and exposing it to a sufficient heat in
a crucible, whereby the soda unites to the muriatic acid, and sets the
silver free.


1
The refiners frequently employ this solution of copper obtained in
the process of parting, for making verditer; which is prepared by add-
ing quick lime to the solution; a precipitate takes place, which is the
blue pigment known by the name of verditer.
Parting gold from silver by cementation.-This is also called parting
{
MISCELLANEOUS.
799
1
•
by concentration, and is usually employed when the quantity of gold is
so great to that of the silver, as to render it a difficult task by aqua-
fortis. The mixed metal to be cemented is to be reduced to plates, as
thin as small pieces of money. At the bottom of the crucible, or melt-
ing-pot, is to be laid a stratum of cement, composed of four parts of
bricks powdered and sifted, one part of green copperas (sulphate of
iron) calcined to redness, and one part of common salt, about the thick-
ness of a finger in depth. Upon this stratum a layer of plates of the
metal is to be placed, and then another stratum of cement, and so on
till the crucible is filled. It is now to be placed in a furnace, or oven
(after a top has been luted on the crucible), and exposed for twenty-
four hours, till it is gradually made red hot, but by no means to be
melted. The fire is now left to go out, and the metal is permitted to
cool, that it may be separated from the cement, and boiled repeatedly
in large quantities of pure water. This gold is afterwards to be tried
on a touch-stone; and if it is not sufficiently purified, the process must
be performed a second time. By the above method, we see how power-
fully silver is dissolved by marine acid, when it is in a state of subtile
vapour, which is disengaged from the common salt of the cement. In-
stead of common salt, nitre may be used, as the nitrous acid readily
dissolves silver; but the mixture of common salt and nitre together is
highly injudicious, because the joint acids are able to dissolve some of
the gold with the silver. Whatever silver has been separated will now
remain in the cement; but it may be freed from this by lead, in the
method described in cupellation.

Parting gold from silver in the dry way. This is also called parting
by fusion, and is performed by means of sulphur, which has the pro-
perty of uniting easily with silver, while it does not attack gold. This
dry parting is troublesome, and even expensive, and ought not to be
undertaken but when the silver far exceeds the gold, because sulphur
will not separate it so easily as aquafortis, and will therefore require a
further application to cupellation and solution.
Maddy
Refining Silver by Nitre.
The principle upon which this operation is founded consists in the
property of nitre to oxydate very powerfully all base metals; whereas,
on the contrary, the noble metals are not at all affected by it. For as
the metallic oxydes and glasses do not remain united with reguline me-
tals, and as these latter sink to the bottom when in fusion, on account
of their greater specific gravity, they may be easily parted from the
scoriæ.
The silver to be purified by nitre is to be first granulated, and then
mixed with a fourth part of its weight of dry nitre, an eighth part of
potass, and a little common glass, all in powder. This mixture is to be
put
into a good crucible, two-thirds of which only must be full. This
crucible is to be covered with a smaller crucible inverted, in the bottom
of which a small hole has been made, and luted to the former. The
crucibles, thus disposed, are to be placed in a furnace capable of draw-
ing air sufficiently to make the fire intense enough only to melt the sil-
ver. Then charcoal is to be put into the furnace to such a height, that
only the top of the inverted crucible shall be uncovered. The coal is ·
then to be kindled, and the vessels to be made moderately red; a hot
coal ought to be put upon the small hole in the bottom of the inverted
Jul
1
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800
MISCELLANEOUS
crucible. If a shining light be observed round this coal, and a slight
hissing noise at the same time heard, we may know that the operation
proceeds well. The fire must be sustained at the same degree till these
appearances cease, when it must be increased, so that the silver be well
melted, and then the crucibles are to be taken out of the furnace. The
larger crucible is to be broken when it is cold, and the silver will be
found at the bottom covered with green alkaline scoriæ. If the metal
be not sufficiently ductile, the operation must be again repeated.
Some silver is apt to be lost in this operation, by the swelling and
detonation of the nitre, which often forces it through the hole in the up-
per crucible, unless great care be used; nevertheless, this method has
its advantages, being much more expeditious than cupellatior

Separating Silver from Copper by Eliquatio
When it is desired to separate, in the large way, a small quantity of
silver from much copper with which it is alloyed, the process called eli-
quation is resorted to. This operation is grounded on the nearer affi-
nity of silver with lead than with copper; in consequence of which it
fuses, and combines with lead at a degree of heat in which copper con-
tinues unfused.
Whitening Silver by Boiling.
Whitening of silver by boiling is one of the methods of parting cop-
per from silver in the humid way. For this purpose, silver wrought in
any shape is first ignited to redness, and afterwards boiled in a ley of
muriate of soda, and acidulous tartrite of potass. By so doing, the cop-
per is removed from the surface, and the silver receives a better ap-
pearance.
Precipitating Silver by Copper.
Copper has a much greater affinity with oxygen than silver; conse-
quently, the silver is precipitated from its solutions as a fine silver dust,
by metallic copper. This likewise affords a means to discover what
portion of silver may be contained in an alloy of silver and copper.
A quantity of the mixture determined by weight is dissolved in
nitric acid; the solution is diluted with water, filtered, and a plate of
copper hung in it, till no more precipitate falls down. Then the weight
of the precipitate, when edulcorated, is compared with that of the whole
alloyed metal put to trial.
This silver dust well washed, and mixed with gum water, serves as
a pigment in water painting.
Separating Silver from Copper by an Alkaline Sulphuret.
The affinity of copper with sulphur is stronger than that of silver.
Upon this ground, liver of sulphur (sulphuret of potass) has been pro-
posed as an expedient to free silver from copper; for if silver holding
copper be fused with alkaline sulphuret, the base metal combines with
the latter, and is converted into scoria floating on the silver.
Mr. Keir's Mode of separating Silver from Copper.
Chemists have long been acquainted with the compound acid, called
aqua regia (nitro muriatic acid), which has the exclusive property of
dissolving gold. The discovery of a compound acid, acting exclusively
upon silver, is owing to our contemporary, Mr. Keir,
KISCELLANEOUS.
801
**
?
This compound acid is made by dissolving one pound of nitrate of
potass (common nitre or saltpetre), in eight or ten pounds of sulphuric
acid (oil of vitriol), or by mixing together sulphuric and nitric acids.
This acid dissolves silver easily, while it will not attack copper, iron,
lead, gold, or platina.
These properties have rendered it capable of a very useful application
in the arts. Among the manufactures at Birmingham, that of making
On
vessels of silver, plated on copper, is a very considerable one.
cutting out the rolled plated metal into pieces of the required form and
sizes, there are many shreds, or scraps, as they are called, unfit for any
purpose, but the recovery of the metals, by separating them from each
other. The easiest and most economical method of parting these two
metals, so as not to lose either of them, is an object of some consequence
to the manufacturers. For this purpose, two modes were practised, one,
by melting the whole of the mixed metals with lead, and separating
them by eliquation and testing; and the second, by dissolving both
metals in sulphuric acid, with the help of heat, and by separating the
sulphate of copper, by dissolving it in water, from the sulphat of silver,
which is afterwards to be reduced and purified.


In the first of these methods, there is a considerable waste of lead and
copper; and in the second, the quantity of sulphuric acid employed is
very great: as much more is dissipated in the form of sulphureous acid
than remains in the composition of the two sulphates.
I
Some years ago, Mr. Keir communicated to an artist the method of
effecting the separating of silver and copper, by means of the above-
mentioned compound of sulphuric acid and nitre. It is now commonly
practised by the manufacturers at Birmingham, and is much more eco-
nomical, and much easier executed, than any of the above-mentioned
methods; for nothing more is necessary than to put the pieces of plated
metal into a glazed earthen pan, to pour upon them some of the acid li-
quor, to stir them about, that the surfaces may be frequently exposed
to fresh liquor, and to assist the action by a gentle heat, from 100° to
200° of Fahrenheit's thermometer.

When the liquor is nearly saturated, the silver is to be precipitated
from it by common salt, which forms muriate of silver, or luna cornea,
casily reducible to a metallic state, by melting in a crucible, with a suf-
ficient quantity of potass; and lastly, by refining the melted silver, if
necessary, with a little nitre thrown upon it. In this manner, the silver
will be obtained sufficiently pure, and the copper will remain unchang-
ed. Otherwise, the silver may be precipitated in its metallic state, by
adding to the solution of silver a few of the pieces of copper, and a suf-
icient quantity of water to enable the liquor to act upon the copper.
↓

·
Method of obtaining Gold in a pure State. ·
Perfectly pure gold may be obtained, by dissolving the gold of com-
nerce in nitro muriatic acid, and precipitating the metal, by adding a
weak solution of sulphate of iron. The precipitate, after being well
washed and dried, is pure gold.
3
Method of obtaining Silver in a pure State.
Dissolve the silver of commerce in nitric acid, and add to it some
muriatic acid; a white curdy precipitate will be formed, which is mu-
iate of silver. To reduce muriate of silver to the metallic state, let one
5 K
1
802
MISCELLANEOUS.
part of it be mixed with three of soda, and exposed to a white heat.
When the mixture is well fused; suffer it to cool; then break the cru-
cible, and separate the pure silver from the nuriate of soda which has
been formed.
Method of obtaining pure Copper.
Let the copper of commerce be dissolved in muriatic acid, and preci-
pitate it by a polished plate of iron; the precipitate is pure copper.
Of making Brass, and other Alloys of Copper.
Brass is made by fusing together lapis calaminaris (which is an ore
of zinc) and copper.
Tombac is formed by melting together twelve parts of copper with
three of zinc.

Gun-metal consists of nine parts of copper and one of tin.
Bell-metal is copper alloyed with one-sixth of tin. A smaller pro-
portion of tin is used in making church bells than clock bells, and a lit-
tle zinc is added for the bells of repeating-watches, and other 'small
bells.

Cock-metal is made with copper alloyed with zinc and lead.
The gold coins of this country are composed of eleven parts of gold
and one of copper.
Standard silver contains fifteen parts of silver and one of copper.
+
POTTERY.
Pottery, or the art of making vessels of baked earth, is of the remotest
antiquity. The ancient Greeks and Etruscans particularly excelled in
it. Porcelain, the most perfect species of pottery, has been made in
China from time immemorial.
•
Alumine and silex are two substances of which every kind of earthen-
ware is made. Clay alone shrinks and cracks; the flint gives it soli-
dity and strength.
Common pottery, such as coarse brown jugs, &c. are made of the
ordinary clays, which are a mixture of sand and clay, coloured by oxyde
of iron. The clay is well ground, or kneaded, and a lump of it is put
upon the centre of a wheel which is kept in motion; then, by means of
the workman's hand, or by proper tools, it is formed into the required
shape. The pieces are then dried moderately, so as to bear being re-
moved without danger; they are then covered with a glaze, made from
semi-vitreous oxyde of lead, and put into a furnace, where they are
baked. Some sorts are glazed by throwing sea-salt into the furnace
among the different pieces of pottery. The salt is decomposed, and the
vapours of it form a glazing upon the vessels; but this, though a very
simple and ingenious method, does not form a good glazing.
English stone-ware is made of tobacco-pipe clay, mixed with flints
calcined and ground. This mixture burns white, and vessels of this
were at first glazed with sea-salt. Mr. Wedgwood was the first who
introduced a superior kind of it, now so common, called queen's-ware.
The tobacco-pipe clay is much beat in water; by this process the finer
parts remain suspended in the water, while the coarser, sand, and other
impurities, fall to the bottom.. The thick liquid, consisting of water
and the finer parts of the clay, is further purified by passing it through
hair and lawn sieves, of different degrees of fineness. After this, the
肇
​-
1
1




1
MISCELLANEOUS.
803
liquid is mixed (in various proportions for various wares) with another
liquor of the same density, and consisting of flints calcined, ground, and
suspended in water. The mixture is then dried in a kiln; and being
afterwards beaten to a proper temper, it becomes fit for being formed at
the wheel into dishes, plates, bowls, &c. When this ware is to be put
into the furnace to be baked, the several pieces of it are placed in cases
made of clay, called seggars, which are piled one upon another in the
dome of the furnace; a fire is then lighted, and the ware is brought to
a proper temper for glazing. It is then dipped into a glaze, made by
mixing together in water, till it becomes as thick as cream, 112 parts of
white lead, 24 parts of ground flint, and 6 parts of ground flint-glass.
The ware, by being baked, acquires a strong property of imbibing
moisture, and in this state is called biscuit: when dipped into the glaze,
therefore, it greedily attracts it into its pores, and the ware presently
becomes dry. It is then exposed a second time to the fire, by which
means the glaze it has imbibed is melted, and a thin glassy coat is
formed upon its surface. The colour of the coat is more or less yellow,
according as a greater or less proportion of lead has been used. The
lead is principally instrumental in producing the glaze, as well as in
giving it the yellow colour; for lead, of all the substances hitherto
known, has the greatest power of promoting the vitrification of the sub-
stances with which it is mixed. The flint serves to give a consistency
to the lead during the time of its vitrification, and to hinder it from
becoming too fluid, and running down the sides of ware, and thereby
leaving them unglazed.
CATERERE ARE SE
r



-

This glazing, made by means of lead, is liable to be attacked by
acids, and is supposed to be productive of deleterious effects, when em-
ployed in jars used for pickling, &c.
The following composition has been recommended as a substitute.
To make this, white glass and soda, in equal portions, must be very
finely pulverized, carefully sifted, and well mixed. The mixture is then
exposed to a strong heat, till it is rendered very dry. It is afterwards
put into vessels which have been already baked; is then melted, and
the varnish is made. It may be applied in the same manner as that in
•
common use.
The advantage of it is, that it is safe, and can have none of those
poisonous effects which arise from the decomposition of the lead varnish.
Porcelain, or china, is a semi-vitrified earthen ware, of an interme-
diate nature between common ware and glass. Chinese porcelain is
composed of two ingredients, one of which is a hard stone, called
petuntse, which is carefully ground to a very fine powder; and the
other, called kaolin, is a white earthy substance which is intimately
mixed with the ground stone. The former is of the siliceous, and the
latter of the aluminous genus.
-

The Chinese long excelled in the art of making porcelain, but it is
now made in various parts of Europe of an equally good quality, and
much more ornamental.
By genuine or true porcelain, such pottery is understood as is in-
fusible in the strongest fire excited in furnaces; is hard, but not so
brittle as glass; proof against any sudden and great changes of heat and
cold; finely grained, dense, and without gloss in the fracture; not
glassy, and of a peculiar transparency.
Several compositions of mingled earths may yield a true porcelain,
"
804
MISCELLANEOUS.
•
1
}
by being burnt; and the porcelains of various countries differ in their
mixtures. But the principal basis of any true porcelain is that kind
of clay which becomes white by baking, and which, either by inter-
mingled heterogeneous earth, or by particular additions, undergoes in
the fire an incipient vitrification, in which the true nature of porcelain
consists. Feldspar and gypsum, if added, may give that property to
infusible clay.
!
When porcelain is to be made, the clay is properly selected, care-
fully washed from impurities, and again dried. It is then finely sifted,
and most accurately mingled with quartz, ground very fine; to which,
then, is added some burnt and finely pulverized gypsum. This mass
is worked with water to a paste, and duly kneaded; it is usually suf-
fered to lie in this state for years. The vessels and other goods formed
of this mass are first moderately burnt in earthen pots, to receive a
certain degree of compactness, and to be ready for glazing. The
glazing consists of an easily melted mixture of some species of earths,
as the petrosilex or chert, fragments of porcelain and gypsum, which,
when fused together, produce a crystalline, or vitreous mass, that, after
cooling, is very finely ground, and suspended in a sufficient quantity
of water. Into this fluid the rough ware is dipped, by which the glaz
ing matter is deposited uniformly on every part of its surface. After
drying, each article is thoroughly baked or burned in the violent heat
of the porcelain furnace. It is usual to decorate porcelain by paint-
ings, for which purpose, enamels or pastes, coloured by metallic oxydes,
are used, so easy of fusion as to run in a heat less intense than that in
which the glazing of the ware melts.
Delft-ware, so called because first made at Delft in Holland, is a kind
of pottery made of sand and clay, and but slightly baked, so that it
resists sudden application of heat. Articles made of this are glazed
with an enamel, composed of common salt, sand ground fine, oxyde
of lead, and oxyde of tin. The use of the latter is to give opacity to
the glaze.
Tobacco-pipes require a very fine, tenacious, and refractory clay,
which is either naturally of a perfectly white colour, or, if it have some-
what of a grey cast, will necessarily burn white. A clay of this kind
must contain no calcareous or ferruginous earth, and must also be care-
fully deprived of any sand it may contain, by washing. It ought to
possess, besides, the capital property of shrinking but little in the firë.
If it should not prove sufficiently ductile, it may be meliorated by the
admixture of another sort. Last of all, it is beaten, kneaded, ground,
washed, and sifted, till it acquires the requisite degree of fineness and
ductility.
When, after this preparation, the clay has obtained a due degree of
ductility, it is rolled out in small portions to the usual length of a pipe,
perforated with a wire, and put together with the wire, into a brass
mould rubbed over with oil, to give it its external form; after which it
is fixed into a vice, and the hollow part of the head formed with a
stopper. The pipes, thus brought into form, are cleared of the re-
dundant clay that adheres to the seams, a rim or border is made round
the head, they are then marked with an iron stamp upon the heel, and
the surfaces smoothed and polished. When they are well dried, they
are put into boxes, and baked in a furnace, In the Dutch manufac-
tories, these boxes consist of conical pots made of clay, with conical
1
.
3
.
:



1
*
•
/
7
MISCELLANEOUS,
805
lids, with a tube passing through the middle of them, by which the
pipes are supported; or else, they are long clay boxes, in which the
pipes are laid horizontally, and stratified with fragments of pipes pound-
ed small,
Lastly, the pipes, when baked, are covered with a glazing or var-
nish, and afterwards rubbed with a cloth. This glazing consists of a
quarter of a pound of soap, two ounces of white wax, and one ounce
of gum arabic, or tragacanth, which are all boiled together in five pints
of water, for the space of a few minutes."
↓
·
MANUFACTURE OF GLASS.
This beautiful material is not of modern invention; it was known to
the ancient Romans, but it was by no means common among them,
and they do not appear to have had the method of forming it into
vessels of various shapes as is practised at present.
:
Giass is made by fusing together silex and potass, or soda, in pro-
per proportions. Sea sand, which consists almost entirely of quartz and
flints reduced to powder, is generally used for this purpose. The al-
kali is generally procured from the burning of sea weeds; these are
cut, dried, and burned in pits dug in the ground; after a sufficient
quantity of them have burned in the same pit, a melted or liquid mass
is found in the bottom, which, after being well stirred, is suffered to
cool; it is then called kelp, and consists of a mixture of sodą, potass,
and parts of half burnt weeds, together with shells, sand, and other
impurities.
When the ingredients of which glass is composed are perfectly fused,
and have acquired a certain degree of heat, which is known by the
fluidity of the mass, part of the melted matter is taken out at the end
of a long hollow tube, which is dipped into it, and turned about, till a
sufficient quantity is taken up; the workman then rolls it gently upon
a piece of iron, to unite it more intimately. He then blows through
the tube, till the melted mass at the extremity swells into a bubble,
after which he rolls it again on a smooth surface to polish it, and re-
peats the blowing, until the glass is brought as near the size and form
of the vessel required as he thinks necessary.

·
If it be a common bottle, the melted glass at the end of the tube is
put into a mould of the exact size and shape of its body, and the neck
is formed on the outside, by drawing out the ductile glass.
If it be a vessel with a wide orifice, the glass in its melted state is
opened and widened with an iron tool; after which being again heated,
it is whirled about with a circular motion, and by means of the centri-
fugal force thus produced, is extended to the size required Should a
handle, foot, or any thing else of the kind, be required, these are made
separately, and`stuck on in its melted state.
Window-glass is made in a similar manner, except that the liquid
mass at the end of the tube is formed into a cylindrical shape, which
being cut longitudinally by scissars or sheers, is gradually bent back
until it becomes a flat plate.
Large plate glass, for looking-glasses, &c. is made by suffering the
mass in a state of complete fusion to flow upon a table, with iron ledges ·
to confine the melted matter, and as it cools, a metallic roller is passed
over it, to reduce it to a uniform thickness. There are various kinds
1
806
MISCELLANEOUS.
.
1
of glass manufactured for different purposes; the principal of these
are flint-glass, crown-glass, and bottle-glass.
Flint-glass is the densest, most transparent, colourless, and beautiful.
It is sometimes called crystal. The best kind is said to be manufactur-
ed in London, from 120 parts of white siliceous sand, 40 parts of
pearl ash, 35 of red oxyde of lead, 13 of nitrate of potass, and 25
of black oxyde of manganese. It is the most fusible glass. It is used
for bottles, and other utensils, intended to be cut and polished, and
for various ornamental purposes.
Crown-glass differs from the last, in containing no lead. It is made
of soda and fine sand. It is used for panes of windows, &c.
Bottle glass is the coarsest sort of all. It is made from kelp and
common sand. Its green colour is owing to iron. It is the least
fusible.

Glass is sometimes coloured by mixing with it while in a fluid state,
various metallic oxydes. It is coloured blue, by the oxyde of cobalt;
red, by the oxyde of gold; green, by the oxyde of copper or iron;
yellow, by the oxyde of silver or antimony, and violet by the oxyde
of manganese.
The hardness of glass is very considerable; its specific gravity varies
from 2, 3, to 4, according to the quantity of metallic oxyde which en-
ters into its composition. Though glass, when cold, is brittle, it is
one of the most ductile bodies known. When liquid, if a thread of
melted glass be drawn out, and fastened to a reel, the whole of the
glass can be spun off; and by cutting the threads of a certain length,
there is obtained a sort of feather of glass. A thread of glass may
be thus drawn or spun so fine, as to be scarcely visible to the naked
eye. Glass is almost perfectly elastic, and is one of the most sonor-
ous bodies. Fluoric acid dissolves it at common temperatures, and al-
kalies in a great degree of heat. These are the only substances known
which act upon it.
C.
* Glass utensils require to be gradually cooled in an oven: this opera-
tion is called annealing, and is necessary to prevent their breaking by
change of temperature, wiping, or slight accidental scratches.
Two toys are made of unannealed glass, which, though commonly
used for the amusement of children, exhibit phenomena which justly
interest the curiosity of the philosopher; we mean Prince Rupert's
drops, and the Bologna flask or philosophical phial.
Prince Rupert's drops are made, by letting drops of melted glass fall
into cold water: the drop assumes by that means an oval form, with
a tail or neck resembling a retort. These drops are said to have been
first invented by Prince Rupert, and are therefore called by his name.
They possess this singular property, that if a small portion of the tail
is broken off, the whole bursts into powder, with an explosion; and a
considerable shock is communicated to the hand that grasps it.
The Bologna or philosophical phial, is a small vessel of glass, which
has been suddenly cooled, open at the upper end, and rounded at the
bottom. It is made so thick at the bottom, that it will bear a smart
blow against a hard body, without breaking; but if a little pebble,
or piece of flint, is let fall into it, it immediately cracks, and the bot-
tom falls into pieces: but unless the pebble or flint is large and an-
gular enough to scratch the surface of the glass, it will not break.
11:
The most generally received explanation of these facts is founded on
I
i

MISCELLANEOUS.
801
}
the assumption, that the dimensions of those bodies which are suddenly
cooled, are larger than those which are more gradually cooled. The
dimensions, therefore, of the smooth external surface of these glasses
which are suddenly cooled, are supposed to be larger than is adapted to
the accurate envelopement of the internal part, which is necessarily
cooled in a more gradual manner; if therefore, by a crack or scratch,
a disjunction of the cohesion takes place, in the internal surface, thẻ
hidden action of the parts which remained in a state of tension, to re-
cover that of perfect cohesion, is supposed to effect the destruction of
the mass.
•
IROTECTION OF GROWING CROPS FROM THE DEVASTATION OF
}

۱۴۰
VERMIN.
The good Effects of Elder in preserving Plants from Insects and Flies?
1. For preventing cabbage and cauliflower plants from being devour-
ed and damaged by caterpillars.
2. For preventing blights, and their effects on fruit trees.
3. For preserving corn from yellow flies and other insects.
*For securing turnips from the ravages of flies.
The dwarf elder appears to exhale a much more fœtid smell than the,
common elder, and therefore should be preferred.
*
The Use of Sulphur in destroying Insects on Plants, and its Benefit for
Vegetation.
1
Tie up some flowers of sulphur in a piece of muslin or fine linen, and
with this the leaves of young shoots of plants should be dusted, or it
may be thrown on them by means of a common swan's-down puff, or
even by a dredging-box.
Fresh assurances have repeatedly been received of the powerful in-
fluence of sulphur against the whole tribe of insects and worms which
infest and prey on vegetables. Sulphur has also been found to pro-
mote the health of plants, on which it was sprinkled; and that peach
trees, in particular, were remarkably improved by it, and seemed to
absorb it. It has likewise been observed, that the verdure, and other
healthful appearances, were perceptibly increased; for the quantity of
new shoots and leaves formed subsequently to the operation, and hav
ing no sulphur on their surfaces, served as a kind of comparative in-
dex, and pointed out distinctly the accumulation of health,
Methods of stopping the Ravages of the Caterpillars from Shrubs, Plants,
and Vegetables.
Take a chafing-dish, with lighted charcoal, and place it under the
branches of the tree, or bush, whereon are the caterpillars; then throw
a little brimstone on the coals, The vapour of the sulphur, which is
mortal to these insects, and the suffocating fixed air arising from the
charcoal, will not only destroy all that are on the tree, but will effec-
tually prevent the shrubs from being, that season, infested with them.
A pound of sulphur will clear as many trees as grow on several acres.
Тра
Another method of driving these insects off fruit trees is, to boil
together a quantity of rue, wormwood, and common tobacco (of each
equal parts), in common water. The liquor should be very strong.
Sprinkle this on the leaves and young branches every morning and
evening during the time the fruit is ripening.
1



2
TA
1
>
808
MISCELLANEOUS,
In the Economical Journal of France the following method of guard-
ing cabbages from the depredations of caterpillars is stated to be in-
fallible, and may, perhaps, be equally serviceable against those which
infest other vegetables. Sow with hemp all the borders of the ground
wherein the cabbage is planted: and, although the neighbourhood be
infested with caterpillars, the space inclosed by the hemp will be per-
fectly free, and not one of these vermin will approach it.› ‹
#
1!
می
L


1
f
To prevent the Increase of Pismires in Grass Lands newly laid down.
Make a strong decoction of walnut-tree leaves, and after opening se-
veral of the pismire's sandy habitations, pour upon them a quantity of
the liquor, just sufficient to fill the hollow of each heap: after the mid-
dle of it has been scooped, throw in the contents from the sides, and
press down the whole mass with the foot, till it becomes level with the
rest of the field. This, if not found effectual at first, must be repeated
a second or a third time, when they infallibly will be destroyed.
}
Liquor for destroying Caterpillars, Ants, and other Insects.
Take a pound and three quarters of soap, the same quantity of flower
of sulphur, two pounds of champignons, or puff balls, and fifteen gal-
lons of water. When the whole has been well mixed, by the aid of a
gentle heat, sprinkle the insects with the liquor, and it will instantly
kill them.
To destroy Ants.
Ants are destroyed by opening the nest, and putting in quick lime,
and throwing water on it.
To prevent the Fly in Turnips.
Sow good and fresh seed in well manured and well prepared ground.
To prevent the Destruction of Field Turnips by Slugs.
A few years since, a considerable farmer, near Bath, observing the
turnips in one of his fields strongly attacked by something, discovered,
by accident, that the enemy was really a slug, and immediately prevent-
ed farther damage by well rolling the whole field, by night, which kill-
ed all the slugs..
This was the grand secret which was advertised for two thou-
sand subscribers, at one guinea each, by W. Vagg, for destroying the
fly in turnips, which it will not do!
For preventing Flies from destroying the Seedling Leaves of Turnips, &c.
Mix six ounces of flower of brimstone with three pounds of turnip
seed, daily, for three days successively, in an earthen-glazed pot, and
keep it close covered, stirring all together well at each addition, that the
seed may be the more tainted with the sulphur; this will sow an acre
of ground, and let the weather come wet or dry, it will keep the fly off
till the third or fourth seedling leaf is formed; and by this time they
will all be somewhat bitterish, and consequently very much out of dan-
ger of this little black flying insect, which, in summer time, may be
seen in swarms on the wing near the ground, searching for, and settl-
ing on fresh bites, till they ruin thousands of acres.
(
MISCELLANEOUS.
809
..
To prevent Mice from destroying early sown Peas.
The tops of furze, or whins, chopped. and thrown into the drills,
and thus covered up (by goading them in their attempt to scratch) is
an effectual preventive. Sea sand, strewed pretty thick upon the sur-
face, has the same effect. It gets into their ears and is troublesome.
Another-In the gardens in Devonshire, a simple trap is used to
destroy mice. A common brick, or flat stone is set on one end, in-
clined at an angle of about forty-five degrees. Two strings, tied to a
cracked stick, stuck in the ground, with loops at the ends of the
strings, are brought round to the middle of the under part of the brick,
and one loop being put into the other, a pea or bean, or any other
bait, makes the string fast, so as to support the brick. When the
animal removes the bait, the loops separate, and the brick, by falling,
smothers the animal.
i
·
1
1
Usefulness of Mowing Weeds.
·
In the month of June, weeds are in their most succulent state, and
in this state, especially after they have lain a few hours to wither, hun-
gry cattle will eat greedily almost every species. There is scarcely a
hedge border, or a nook, but what at that season is valuable'; and it
certainly must be good management to embrace the transient opportu-
nity; for, in a few weeks, they will become nuisances.,
Beneficial Purpose to which the Juice of Aloes may be applied.
In the East Indies aloes are employed as a varnish to preserve wood
from worms and other insects; and skins, and even living animals are
anointed with it for the same reason. The havock committed by the
white ants in India first suggested the trial of aloe juice, to protect
wood from them; for which purpose the juice is either used as extract-
ed, or in solution by some solvent.
P
Efficacy of the Juice of Aloes on Ships Bottoms.
Aloes have been found effectual in preserving ships from the ravages
of the worm, and the adhesion of barnacles. The ship's bottom, for
this purpose, is smeared with a composition of hepatic aloes, turpen-
tine, tallow, and white lead. In proof of the efficacy of this method,
two planks of equal thickness, and cut from the same tree, were plac-
ed under water, one in its natural state, and the other smeared with
the composition, When, on taking them up, after being immersed
eight months, the latter was found to be perfect as at first, while the
former was entirely penetrated with insects, and in a state of absolute
rotteness.
To bronze Plaster Figures.
Lay the figure over with isinglass size till it holds out, or without
any part of its surface becoming dry or spotted; then, with a brush,
such as is termed by painters a sash tool, go over the whole, observ-
ing carefully to remove any of the size (while it is yet soft) that may
lodge on the delicate or sharp places, and set it aside to dry: when
it has become so, take a little very thin oil gold-size, and, with as
much of it as just damps the brush, go over the figure, allowing no

5 L
810
MISCELLANEOUS.
a.
more of this size to remain than what causes it to shine. Set it apart
in a dry place, free from smoke; and after it has remained there forty-
eight hours, the figure is prepared for bronzing.

1
The bronze, which is almost an impalpable powder (and may be had
at the colour shops, of all metallic colours) should be dabbed on with
a little cotton wool; after having touched over the whole figure, let it
stand another day; then, with a soft dry brush, rub off all the loose
powder, and the figure will resemble the metal it is intended to repre-
sent, and possess the quality of resisting the weather.
To blue Mourning Buckles, Swords, &c.
Take a piece of grindstone and whetsone, and rub hard on the work,
to take off the black scurf from it; then heat it in the fire, and as
it grows hot the colour changes by degrees, coming first to a light, then
to a dark gold colour, and lastly to a blue. Indigo and salad oil,
ground together, is also used, by rubbing the mixture on the work, with
a woollen cloth, while it is heating, leaving it to cool of itself.
་

+
Composition tɔ take off Casts of Medals.
Melt eight ounces of sulphur over a gentle fire, and with it mix
a small quantity of fine vermillion; stir it well together, and it will dis-
solve like oil; then cast it into the mould, which is first to be rub-
bed over with oil. When cool, the figure may be taken; and touched
over with aqua-fortis, and it will look like fine coral.
Method of Sweeping Chimnies without employing Children, and the Danger
attending the old Method pointed out.
Procure a rope for the purpose, twice the length of the height of
the chimney; to the middle of it tie a bush (broom, furze, or any
other), of sufficient size to fill the chimney; put one end of the rope
down the chimney (if there be any windings in it, tie a bullet or
round stone to the end of the rope), and introduce the wood end of
the bush after the rope has descended into the chamber; then let a per-
son pull it down. The bush, by the elasticity of its twigs, brushes the
sides of the chimney as it descends, and carries the soot with it. If
necessary, the person at top, who has hold of the other end of the rope,
draws the bush up again; but, in this case, the person below must
turn the bush, to send the wood end foremost, before he calls to the
person at top to pull it up.
Many people, who are silent to the calls of humanity, are yet atten-
tive to the voice of interest; chimnies cleansed in this way never need
a tenth part of the repairs required where they are swept by children,
who, being obliged to work themselves up by pressing with their feet
and knees on one side, and their back on the other, often force out the
bricks which divide the chimnies. This is one of the causes why, in
many houses in London, a fire in one apartment always fills the adjoin-
ing ones with smoke, and sometimes even the neighbouring house.
Nay, some houses have even been burnt by this means; for a foul
chimney, taking fire, has been frequently known to communicate, by
these apertures, to empty apartments, or to apartments filled with tim-
ber, where, of course, it was not thought necessary to make any exa-
mination, after extinguishing the fire in the chimney where it began.
1

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MISCELLANEOUS.
811
}
New Method of clearing Feathers from their Animal Oil.
Take, for every gallon of clear water, a pound of quick-lime; mix
them well together; and, when undissolved lime is precipitated in fine
powder, pour off the clear lime-water for use at the time it is wanted.
Put the feathers to be cleaned in another tub, and add to them a suf-
ficient quantity of the clear lime-water to cover the feathers about three
inches, when well immersed and stirred therein. The feathers, when
thoroughly moistened, will sink down, and should remain in the lime
water three or four days; after which, the foul liquor should be sepa
rated from the feathers, by laying them on a sieve. The feathers
should be afterwards well washed in clean water, and dried on nets,
the meshes being about the same fineness as those of cabbage nets. The
feathers must, from time to time, be shaken on the nets; and, as they
dry, they will fall through the meshes, and are to be collected for use.
The admission of air will be serviceable in the drying, and the whole
process may be completed in about three weeks. The feathers, after
being thus prepared, will want nothing more than beating for use, either
for beds, bolsters, pillows, or cushions.

To preserve the natural Colour in Petals of dried Flowers.
Nothing more is necessary than to immerse the petals for some mi-
nutes in alcohol. The colours will fade at first; but in a short time
they will resume their natural tint, and remain permanently fixed.
Art of Gilding Iron or Steel.
Dissolve, in aquaregia, with the assistance of a little heat, as much
gold as will fully saturate it; then, adding cream of tartar, form it into
a paste. Any bright piece of steel or iron, such as the blade of a knife
or razor, &c, being first wetted with water, or saliva, and then rubbed
with this paste, will be instantly gilded in a beautiful manner; after
which, it is to be washed with cold water. If a thicker coat of gold be
desired, gold leaf may be laid on, and burnished hard, when it will ad-
here to the first gilding; and, if the nature of the thing gilded will ad-
mit of heat, by warming it, but not so as to become red hot, and then
burnishing it, any thickness of gilding may be easily added.
▸

Composition for Gilding Brass or Silver.
Take two ounces of gum-lac, two ounces of karabe, or yellow amber,
forty grains of dragon's blood in tears, half a drachm of saffrou, and
forty ounces of good spirits of wine: infuse and digest the whole in the
usual manner, and afterwards strain it through a linen cloth: when the
varnish is used, the piece of silver or brass must be heated before it is
applied: by this means it will assume a gold colour, which is cleaned,
when soiled, with a little warm water.
To make Shell Gold.
7
Take the paring of leaf gold, or even the leaves themselves, and re-
duce them into an impalpable powder, by grinding them on a marble
with honey; put this into shells where it will stick and dry; when you
want to use it, dilute it with gum-water.
N. B. Shell silver is made the same way.

812
MISCELLANEOUS.
To clean Gold, and restore its Lustre.
Dissolve a little sal-ammoniac in urine; boil your soiled gold therein
and it will become clean and brilliant.
To Silver Glass Globes.
Take two ounces of quicksilver, one ounce of bismuth, of tin and
lead half an ounce of each: first put the tin and lead in fusion, then
put in the bismuth, and when you perceive all in fusion, let it stand
till almost cold, and then pour in the quicksilver.
£
+
After this take the glass globe, which must be very clean, and the
inside free from dust, make a paper funnel, which put in the hole of the
globe, as near the glass as you can, so that the amalgam, when you pour
it in, may not splash and spot the glass: pour it in softly, and move it
about that the amalgam may touch everywhere; if you find it begin to
be curdly, hold it over a gentle heat, and it will flow again; the cleaner
and finer your globe is, the looking-glass will be the better.
To Cut Glass.
Take a red hot shank of a tobacco-pipe, lay it on the edge of your
glass, which will then begin to crack, then draw the shank end a little
gently before, and it will follow any way you draw your hand.
Substitute for Hemp and Flax.
As hemp and flax (lint) are now very high priced, if the public would
turn their attention to the urtica dioica (common nettle), an excellent
hemp might be obtained from it, by cutting it just before the seed is
ripe, and steeping it in water, as they do hemp or flax, and manufactur-
ing it the same way; the root of the plant is esteemed to be diuretic,
and the roots, boiled with alum, will dye yarn a yellow colour. It is
likewise used by making a strong decoction of the young plant, and salt
put to it, and bottled up, which will coagulate milk, and make it very
agreeable; by which means that plant, which is an obnoxious weed,
might be turned to good account.
To Braze or Solder Pieces of Iron.
This is done by means of thin plates of brass, melted between the
pieces that are to be joined. If the work be very fine, as when two
leaves of a broken saw are to be brazed together, cover it with pulveriz-
ed borax, melted with water; that it may incorporate with the brass
powder which is added to it: the piece must be then exposed to the fire
without touching the coals, and heated till the brass is seen to run.
BLACKING.
In three pints of small beer, put two ounces of ivory black, and
one pennyworth of brown sugar. As soon as they boil, put a de-
sert-spoonful of sweet oil, and then boil slowly till reduced to a quart.
Stir it up with a stick every time it is used.
Another. Two ounces of ivory black; one tea-spoonful of oil of vi-
triol, one table-spoonful of sweet oil; and two ounces of brown sugar;
roll the same into a ball, and to dissolve it add half a pint of vinegar.
Another. Take ivory black and brown sugarcandy, of each two
1
1
1
1
1
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•
813
ounces; of sweet oil a table-spoonful; add gradually thereto a pint of
vinegar, cold, and stir the whole till gradually incorporated.
M
MISCELLANEOUS.

Another.-To one pint of vinegar add half an ounce of vitriolic acid,
half an ounce of copperas, two ounces of sugarcandy, and two ounces
and a half of ivory black: mix the whole well together.
Another.-Sweet oil, half an ounce; ivory black and treacle, of each
half a pound; gum arabic, half an ounce; vinegar, three pints; Loil
the vinegar, and pour it hot on the other ingredients.
Another. Three ounces of ivory black, one ounce of sugarcandy, one
ounce of oil of vitriol, one ounce of spirits of salts, one lemon, one table-
spoonful of sweet oil, and one pint of vinegar.-First mix the ivory
black and sweet oil together, then the lemon and sugarcandy, with a
little vinegar to qualify the blacking; then add your spirits of salts and
vitriol, and mix them all well together.
N. B.-The last ingredients prevent the vitriol and salts from injur-
ing the leather, and add to the lustre of the blacking.
1
Another.--Ivory black, two ounces; brown sugar, one ounce and a
half; sweet oil, half a table-spoonful. Mix them well, and then gra-
dually add half a pint of small beer.-Proved.
Another.-A quarter of pound of ivory black, a quarter of a pound of
moist sugar, a table-spoonful of flour, a piece of tallow about the size of
a walnut, and a small piece of gum arabic.-Make a paste of the flour,
and while hot put in the tallow, then the sugar, and afterwards mix the
whole well together in a quart of water, and you will have a beautiful
shining blacking..
Blacking Balls for Shoes.
Mutton suet, four ounces; bees'-wax, one ounce; sugarcandy and gum-
arabic, one drachm each, in fine powder; melt these well together over
a gentle fire, and add thereto about a spoonful of turpentine, and ivory
and lamp black, sufficient to give it a good black; while hot enough to
run, you may make it into a ball, by pouring the liquor into a tin mould;
or let it stand till almost cold: you may mould it in what form you
please by the hand.
A celebrated Blacking Cake for Boots and Shoes.
Take one part of gum tragacanth, four parts of river water, two parts
of neats'-foot, or some other softening lubricating oil, two parts of su-
perfine ivory black, one part of Prussian blue in fine powder, or indigo,
four parts of brown sugarcandy; boil the mixture; and when the com-
position is of a proper consistence, let it be formed into cakes of such a
size that each cake may make a pint of liquid blacking.
Genuine Preparation of the Famous Chemical Liquid for Boot Tops, &c.
Many of the liquids, sold under various denominations, for the pur-
pose of cleaning and restoring the colour of boot tops, &c. are found
very imperfectly to answer that purpose, and often to injure the leather.
The following genuine receipt may be fully relied on, for actually pro-
ducing this desirable effect, as well as for readily taking out grease,
ink spots, and the´stains occasioned by the juice of fruit, red port wine,
&c. from all leather or parchment :---Mix in a phial, one drachm of oxy-
muriate of potass with two ounces of distilled water; and, when the
f






814
MISCELLANEOUS.
*
salt is dissolved, add two ounces of muriatic acid. Then, shaking well
together, in another phial, three ounces of rectified spirit of wine with
half an ounce of the essential oil of lemon, unite the contents of the two
phials, and keep the chemical liquid thus prepared closely corked for
use. This chemical liquid should be applied with a clean sponge, and
dried in a gentle heat; after which, the boot tops may be polished with
a proper brush, so as to appear like new leather.

+
•
To clean Boot Tops, or any tannned Leather.
Boil one quart of milk; let it stand till cold, then take one ounce of
oil of vitriol, one ounce of spirits of salts; shake them well together,
and add one ounce of red lavender. You may put half a pint of vinegar,
with the white of an egg beat to a froth.
7
To prevent Shoes from taking in Water.
One pint of drying oil, two ounces of yellow wax, two ounces of
turpentine, and half an ounce of burgundy pitch, melted carefully over
a slow fire. If new boots or shoes are rubbed with this mixture, either
in the sun shine, or at some distance from the fire, with a sponge or
soft brush, and the operation is repeated as often as they become dry,
till the leather is fully saturated, they will be impervious to wet, and
will wear much longer, as well as acquiring a softness and pliability
that will prevent the leather from ever shrivelling.
Note.Shoes or boots prepared as above ought not to be worn till
perfectly dry and elastic, otherwise their durability would rather be
prevented than increased.
To prevent Snow Water or Rain from penetrating the Soles of Shoes or
Boots in Winter.
This simple and effectual remedy is nothing more than a little bees'-
wax and mutton suet, warmed in a pipkin, until in a liquid state; then
rub some of it slightly over the edges of the sole where the stitches are,
which will repel the wet, and not in the least prevent the blacking from
having the usual effect.
To restore the Lustre of Gold or Silver Lace, when tarnished.
When gold or silver lace happens to be tarnished, the best liquor
that can be used for restoring its lustre is spirits of wine; it should be
warmed before it is applied to the tarnished spot. This application will
preserve the colour of the silk or embroidery.
}
To clean, Gilt Buckles or Toys.
Rub a little soap on a soft brush, dip the same in water, and gently
brush the article you intend cleaning for a minute or two, then wash
the same clean off, wipe it and place it near the fire till it is perfectly
dry, then burn a piece of bread, pound it to a fine powder, and brush
your articles with it as you do silver goods with whitening.
A black Varnish for Gentlemen's old Straw or Chip Hats.
Take best black sealing wax, half an ounce; rectified spirit of wine,
two ounces; powder the sealing-wax, and put it, with the spirit of wine,
into a four ounce phial; digest them in a sand heat, or near a fire, till
£


1
MISCELLANEOUS.
815
the wax is dissolved; lay it on warm with a fine soft hair brush, before
a fire, or in the sun. It gives a good stiffness to old straw hats, and a
beautiful gloss equal to new, and resists wet. If the hats are very
曹​物
​brown they may be brushed over with writing ink, and dried before the
varnish is applied. Spirit of turpentine may probably be used in the
place of the spirit of wine,
.
To prevent Gentlemen's Hats from being spotted after a Shower of Rain.
If your hat is wet from rain, or any other cause, shake it out as much
as possible; then with a clean linen cloth or hankerchief wipe the hat
very carefully as well as you can, observing, that in so doing you keep
the beaver flat and smooth, in the same direction as it was first placed,
then with your hands fix it in the original shape, and hang it at a dis-
tance from the fire to dry. A few hours after, or the next morning, lay
the hat on a table, and brush it round and round several times with a
soft brush in the proper direction, and you will find your hat not in
the least injured by the rain.
+
;
✔
If the gloss is not quite so high as you wish, take a flat iron, mode-
rately heated, aud pass the same two or three times gently over the hat;
brush it afterwards; and it will be nearly as handsome as when first
sent home from the shop.
Preventives against the Ravages of the Moth.
The most usual preventives against the injury occasioned by the moth
are cedar wood and tobacco leaves. A piece of the former put into a
a box, if sufficiently large to emit its peculiar odour to whatever may
be contained in it, will effectually preserve the cloth from injury; and
it is well known, that in libraries where there are books bound with
Russia leather, which is tanned with cedar, no moth or worm will cor-
rupt. It is common to put cedar shavings and chips into boxes, &c.
which answer just as well as the wood itself.
་
Tobacco leaves may be placed at certain intervals in the folds of a
piece of wollen cloth; and it is sufficient to examine them once in six
months, in order to renew the leaves if necessary.
:
An easy Method of preventing Moths in Furs or Woollens.
Sprinkle the furs or woollen stuffs, as well as the drawers or boxes
in which they are kept, with spirits of turpentine; the unpleasant scent
of which will speedily evaporate, on exposure of the stuffs to the air.
Some persons place sheets of paper, moistened with spirits of turpen-
tine, over, under, or between pieces of cloth, &c. and find it a very ef
fectual method.
}
1

To preserve Furs, Woollens, &c.
Many woollen-drapers put bits of camphor, the size of a nutmeg, in
papers, on different parts of their shelves in their shop; and as they
brush their cloths every two, three, or four months, this keeps them
free from moths; and this should be done in boxes where furs, &c.
are put. A tallow candle is frequently put within each muff when
laid by.
霸
​MISCELLANEOUS.
816
I
R
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To keep Moths, Beetles, &c. from Clothes.
A
Put a piece of camphor in a linen bag, or some aromatic herbs, in the
drawers, among linen or woollen clothes, and neither moth or worm
will come near them.
[
To purify Wool infested with Insects.
The process of purification consists in putting into three pints of boil-
ing water a pound and a half of alum, and as much cream of tartar,
which are diluted in twenty-three pints more of cold water. The wool
is then left immersed in this liquor during some days, after which it is
washed and dried, After this operation it will no longer be subject to
be attacked by insects.
:
Chinese Method of rendering Cloth Water-proof.
To one ounce of white wax, melted, add one quart of spirits of tur-
pentine, which, when thoroughly mixed and cold, dip the cloth in and
hang it up to dry. By this cheap and easy method, muslin, as well as
the strongest cloths, will be rendered impenetrable to the hardest rains,
without the pores being filled up, or any injury done, when the cloth is
coloured.
New Method of cleaning Silks, Woollens, and Cottons.
The following receipt is recommended as a good method of cleaning
silk, woollen, and cotton goods, without damage to the texture or colour
of the same:
Grate raw potatoes to a fine pulp in clean water, and pass the liquid
matter through a coarse sieve into another vessel of water; let the mix-
ture stand still till the fine white particles of the potatoes are precipitat
ed; then pour the mucilaginous liquor from the fecula, and preserve
the liquor for use.
The article to be cleaned should then be laid upon
a linen cloth on a table, and having provided a clean sponge, dip the
sponge into the potatoe liquor, and apply it to the article to be cleaned,
till the dirt is perfectly separated; then wash it in clean water several
times. Two middle-sized potatoes will be sufficient for a pint of water.
The white fecula will answer the purpose of tapioca, and make an use-
ful nourishing food, with soup or milk, or serve to make starch and
hair-powder. The coarse pulp, which does not pass the sieve, 18 of
great use in cleaning worsted curtains, tapestry, carpets, or other coarse
goods. The mucilaginous liquor will clean all sorts of silk, cotton, or
woollen goods, without hurting or spoiling the colour; it may be also
used in cleaning oil paintings, or furniture that is soiled. Dirtied paint-
ed wainscots may be cleansed by wetting a sponge in the liquor; then
dipping it in a little fine clean sand, and afterwards rubbing the wain-
scot with it.
Permanent Ink for marking Linen.
Take of lunar caustic (now called argentum nitratum) one dram;
weak solution, or tincture of galls, two drams. The cloth must be first
wetted with the following liquid, viz. salt of tartar, one ounce; water,
one ounce and an half; and must be perfectly dry before any attempt
is made to write upon it.
▸


4

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FARRIERY.
817
!
CHAP. XXV.
?
THE ART OF FARRIERY.
Hints to the Purchasers of Horses.-To purchase a horse free from
blemish and imperfection, is, by experience, found to be a task more
difficult and arduous than the whole art of horsemanship; and there is
no kind of traffic wherein there are so many deceptions practised, as in
the sale of horses. It may not be unserviceable, therefore, to put down
a few short directions on this subject, by way of precaution to the un-
wary, and such as have been the dupes of dealers and jockies, whose
business it is to impose on the credulity of the novice, by disguising
every imperfection in the beast, and discovering imaginary beauties.
"I remember," says Mr. Wilson, "once to have seen a horse, which, I
judged from his appearance, had been in several very indifferent hands:
excessive labour had evidently been his portion, and many an ungrate-
ful blow its reward; but, notwithstanding this, the remains of a most
beautiful symmetry were yet discoverable in him. The dealer, in my
presence, whipped the animal so cruelly, that I could not forbear re-
monstrating with him on the severity of his treatment. To which he
replied, "that he had certainly the same right as other tradesmen, to
set off his commodity in the most advantageous light possible; and who
would be to blame," he asked, "but myself, was I not to exercise that
right: but if you know not the utility of what you saw, know then,”
continued he, (at the same instant giving a crack with his whip, which
made the poor scared creature ready to fly through the manger)
"that
it was to collect his scattered spirits together, in case a purchaser should
drop in.".
"A fig for the humanity of the world!" said I ; " and is it
thus every poor devil of a horse that unfortunately falls into thy hands,
is to be whipped out of his skin, merely for the sake of thy advantage?"
Upon which he left the stable. The horse looked behind him the mo-
ment he heard his master quit the stable. On walking up, in order to
cherish him, I observed the tears rolling down his face; which operated
so strongly on my affections, that I declared I would never more see an
animal beaten unjustly, without punishing the offender."
There are many inconveniences arising from an immoderate use of
the whip, whicd might be easily obviated, was it used rather sparingly,
and with a little more lenity than it commonly is: for, instead of doing
any real good, it not only makes the horse fearful of every motion you
make about him, but it becomes very dangerous to go near him; as by
his uneasiness, and shifting from side to side (expecting every moment
a beating), he may probably throw you down, and trample you under
his feet. We recollect witnessing a distressing scene, which happened
to a man who made it a constant rule to whip the horses he had on sale
three or four times a day, to make them show more life and spirits, as
he termed it; when a horse struck him down, and almost trampled him
to death.
Before you make choice of a horse, you should consider for what oc-
cupation you design him; and acquaint yourself with all the excellencies
1
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•

5 M

818
FAERIERY.
✓
"the past, a to je 3 m
and imperfections of these useful creatures: for, as the moderately thin-
shouldered, long-backed, tall, and flat-ribbed horse, is best adapted for
racing; the short-backed, small-jointed, and round-barrelled horse, for
travel; the moderately large, and lean-head, a large windpipe that hangs
rather loose from the fleshy pannicle, small close nostrils, high withers,
and the generality of the shape strong and well knit together, for hunt-
ing; the broad-backed, full-shouldered, thick-withered, wide-breasted
horse, provided his legs are short-jointed, straight, strong, and well-pro-
portioned, for a collar; so the small horse, with a short back, small head,
short-jointed, and thin legs, of a well-proportioned, and handsome shape,
should be chosen for ease, and summer pleasure.
On entering the stable, in order to select a horse, the first thing neces-
sary to be done, is, to see how he stands on his legs; and, particularly,
that no person is in the stable with him; for, trust me, if there is any de-
fect in either of those members, you will soon discover it by his shifting
the position, and but just touching the ground with the toe of the leg
affected.
:
Having satisfied yourself as to this particular, order him to be taken
into some yard, or open place; but remember to be the last in the stable,
or the dealer, or some of his attendants, will make it their business to fig
him without your knowledge, unless you keep an attentive eye to their
L
•
duct: for these fellows being in the constant practice of it, are so ex-
pert, that one would imagine it was done by a kind of slight of hand.
The practice of figging prevails throughout the kingdom, and is so
cruel in its nature, that I think, in humanity, it ought to be disused.
It is done by thrusting a piece of ginger up the fundament, which makes
the horse carry his tail high, and appear to greater advantage, though
but for a very short time.
Every person must be aware, that the subtile fiery nature of the gin-
ger must cause a very uncomfortable sensation in that part: for the
horse cannot stand still a moment while it remains there, consequently
it is unnecessarily teazing a horse, and setting but a very temporary ad-
vantage on him, just so long as the dealer can wring the money out of
your purses; for the very next day, to your great chagrin, he will look
five pounds worse for the experiment.
•
The horse being now before you in an open place, and not near any
white wall, take your station about three or four paces off, in a line with
his breast; observe his countenance, that it is cheerful, sprightly, and.
free from heaviness and gloom: That the ears are thin, small, evenly
set, and terminate in a point; for if they are thick, long, too closely set
to each other, and drooping, it is not only a great deformity, but such
a horse will be dull, heavy, and sleepy. The face should be lean, and
free from flesh; the forehead broad, and rather swelling outward; a star
or blaze thereon, are considered marks of beauty and courage: but if
the forehead is flat, the face in general flat and cloudy, and a baldness
appear on the nose, they are deformities. If the eyes are round, black,
shining, not too big, but rather protuberant, so that they move about
their orbits with a quick and lively motion, and in doing it little or
none of the whites appear,-they are good. But if, on the contrary;
they look of a yellow cast, dull, moist, and sunk,—they are bad. The
nostrils should not be so large as, upon every little effort, to occasion the
muzzle to become wide, distended, and the inside redness to appear;
that being a sure sign of a short wind, and weakness. The muzzle of
FARRIERY.
819
{
the nostrils should be small, and the inside free from moisture; the up-
per lip should not hang over the lower one, but both meet evenly toge-
ther; and particularly observe, that the horse is not shallow-mouthed.
From the head, look down to the chest: if it is broad, prominent,
and muscular, it denotes beauty and strength; whereas the narrow chest
is an evidence of deformity and weakness; the legs, being set too close
together, will interfere with the motion of each other, and thereby
greatly hinder speed, cause the horse to stumble, and sometimes to
fall. The thighs should be fleshy, sinewy, and moderately outward
swelling; so that, upon any little strain, or movement of the body, the
muscles thereof may be clearly discerned: for they are signs of strength;
the contrary, of weakness. Particular care should be taken in examin-
ing the knees; that they are lean, sinewy, 'close-knit, and evenly pro-
portioned: but if they appear swelled, and feel soft as if a quantity of
wind had collected between the skin and flesh; or, if one knee ap-
pears larger than the other, or looks thin and bristly, the hair broken,
&c.—these are true marks of a stumbler: and such a horse ought to be
rejected.
In examining the pasterns, see that they are flat, lean, and free from
every kind of scab, seam, and swellings. They should be strong,
straight, and rather short; for a long pastern shews weakness; and such
a horse cannot perform a long journey without tiring.
•
Nothing is more essentially necessary to be observed in the purchas-
ing a horse, than the formation of the hoofs, which are the grand found-
ation of the whole mechanism of the animal; for, if they are bad, the
superstructure, however finely proportioned, cannot possibly be good.
The hoofs should be smooth, tough, rather long, deep at the heel,
and either black or dark brown: the former are the best proof against
the effects of hard and bad roads. The white hoofs are tender, and
subject to foundering. The light brown ones are brittle, consequently
will not carry a shoe well. A round hoof proceeds from contraction,
and the flat ones shew foundering.
If the hair on the coronet, or top of the hoof, lies smooth, close, and
the flesh even therewith, it is perfect; but if the hair on that part
looks thin, bristly, with little scales, or scabs on the skin, and the flesh
swelling over the hoof, I would advise you not to buy such a horse, as
they are the forerunners of ring-bones, crown-scabs, quittor-bones, &c.
Be particularly careful in examining the bottom of the feet; placing
your thumb on the frog, compress it rather sharply, in order to disco-
ver any defect that might be there;-that they are large, spreading,
open, and sound. I believe, I need not remind you, that the spongy,
running, and decayed frogs are to be rejected.
You are now to stand about three paces off, in a line with the horse's
shoulder, and take a side view of him: the neck should be small, and
rather short than long; and particularly observe, that no swelling ap-
pears on the setting on of the head. The shoulders should lie rather
backward, and come round with a good sweep, and rise well up to the
withers.
A horse low in the shoulders will be continually getting the saddle
on his neck, unless a crupper is affixed to it. This, beside being very
ungraceful, will cause him to stumble, and very probably to break
down. The tail should stand rather high, flat, and bending a little
inward; which, if the horse has a good buttock, it will do: but on a
$
}

820,
FARRIERY.
bad buttock, a hog or goose rump, a tail cannot stand well-They
are objectionable deformities.
You are now to take a view of the hind parts, standing at a conve-
nient distance from the horse, that you may more advantageously see
that the hips are broad, round, and even; also that the hind legs are
lean, flat, and sinewy. Be careful that they are not fat or swelled, and
that one elbow of the hock is not larger than the other; that no
seams or scars appear thereon; and that he is not bow-legged.
Various are the arts used by dealers, to prevent your discovering the
true age of a horse by his teeth. It is therefore useless to write a long
dissertation on that subject, as it would serve to perplex my reader,
rather than to enlighten his judgment.
The shortest and most certain method to judge whether a horse is
young or old is this:-Turn back both lips; if the teeth are small,
white, glossy, and fit evenly together, he is young; but if they are
large, long, yellow, irregularly set, and the top row project over the
bottom, the tusks yellow, or of a blackish colour,—he is old.
Having finished your examination of the horse, see him walk and
trot in hand; and let not the groom haul his head about, nor be too
free with his whip; but that he leads him carelessly by the extreme
end of the halter or bridle, as, by that means you will discover any de-
fect that might possibly be in the joints, or if he be a stumbler.
Observe the motion of the legs: that the near fore leg, and the far '
hind leg, or the far fore leg, and the near hind leg, move, or shoot, at
one and the same time; and that the hind legs do not obstruct the mo-
tion of the fore ones, but that all act in unison.
Order the groom to take his back, and, standing behind him, see
how he walks: that he carries his head even, and the bit level in his
mouth; that he does not bear down, nor pull on either side; but walks
and trots straight, lifting his legs well off the ground with boldness,
at the same time managing all smoothly.
If a horse makes a clattering noise in his gallop, he interferes; that
is, by treading too long, or making too much play with the hind leg,
he strikes the toes thereof against the corners of the shoes before,
which occasions a very disagreeable noise.
It is a natural imperfection, occasioned by uneven proportion; for,
on critically examining such a horse, you will find him not only low in
the shoulders, which causes weakness in the fore legs, but that the
hind ones will be longest.
A horse, to gallop well, should lead off with his far fore foot, and
lift his feet well off the ground, at the same time not raising them too
high; and, in spreading his fore legs, he should follow even and lightly
with the hind ones, without cutting under the knee, or injuring the
back sinews of the fore ones.
Having seen the different paces of the horse, and formed a good opi-
nion of him, it will not be unreasonable to request, particularly if you
are the least known to the dealer of whom you are about to purchase,
that you may be permitted to ride him a mile or two; and should he
object to such a proposal, you would be warranted in forming a very
unfavourable judgment of the horse, as well as of himself. If he per-
mits to ride the horse, when you are mounted, let him go his own
pace, holding a loose rein: you will then have a better opportunity of
knowing whether he be a stumbler; or whether he is sure-footed, and
you
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}
goes forward boldly, without halting or starting at every object which
presents itself; at the same time, that he is not heavy or dull; they
both have their bad effects, and ought to be rejected for these reasons:-
The startlish horse, by his timidity, exposes you every moment to im-
minent danger; whilst, on the other other hand, the, sleepy or sluggish
horse provokes you every moment.
Observations on Breeding.
If you would have a colt free from imperfection, be careful that there
is none in either the mare or stallion; but that they are youthful, sound,
and of a good breed. As to colour, it is of little consequence, as I con-
ceive a good horse cannot well be of a bad colour; but endeavour to let
their marks be as much alike as possible. The mare should be four-
teen, and the stallion fifteen hands high; and not more than six or se-
ven, or less than four years old, when they are brought together.
A mare will bring foals at three years old; but they will be stronger
and better shaped at four.
I would advise you not to breed in fenny or swampy grounds; the
grass on such land being so gross, will breed humours in the blood.
-
4
The land being also too moist, will soften the hoofs, and make them
grow larger than nature intended them; by which means a light car-
cassed colt would be completely spoiled; the gross feeding alone would
make his body heavier than his limbs could well sustain.
The hoofs being grown too large and heavy, will cause the legs to
swell; so that, at the best, the motion of such a colt would not be near
so good as that of a Flanders mare.
Supposing for a moment you would have a colt to do you credit as
well as service, let the situation for breeding be a stony or gravelly soil,
abounding with little hills; for they are of most excellent use for the
colts to play on, and in which they much delight; it will make their
hoofs tough, their legs well knit and sinewy; and the grass on which
they feed not being too gross or luxuriant, they will be well-proportion-
ed, and of exquisite symmetry.
If you have several mares with foal at one time, remember to keep
them separate when they have foaled; as, otherwise, one or other of
the young, by going to each other's dams, might probably get a kick
that would lame him for ever after.
Colts may be weaned at seven or twelve
give them oats, bran, and short sweet hay.
in a mill, or moistened with boiling water;
give it them too warm. Peas and beans are
strong, and of a heating quality.
In the winter season they should be taken into the stable en-
tirely, and made familiar to you, by rubbing them often with a horse-
hair cloth, leading them to water, lifting up and setting down their feet;
by which means you will find it facilitate the breaking and taming them
considerably. And here I must caution you against letting servants
teach them bad tricks, as kicking, biting, and rearing on their hind feet;
for if they do, it will be a difficult task to break them of such vicious
habits.
!
months; as you may then
Your oats may be cracked
but be careful you do not
to be avoided: they are too
On Training Colts.
At two or three years old a colt should be trained; and if he is any-
wise gentle, take a strong snaffle bridle, rub a little honey on the bit,
+
;
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822
FARKIERY.
T
and let him receive it at his mouth. Take him to some field, and exer-
cise him in the ring for the space of an hour, several mornings together;
; and if you find that he is tractable, you may then offer him the saddle;
but take care you do not frighten him: this may be prevented by hang-
ing the saddle in a situation that he may always see and smell it when
the groom takes him in and out of the stable to water, &c.
When you have got the saddle on his back, make the girths fast gra-
dually; then take it off, and place it on again, two or three times, so
that he may become acquainted with it; and with what he seems most
shy or fearful, with that make him familiar.
Having bridled and saddled him, let him stand about an hour in the
stable; then lead him into some field or open place; and, in order to
inure him to the saddle, clap it with your hand, rub the stirrups against
his side, sway upon them, &c. By frequently tutoring him in this man-
ner, he will soon understand his business.
When you have taught him to walk and trot quietly with the saddle
and bridle, you may venture to take his back, not too suddenly, but by
degrees; first putting your foot into the stirrup (having some person
to assist you, and to govern his head), and raising yourself gradually, till
he will suffer you to stand with your whole weight in the stirrup. If
he shrinks, and is fearful, do not mount, but trot him in the ring again,
using all gentleness and cherishings with the voice; then try him again;
and if he is willing to receive you, settle yourself in the seat, and take
the stirrups. Be careful that your tackle is strong and good; for, should
he spring a girth or crupper, he may roll you in the dirt.
а
When you are properly settled, and have received the stirrups, the
person who governs. his head must lead him forward about a dozen
yards; then make much of him, and, if he is quiet, dismount and re-
mount alternately; teaching him to go forward, and stop upon the re-
straint of the bridle hand.
Having taught him to walk and trot boldly forward,, without start-
ling at every object he sees, you may then venture to canter and gallop.
By exercising him in this manner twice every day, he will soon become
perfect in all his paces; and you will not regret the trouble you had in
teaching him.
M
Directions for Riding.
If you would acquire the art of riding gracefully, and at ease, in
which most gentlemen take much pleasure, apply yourself to the fol-
lowing short directions, and you will soon attain it.
A snaffle bridle is best for the purpose of learning to ride.
When the horse is brought out of the stable, teach him to stand
steady whilst you mount; at first holding a rein in each hand, till you
are acquainted with the proper use of them, and can command your
horse with the bridle hand only.
You must sit firm in the saddle; the body carried upright, and the
shoulders back.

The arms are to be kept close and firm to the sides; the elbows level,
and in a line with the back; the knees turned in, and pressed against
the saddle, and a little bent.
The legs should be carried straight down, the ball of the foot resting
in the stirrups, so that you can just bear upon them, to command your
own body and the motion of the horse.
Being thus seated, walk him round a circle, then trot, and lastly
"
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FARRIERY.
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canter; always keeping the outside hand elevated about three inches
higher than the inside one, which must be held shorter, and kept firm
to the side.
مي
The inside leg must be compressed close to the horse's side, and the
outside one carried a little forward, and projecting so as not to touch
with it.
The stirrups should neither be too long nor too short; nor should
persons learning to ride ever use them till they can ride well without :
by this method the cavalry are taught, and an excellent practice it is.
When you have trotted about half a dozen times round the circle,
change hands, to ease yourself and horse, by riding across it in the
shape of an S.
Having obtained a knowledge of the use of the reins, in the chang-
ing of hands, and various turns, learn to govern your horse with the
bridle hand alone, which will at first seem rather awkward, but by
practice you will soon get the better of it.
I have but this to add upon the subject, that if you conform to these
directions, and exercise yourself in them for a fortnight or three weeks,
it will so settle your body and limbs to, and acquaint you with the dif-
ferent paces and general motion of the horse, that you will not only ride
gracefully, but considerably more at ease ever after.
Directions for Using a Horse on a Journey.
Before you undertake any long journey, it is necessary to be careful
that your horse is not newly taken from grass. He should be kept in
the stable a week, at least, previous to your setting out; because he will
then be cleansed, in some degree, of the foulness which grazing brings
on, especially if he has been at grass for any length of time; in which
case a gentle purge may be necessary to assist nature in carrying it off.
He will then have nothing but solid food in him, and therefore be able
to pursue your intended journey with spirit, and without tiring.
When he is brought out of the stable, examine the girths and stirrup
leathers; that they are strong and good, that his shoes are tight, and
that he is not curbed too high, in order that as few obstructions as pos-
sible may occur on the road; for, on these things, trivial as they ap-
pear, depend much of the security, as well as the pleasure of
journey.
If all is right, make the horse stand firm and immoveable till you are
properly seated, and have adjusted your dress.
When you would have your horse go forward, do not let him feel
whip or spur immediately, but convey your meaning to him by some
kind of signal, as by pressing the calves of your legs against his sides;
for he is an animal so docile and governable, provided you use gentle
means, that he will obey if he does but understand you.
>
Ride moderately the first mile or two, that his blood may not become
warm within him too suddenly: you may then quicken his speed by
degrees, according as your occasions, or the importance of your business
requires, so as not to overheat your horse, because the violence of such
exercise will eventually set his blood a boiling in his veins; and the
velocity thereof will be so great, that fevers, surfeits, eruptions of the
skin, &c. will inevitably be the consequence.
You may safely permit your horse to wash his mouth at every little
stream, or watering place on the road; as it will greatly refresh him,
ソ
​824
· FARRIERY.
水道​を
​and erable him to proceed with spirit, provided you do not let him
drink too much; therefore two or three gulps or swallows may be al-
lowed him at any time. I would advise you always to contrive to let
your horse drink his fill, if he is not over warm, about a mile from the
town at which you intend to stop; as the water will then warm in his
stomach by the time you arrive at the inn, which is far preferable to
the common mode of watering in the stable.
After you have finished the day's journey, see that your horse is put
into a warm stable, and is well cleaned, clothed, and washed, that the
hoofs are scraped out, and that he has plenty of good sweet hay; always
avoiding every kind of stuffing composed of cow-dung, clay, tar, &c.
which is kept by the ostler, at almost every inn, in town and country—
They are of too cold a nature.
It is also a good method, to moisten a sufficient, quantity of bran,
with any kind of grease, over the fire, in a pipkin; then to put a ball
of it into each foot, and to cover it with a piece of coarse cloth or tow,
making it fast with a couple of splints.
On Stable Management.
Particular regard should be had to the situation and materials of
which a stable is built: it should not be built with stone, as in damp or
wet weather it is apt to sweat; and the continual evaporation of mois-
ture through the walls, will make it very unhealthy for the residence of
horses; insomuch that disease, and sometimes death, must unavoidably
be the consequence.
A stable should stand detached from all other buildings, and no cess-
pool, gutter, or sink should be near it. Nothing can be more whole-
some than a brick-built stable; wood may answer very well, but brick
is much warmer.
}
The rack should be placed in such a manner, that no hay dust can
fall on the horse's head: the pavement should not be raised so high at
the manger as is common, but just so that the water may drain off; for
by raising the floor too much at the head, the principal weight of the
horse is thrown on the hinder legs, which will cause them to swell.
The refuse of potatoes, where they are plentiful, washed clean, are
excellent for horses; and may be given occasionally, by way of change,
instead of corn; about a gallon at one time: they are very wholesome
food; and horses that feed on them soon get into condition.
Carrots are not good for horses: they do not digest kindly, therefore
are to be rejected. Turnips are very good, if given in small quantities.
?
The way to get a horse into condition, is not by continually filling his
rack with hay, and cramming him with corn, as some people suppose;
but by observing regularity in giving him his food, frequently, and in
small quantities. The hay should be tied up hard, in small pottles, or
trusses, by which means there will be less waste. You may give him
now and then some sweet grains, mixing a handful of salt in them,
which will cleanse the intestines and destroy worms.
On the choice of a groom, the perfection or imperfection of a horse in
a great measure depends.
A man that is of dissolute, debauched, or irregular life, or of feroci-
ous habits, is by no means a proper person for a groom: such a man
will beat your horse in your absence; and whatever defect you discover
1
2
FARRIERY.
in your horse, should not be attributed to him, but to the mismanage-
ment of the groom.
Let the man, therefore, whom you intend for this occupation be
thoroughly acquainted with his business, and a complete horseman ; let
him be also steady, mild, and gentle-tempered; as your horse will be
most likely to thrive and become useful under the care of such a man.
J
825
On the Gelding of Horses.
•
It is seldom that the gelding of a colt is attended with any bad acci-
dent; it is a very simple and easy operation, so that any country far-
rier may do it safely, by cauterizing the extremities, and filling the scro-
tum with salt. But this method will not answer the purpose in a full-
grown horse, especially if either of the testicles are bruised or hurt; it
will then require the assistance of a skilful operator.
The horse being first cast on a soft place, open the scrotum on each
side, turn out the genitals, and with a well waxed thread tie the string
to stop the blood, when you may with a sharp knife cut them off.
The wound may be dressed with pledgets dipped in spirits of wine
and camphor; or with the green ointment alone.
If an inflammation should ensue, and the sheath and belly swell, it
must be treated with warm fomentations, and the horse kept rather
sparingly; making his water milk-warm, in which should be sprinkled
a little oatmeal; or give him thin barley-water to drink.
On Docking Horses.
The real cause of so many horses dying after the operation of dock-
ing is the want of skill; as also proper instruments to do it with. I
once saw a horse docked in the country, by laying the tail on, what is
called a bill-hook, and making the blow upon it with a mallet; which
is very wrong, as the tendons must be very much bruised by making
the blow upon the tail.
The only instrument applicable to this operation is a proper docking
knife, which should be passed through a joint, if possible, while the
tail lies on the block.
The searing iron should not be flaming hot when you apply it; be-
cause the sparks which fly from it will cause an intolerable pain, which
falls down to the fundament and sheath, and will probably bring away
the burnt part along with it; in which case, bleeding will ensue; you
will then be obliged to apply it again.
The searing iron should be well polished, and rubbed very clean with
a woollen cloth before it is used. When the scar is got off, wash the
part with lime-water.
On Nicking Horses.
When the horse is cast on a soft place, with a sharp knife, cut three
nicks under the tail; in order that the depressing muscles may be un-
strung, and the elevating ones act alone. A piece of tow dipped in
powdered rosin and spirits of wine, may be placed between each nick;
wrapping a bandage of the same round the whole of the tail, to pre-
vent the application from falling out.
}
The best method which has been yet contrived to keep the tail in an
erect posture, after nicking, is a pulley with a weight affixed to the
end of the cord.
5 N
$26
FARRIERY.
Having finished these observations in as plain a manner, and with
as few technical terms as possible; we shall now treat on the various
diseases incident to that useful creature, the horse; and prescribe the
best and most easily obtained remedies.
Bleeding and Purging, the farrier always considers a striking proof
of his consequence, and a never-failing mark of his infallibility; but
it never can be tooo much discouraged, and in fact ought by no means
to be countenanced, or indeed permitted. If no particular plethora or
fulness appears, to render large evacuations necessary, three pints will
prove sufficient for a slender or delicate subject; two quarte for the
more advanced in strength or size; but from the very large and strong,
or remarkably foul horses, may be safely drawn full five pints. How-
ever, these distinctions should be carefully made by measure, to avoid
the inconvenience and danger of too much relaxing the whole system;
an impropriety in conduct that may not be so easily remedied as ima-
gined. After this evacuation, let the same regular system of food,
and gentle exercise be continued for three clear days; and on the
fourth prepare his body for the physic intended to be taken on the fol-
lowing morning, by giving him in the course of the day three mashes
of equal parts of bran and oats, scalded with boiling water, and given,
at a proper degree of warmth, morning, noon, and night; putting on
the necessary body clothes, at the time of giving the first mash, to
prevent the least hazard of cold from the relaxation of either body or
pores. In the morning give one of the following purging balls, of
which four different proportions are specified, and calculated for the
horses before mentioned, in respect to strength, size, and constitution.
But as we shall, in the course of the work, have occasion to introduce
references to these cathartic balls, under the heads of various diseases,
it will be more convenient to distinguish them by numbers; and, be-
ginning with the weakest, the reference need only be made to the
number in future, without a repetition of the ingredients.
1
+
Purging Ball, No. 1.-Take of succotrine aloes one ounce; India
rhubarb two drachms; jalap and cream of tartar each one drachm;
ginger (in powder) two scruples; essential oil of cloves and aniseed
each twenty drops; syrup of buckthorn a sufficient quantity to form
the ball.
No. 2.-Take of succotrine aloes ten drachms; of rhubarb, jalap,
and ginger, each two drachms; cream of tartar three drachms, and
syrup of buckthorn to make the ball.
No. 3.-Take Barbadoes aloes nine drachms; jalap, castile soap, and
cream of tartar, of each two drachms; diagrydium and ginger (in
powder) each a drachm; syrup of buckthorn sufficient to make the
ball.
No. 4.-Take Barbadoes aloes ten drachms; castile soap and jalap
(in powder) of each half an ounce; cream of tartar and ginger each
two drachms; oil of aniseed forty drops; of cloves twenty drops;
which form into a ball with syrup of roses or buckthorn.
•
It is almost unnecessary to observe these balls are gradually increased
in their purgative qualities, so as to be selected by the judgment of
the reader, according to the state of strength and foulness the subject
may be in; and are so carefully guarded with warm aromatics, that
the operation will (by a strict adherence to the following rules) in ge-
neral proceed without the least alarm or danger. The ball being given
+
FARRIERY.
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1
}
early in the morning, let it be washed down with a quart of water
slightly warm, to take off the nausea as much as possible; leave in his
rack a little sweet hay; and, in about three hours after, give a warm
mash of scalded bran, containing one fourth of oats; upon which let
the water be poured boiling hot, and stand a proper time to cool, be-
fore it is put into the manger; as, by placing it there too hot, the
fumes produce an antipathy which the horse does not easily get over;
on the contrary, by touching the mash, and being burnt, will not be
prevailed upon to attempt it in future. In case of a fixed aversion to
mashes, a feed of bran may be given at the stated periods, in which
may be mixed one quart of ground oatmeal. Water proportionally
warm may be given him to the quantity of half a pail thrice in the day;
and let his mash be repeated twice that day also, and early on the fol-
lowing morning, about which time the physic may be expected to be-
gin its operation; but if the mash should be refused, a pail of warm
water may be substituted; and in two hours after the horse (well cloth-
ed) walked out for half an hour at least. Frequent supplies of warm
water must be given, and two other mashes at their proper times; by
no means omitting to take him out, and walk him gently twice or thrice
in the course of the day, But, as purgatives administered to quadru-
peds of this description cannot, from the great continuation of the in-
testinal canal, be expected to commence their operation in less than
twenty-four hours, no hurrying or forcing methods must be taken to
agitate the animal, or produce preternatural effects. So soon as the
medicine begins to operate, kindly and patiently assist the work by the
means before-mentioned, at stated periods, or at such times as the appe-
tite will permit them to be taken; continuing the mashes no longer
than the physic is said to be set, or (in other words) the excrements be-
come firm, and resume their original form.
Six clear days should be allowed between the first and second dose,
and the same space between the second and third. The entire course
being regularly gone through, it will undoubtedly remove every degree
of foulness, resulting from full feeding at grass: and, unless some pal-
pable defect or latent obstacle indicates the contrary, he will (in little
more than a fortnight) by his flesh, coat, and spirits, prove his ability
to undertake any moderate chase in which his rider may be inclined to
engage.
A Purging Drink.—Take senna two ounces; infuse in a pint of boil-
ing water two hours, with three drachms of salt of tartar; pour off and
dissolve in it four ounces of Glauber salts, and two or three drachms of
cream of tartar.
When the rectum is plugged up so as to prevent the passing of the
pipe for the injection of a glyster, which should be given immediately
with a large bag and pipe procured for the purpose, and repeated if ne-
cessary; making not the least doubt but this lubrication and stimulus
will remove all obstructions, and afford every advantage that can be
obtained from the favourite and long standing practice of raking.
To prepare a Glyster,-Take of camomile flowers, sweet fennel, and
coriander seeds bruised, of each one ounce; carraway seeds half an
ounce; boil in two quarts of water till reduced to three pints; then
strain, and add for solution, while hot, of Epsom salts two ounces; and,
when rearly cool enough to administer, add of olive oil, and tincture of
senna, commonly called Daffy's elixir, of each a quarter of a pint
!
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FARRIERY.
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On the contrary, where the constitutional stamina does not prove so
strong as imagined, the bowels in a weaker state than expected, or the
medicines are found to irritate or purge more than is requisite or de-
sired; and the physic does not set at the usual time (the horse being
consequently low, and off his appetite), let the following cordial restrin-
gent ball be prepared and given immediately, repeating it in six or
eight hours if necessary.
Take mithridate one ounce, Armenian bole, gum arabic, and pre-
pared chalk (in fine powder), each half an ounce; ginger (in powder)
two drachms; syrup of diacodium, quantity sufficient to make a ball.
In three hours after let the following restringent mash be given, pro-
perly prepared and kept occasionally stirring when over the fire, to
prevent its bnrning: or this may be given, if necessary, without the
ball, where the operation has not been so violent as to require both.
Restringent Mash.-Take two pounds of rice, and half an ounce of
cinnamon, bruised to a gross powder, and tied up loose in a piece of
linen (fine enough to prevent its passing through); boil in five quarts
of water till reduced to the consistence of a mash; take out the cinna-
mon, and stir in a quart of ground oatmeal, and let it be placed in the
manger when of a proper warmth. This may be repeated if necessary.
Splents. These are hard excrescences of different shapes and sizes
on the shank bone, which often disappear of themselves. They are not
dangerous but when situated near the joints, or appear very large upon
the back part of the bone, and press against the back sinew. They
are an enlargement of the periosteum (or membrane covering the bone),
by an original rupture of the small vessels, and the extravasated fluid
collected and become indurated by time.

In either case the only expectation of cure without anxiety and dif-
ficulty, is to be careful in observing the appearances, in their earliest
state; and then seeing that frequent friction is used for a consider-
able time, twice every day, with the utmost force of the operator's
hands, letting the part be well moistened, after each time of rubbing,
with a proportion of the following liniment, leaving a pledget of tow
wet with the same, bound on pretty firm with two yards of wide
tape as a roller.
Take camphorated spirits of wine, and spirits of turpentine, of each
four ounces (a quarter of a pint). Mix together.
Or,—Oil of origanum and spirits of turpentine, each half an ounce;
camphorated spirits of wine, two ounces.
Mix.
1
When this plan has been persevered in for ten days or a fortnight,
you will then be able to judge whether any perceptible advantage has
been obtained from the force of these powerful repellents: if not, pro-
cure two ounces of the strongest mercurial ointment, and let the size
of a hazel nut be well rubbed in upon the part affected, every night
and morning, till the whole is consumed, using the roller each night,
and taking it off in the morning. If this does not succeed, the best
and most speedy method will be the immediate extirpation, by making
a longitudinal incision through the integuments, dissecting and ex-
tracting the substance, completing the cure by taking up a couple of
stitches, and treating it as a superficial wound; for which directions
will be found under that head.
do de pr
Spavins. Of these there are two kinds, very distinctly explained by
most authors on the subject, and justly denominated a blood and bone
""
•
FARRIERY.
829
·
spavin. They both take their seats in nearly the same situation, and
proceed from the following causes-a blood spavin is a preternatural
enlargement of the vein running on the inside the hough, and by the
accumulated fluid forms a swelling that is pliant to the touch, sub-
mitting to pressure, becoming, in the course of time, productive of
lameness. These appearances, were they attended to in their infancy,
would (as observed in the preceding article) immediately submit to a
frequent application of the following embrocation; rubbing in about
two table spoonfuls twice every day, and keeping on (when in the
stable) a pledget of tow, wet with the same, and confined with an
elbow bandage; that is, the elbow part of an old waistcoat sleeve,
opened and furnished with tape strings, at equal distances, to confine
it
upon the part affected.
Take of strong white wine vinegar four ounces; camphorated spirits
of wine three ounces; extract of saturn, commonly called Goulard's
extract, one ounce; shake well together at every time of using.
In almost all cases of short standing the cause of complaint will sub-
mit to the power of these constant applications, that, by their action
upon the solids, so restore their elasticity and contract their circum-
ference, as to repel the internal expanding fluid, and reduce the vein
to its natural and original size. But where the defect is of long stand-
ing, and will not submit to this mode of treatment (the attempt hav-
ing been sufficiently persevered in to ensure a fair probability of suc-
cess), the following had better be adopted.
Take of cantharides (in powder) one drachm and a half; of olive oil
two ounces.-Mix together. And let this be gradually rubbed upon
the part till absorbed by the seat of disease; then place over it a piece
of flannel, and fasten on with the elbow-bandage as before described.
In every eight-and-forty hours repeat this operation for a week (with
the same proportion), which has been attended with certain success in
a multiplicity of cases, particularly in the metropolis of Ireland, where
the most eminent practitioners (and very able there are) prefer it to
our general method. The great advantage resulting from this kind
of blister is its immediate stimulus upon the parts, from which is
derived a very speedy and plentiful discharge. The hair is raised
up, and becomes what is termed pen-feathered, during the efflux of
serum, in large proportion; which, subsiding, forms a kind of scurf,
and may be all brought away in a few days by washing two or three
times with soap and water; leaving no scar or trace of external ap-
plication behind. And surely this method, justified by success and
experience, must be preferable to the long-standing opinion of in-
strumental extirpation. As for instance, an incision is to be made
through the skin, of sufficient length to admit of the vein's being
taken up, above and below the enlargement, by passing a crook-
ed needle, furnished with a wax thread, underneath the vein, and
making the ligatures at the parts most applicable to the extirpation in-
tended. Should any inflammation or extreme swelling attend the parts
after operation, warm formentations and mild poultices must be made
use of till they subside; after which the wound must be treated with
digestives till the exuberance is sloughed off with the dressings, and
the cicatrization, or skinning over, is accomplished, as in the case of
abscesses and wounds, which must always be treated by the professional
farrier.
;
1
$80
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
1
I
"
Every degree of information, observation, and experimental investi-
gation, defines a bone spavin to be exactly in a greater degree behind!
what a splent is acknowledged to be before; formed nearly by the
same means, fed nearly in the same manner, differing only in its cri-
tical situation; which; from a contiguity to the joints, and ligamentary
appendages, become so much the more an object of concern and at-
tention, to avoid the certain impediment of lameness, which will in
time inevitably ensue, if not prevented by reduction or extirpation.
-
•
Windgalls--Are these prominences situate on both sides the tendons
(commonly called the back sinews) above the fetlock joints on the fore-
legs, and not unfrequently upon the hind-legs likewise. They are
much larger on some horses than others, and as they never appear but
upon those that have been constantly worked too young, or propor-
tionally overworked when older, the cause will be the more readily ex-
plained. For the tendons, by their perpetual action in constant labour,
are so preternaturally extended, that some of the fine and delicate fibres
of which the aggregate is composed, are, by such extension, actually
ruptured or broken; from the mouths of which (minute as they are)
ooze a very trifling portion of serum, or fluid, which, when extravasat-
ed, forms a gelatinous substance; and, combining itself with the in-
cluded air, becomes, to external appearance, a kind of bladder between
the tendon and integuments..
Į

CHAP. XXVI.
POLITICAL ECONOMY, OR THE NATURE AND CAUSES
OF THE WEALTH AND POVERTY OF NATIONS.
THE labour of a nation is the original source of its supplies, which
consist in the produce of that labour, or what is purchased with it.
The productive power of labour, or its capacity of yielding supplies,
may be improved. The principal cause of this improvement is the di-
vision of labour, or distributing the labour necessary to produce any
commodity among several hands. The general effect of this division
may be understood, from observing its operation in particular manu-
factures. In pin-making, ten men, by taking each his distinct part of
the labour, can make 48,000, or 4,800 to one man; whereas a man not
brought up to the business would certainly not be able to make 20 pins
in a day. The division of labour cannot be carried so far in agricul-
ture as manufactures. The benefit of the division of labour arises from
the improved skill and dexterity of workmen; from the saving of time
commonly lost in passing from one employment to another; and from
the use of machines to facilitate and abridge labour, which are either
owing to the ingenuity of workmen wholly employed in one operation,
or to that of artificers or philosophers who have made one branch of
labour or science their occupation. The increase of productions by the
3
1

FOLITICAL ECONOMY.
831
division of labour increases wealth, as it gives every individual a greater
power of communicating, and therefore of procuring, articles of utility
or convenience,
The division of labour arises, by slow degrees, from a propensity in
human nature to barter and exchange. Men obtain supplies in one
kind by communicating them in another. One man, ingenious or dex-
terous in any particular article, exchanges the productions of his own
labour for those of others; and finding this the best way of supplying
his wants, applies himself wholly to one kind of employment. With--
out this distribution of labour, all having the same necessary work to
do, none would have an opportunity of displaying particular talents,
nor would the labours of one man be useful to another.
The division of labour is limited by the extent of the power of ex-
change, or the market. In small towns there cannot be so many dis-
tinct trades as in large ones. Water-carriage, by extending the market,
encourages industry. Hence the sea-coasts, or borders of rivers, are
first civilized; and many countries continue barbarous for want of ri-
vers or canals.
In the first simple forms of barter, exchange must be limited by the
mutual wants of the persons concerned: unless each party needed the
superfluities of the other, there could be no commerce. To remedy this
inconvenience, every person, besides the produce of his own labour,
would endeavour to keep by him such commodities as would be most
likely to be generally received in exchange thus cattle, fish, hides,
shells, have been made common instruments of commerce. At length
metals were generally adopted for this purpose, partly because they
are exceedingly durable, but principally because they are capable of be◄
ing divided without loss, and thus conveniently proportioned to any
quantity of commodity. Iron, copper, gold, and silver, have been used
as money, first in rude bars, afterwards in stamped pieces to prevent
adulteration, then in coin to save the trouble of weighing. Money was
received by weight, not by tale, till avarice and injustice raised the no-
minal above the real value.
The value of any thing, in exchange, is its power to purchase other
goods. The real measure of the value of all commodities is labour.
Every man is rich or poor, according to the quantity of the produce of
labour which he can purchase. The exchangeable value of any com-
modity is therefore equal to the quantity of labour which it will enable
the owner to command. Money varies in value, according to the de-
gree of difficulty with which it is obtained, and from other causes, and
cannot therefore be a certain measure of the value of other things; but
equal quantities of labour must at all times be of equal value to the la-
bourer; labour therefore will be an invariable measure of value. La-
bour, as well as other commodities, has a real and a nominal price; the
real, the quantity of real goods which is given for it; the nominal, the
sum of money paid for it. Money is an exact measure of the value of
goods at the same time and place; but at different times and places it
varies. Corn is a good measure of the value of commodities from cen-
tury to century, because it will nearly command equal quantities of la-
bour from century to century; but from year to year it varies on ac-
count of the fluctuation of the seasons: nothing but labour is an uni-
form measure of real value. The nominal value of any commodity is
the quantity of gold or silver for which 'it is sold, without regard to
▼
832
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
1
CAPTION
the denomination of the coin. Six shillings and eight pence was the
same money price in the time of Edward II. with a pound sterling at
present, containing as much pure silver.
The price of every commodity may be resolved into one or more of
these three parts: the wages paid for the labour spent upon it, the pro-
fit allowed for the stock employed in carrying on the manufacture, and
the rent of land. Corn, flour, flax, and most other articles, resolve their
price into these three parts: that of fish commonly arises only from two
of them, wages and profit of stock. The price of all the commodities
which compose the whole annual produce of the labour of every coun-
try taken complexly may be thus resolved. All revenue is derived from
wages, profit, or rent. The revenue arising from interest, is stock lent
to be employed by another, and is therefore only a division of profit
between the borrower and lender. Rent and profit, and wages and
profit, are sometimes confounded by those who farm their own estates.
In every society or neighbourhood there are average rates of wages,
profit, and rent, which may be called the natural rate. The natural
price of any commodity is that which is just sufficient to pay the rent
of land, wages of labour, and profits of stock, according to the natural
rates. The actual or market price often differs from the natural price;
being regulated by the proportion of supply and demand. When the
market price sinks and continues below the natural price, either rent,
wages, or profit, must be lowered; when it rises, one or more of these
will rise. In those articles which do not afford regular produce accord-
ing to labour, as grain, &c. the market price must be subject to fre-
quent variations. The market price is often kept up above the natural
price, by concealing the increase of demand, by preserving secrets in
manufactures, by monopolizing the sale, and by all laws which limit
competition in particular employments. It seldom continues long be-
low the natural price; for, in this case, the seller feeling the loss, will
soon lessen the supplies and raise the demand.
The natural price of commodities varies according to the different na-
tural rates of wages, profit, or rent, each of which are fluctuating. The
causes of the variations in each are next to be considered.
The wages of labour depend upon the contract made between the la-
bourer and the owner of stock, who employs him. In forming this
contract, the employers have the advantage of the labourers; the latter
not being able so easily to enter into combinations, or live without la-
bour. Masters are always in a sort of tacit combination not to raise the
wages of labour. Labourers seldom gain any thing, either by offensive
or defensive combinations. But there is a certain rate, below which it
seems impossible to reduce wages for any considerable time; it must
always be sufficient for the maintenance of the individual, with some
surplus for his family. Wages will naturally rise with an increasing
demand for workmen, which will happen when masters increase in re-
venue and stock, or the surplus of what is necessary for their own
maintenance and employment This increase of revenue and stock is
the increase of national wealth. In wealthy countries not increasing,
but stationary, the number of labourers is generally too great, and a
competition on their side reduces the price of labour, as in China.
Wages in Great Britain are higher than is barely necessary; for sum-
mer wages are generally highest, though winter expences are greatest ;
the lowest wages are therefore adequate to the highest necessary ex-
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
833
pences. Wages do not fluctuate with the price of provisions; they are
therefore adequate to the highest price of them. Wages vary, in dif-
ferent places, much more than the price of provision, and are often
lowest when that price is highest. Wages have greatly increased, not
only nominally but really, during the present century. For-while the
price of labour has been raised, grain has been somewhat cheaper than
in the last century till the year 1764, since which time a long series of
unfruitful years have raised the price : several other kinds of vegetables
and coarse clothing are also cheaper; so much as to balance the ad-
vance upon sundry articles by taxation. The luxuries among the com-
mon people sufficiently prove this. This improvement in the circum-
stances of labourers is a great advantage. It increases personal happi-
ness, promotes matrimony and population, and encourages industry by
increasing their strength and chearfulness, and giving them hopes of
bettering their condition. It has been observed, that the poor do more
work in cheap than in dear years.
↓
The profit of stock is lowered by the general increase of stock, in
consequence of the increasing competition it occasions. Profits are ex-
ceedingly variable, from the variations of demand, the circumstances of
purchasers, and many accidental causes. No certain knowledge of their
average can be obtained. The best idea of them may be formed from
the state of interest, which will bear a proportion to the profits to be
made from the borrrowed stock, and may perhaps generally be reckon-
ed to be one half of the profits; it being a general remark, that double
interest is moderate or usual profit. But interest is no measure of the
flourishing or declining state of a nation; for a diminution of profit,
and consequently of interest, may be the consequence of increasing
stock and a prosperous trade; or, on the other hand, profits may be so
great, and new opportunities of employing stock may occur in the course
of trade so exceedingly advantageous, that it may be worth while to
give very high interest for money.
+
In the same society or neighbourhood the advantages and disadvan
tages of different employments of labour or stock must be equal, or tend-
ing to equality; else one branch would be overstocked and another de-
serted. The circumstances which tend to produce this equality, by
making up for a smaller pecuniary gain in some employments, and
counterbalancing a greater in others, are these: the agreeableness or
disagreeableness of the employment; the easiness and cheapness, or the
difficulty and expensiveness of learning them; the constancy or incon-
stancy of employment in them; the small or great trust reposed in those
who practise them; and the probability or improbability of success in
them. These circumstances however can only operate towards produc-
ing an equality in the whole of the advantages or disadvantages of dif-
ferent employments, when the employments are well known and long
established, when there is no extraordinary increase or defect of demand,
and where one employment is followed solely or principally.-Other
inequalities in the advantages or disadvantages of different kinds of em-
ployments of labour or stock arise from the restrictions or encourage-
ments of law. Of the former kind are the exclusive privileges of cor-
porate bodies; such as, requiring that those who follow any trade
should have served an apprenticeship in the town under a master pro-
perly qualified, allowing each master only a certain number of appren
tices, and obliging each apprentice to serve a certain number of years.
1
+
1
50°
834
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
14
ent;
Of the latter kind are such establishments as make provision for the
education of youth in particular employments. These inequalities are
farther increased by such regulations as obstruct the free circulation of
labour and stock from employment to employment, and from place to
place: the former is done by the laws relating to apprenticeships, the
latter by corporations, and by the poor-laws, which make it difficult for
the poor to remove and exercise their industry in a parish' to which they
do not belong. This is a great infringement of natural liberty, and one
principal cause of the very unequal prices of labour in different places.
Laws to fix the rates of wages, or prices of goods, are wholly unneces-
sary: the natural operation of plenty or scarcity of work or demand will
sufficiently regulate them.
{
The third constituent part of the value of commodities is rent of land.
It is claimed from the landlord, on account of his property in the land,
and the stock he has laid out upon it. Rent arises from that part of the
price of produce, which is more than sufficient to defray the price of la-
bour, and the profit of stock upon the farm. It will therefore be high
or low, according to the price of produce. Some products of land al-
ways afford rent; and some do not always afford it. Land always pro-
duces more corn and pasture than is sufficient to maintain the labour
and replace the stock employed upon it. The situation of land near
large towns increases the rent, by diminishing the labour necessary for
conveying its produce to market. Inland navigations and good roads
have the same effect Corn fields produce more food than pasture, and
would therefore be more profitable, if the same weight of food from each
was of equal price. In the beginning of agriculture, corn is more
scarce than cattle, because these are fed on uncultivated wilds; but the
increase of cultivation throws the balance in favour of corn. There it
becomes necessary to raise the price of cattle, till they will yield the
landlord as much rent, and the farmer as much profit, as they might
have gained by employing their improved land in the growth of grain:
this, at the same time, raises the rents and profits of unimproved pas-
ture. In some situations, pasture ground is much more profitable than
corn, particularly near large towns. Where there is not sufficient ex-
tent of land to grow both grass and corn, it is eligible to grow the bul-
kier commodities, and purchase grain, as was the case in ancient Italy,
and is at present in Holland. The price of butcher's meat, in propor-
tion to that of bread, is lower in England than formerly. The profits
of all other kinds of productions are regulated by those of corn and pas-
ture, except where the demand is much greater than the supplies; as
in some vineyards, and the sugar plantations. Rice, yielding a greater
quantity of food from the same land, than corn with the same labour,
the rents from rice lands must be higher, provided there be a constant
demand: the case is the same with respect to potatoes.

:
Human food is the only produce which necessarily affords rent.
Materials for clothing and lodging in an uncultivated state of land are
produced in great plenty in an improved state there is generally such
a demand as to afford rent. The most barbarous 'people exchange their
superfluous materials of clothing with traders coming to their coast.
The materials of lodging, stone, and timber, are not so easily conveyed,
nd therefore often remain unsold; in which case, they yield no rent,
1
only repay the labour of those who use them. Demand creates
as in the woods of Norway, and the stone quarries on the coast
¿
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
835
1
of Scotland. In a rude state of society, clothing and lodging employ
little labour: but, in the advancement of cultivation and division of la-
bour, the labour of one family being able to provide food for two, or
half the society for the whole, the other half will be employed in pro-
viding supplies for other wants or fancies of men. The desire of food
is limited, that of other articles unbounded. Those therefore who can
command more food, or more of what purchases it than is sufficient for
themselves, lay out the surplus in procuring other articles, with which
those who want food will be ready to supply them. Thus all the other
products of land and labour arise from the improvements of the powers
of labour in producing food. Coal mines afford rent sometimes: in
some the produce is barely sufficient to pay the labour and profit of
stock; others cannot be wrought on account of their unfavourable situ-
ation for demand. Wood rises in price as a country is cultivated; some-
times to such a degree, that notwithstanding the slow returns it makes,
planting may become as profitable as cultivation. The value of me-
tallic mines, particularly of the more precious metals, does not much
depend upon situation, because they will bear the expence of carriage.
Hence the price of metals at one mine may regulate that of others at a
great distance. The mines of Peru yield no rent, except the tax of one-
fifth to the King of Spain.
In consequence of the general progress of civilization the demand
for silver (for use, ornament, and coin) will continually increase; if at
the same time the supply does not increase in the same degree, the value
of silver will gradually rise in proportion to that of corn: any given
quantity of silver would exchange for a greater and a greater quantity
of corn; or the money price of corn would decrease. Before the mid-
dle of the fourteenth century, the average price of the quarter of wheat
was about four ounces of silver; from that time it fell gradually to two
ounces of silver, at which it continued till about 1570. The price of
corn sunk in the same manner in France, and probably in other parts
of Europe; and, consequently, the value of silver increased. From
mistaking the rent-price, or what we paid to the landlord in kind, for
the market price-from inaccurate and defective registers, and from the
very low price of wheat at some periods in ancient times, compared with
other later periods-it has been inferred that silver decreased in value
at the tiine under consideration: but, if the great increase of demand
for silver be considered, and the best records of those times be consult-
ed, it will appear, that whatever increase there might be in the quan-
tity of silver it did not diminish its value. But if the supply by any
accident increases in a greater proportion than the demand, silver would
gradually become cheaper, or the average price of corn dearer. This
was the case from about the year 1570 to 1640; doubtless owing to the
discovery of the mines in America. During this period the price of
corn rose from two ounces to between six and eight ounces of silver
the quarter.
If the supply of silver increases nearly in the same pro-
portion as the demand, the average money-price of corn will continue
nearly the same, or silver, notwithstanding all improvements or ad-
vances in real wealth, will not sink in value. The value of silver, in
proportion to that of corn, seems never to have sunk lower than about
the year 1636: in the present century it appears to have risen some-
what, notwithstanding the operation of the bounty on exportation. The
prices at Windsor market to the year 1764 prove this: and the ad-
C
፡
♫
7
}

836
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
1
vanced price during the ten or twelve past years seems evidently to have
been the effect of extraordinary unfavourableness in the seasons, and of
the disorders in Poland. The increase in the price of labour is to be
imputed to an increase in the demand for labour, not to a decrease in
the value of silver. The gradual increase of the demand for silver in
Europe, America, and the East Indies, has kept up its value. The pro-
portion of the value of silver to gold is about 1 to 15. These valuable
metals increase in a rich country because they are dearer, or a better
real price is given for them. Though most commodities, except corn,
come to exchange for a greater quantity of silver, it does not follow that
silver is really cheaper, or will purchase less labour, but that these com-
modities are dearer, or will purchase more labour than before: their
real as well as nominal price is raised.
•
The different sorts of rude produce may be divided into three classes—.
those which cannot receive much increase from human industry, as
some birds, fishes, and other rare productions of nature, which being
perishable cannot be accumulated-those which may be multiplied in
proportion to the demand, as cattle and poultry-and those in which
the efficacy of industry is either limited or uncertain, as wool, hides,
fish, and precious metals. In the progress of improvement, the first
may rise to any extravagance of price; the second has a limitation in
the value of the ground employed to produce them; the third may be
exceedingly variable in a state of continued improvement.
From the high or low money-price of commodities in general, no-
thing can be inferred, but that the mines are fertile or barren. But
when cattle, poultry, and other produce are much cheaper than corn,
the low state of agriculture and civilization may be concluded with
great probability. The occasional rise of prices in some articles of pro-
vision will not prove a decrease in the value of silver, while the price of
corn is not raised; for such partial advances may proceed from inci-
dental causes, or be the effect of that increase of demand which increas-
ing wealth naturally occasions. From what has been already offered it
seems clear, that the value of money is not in reality diminished: we
may therefore consider the advanced price of some articles of provision
as a proof of the prosperity and wealth of our country.
Before division of labour is introduced into society, the accumulation
of stock is unnecessary. After this, the greater part of a man's wants
are supplied from the produce of the labour of others, purchased with
the prices of his own. But this purchase cannot be made till the pro-
duce of his own labour is completed and sold. A stock of goods of dif-
ferent kinds, therefore, must be stored up somewhere, sufficient to main-
tain him, and to supply him with the materials and tools of his work,
at least, till these events arc brought about. And labour can be more
and more subdivided only in proportion as stock is previously accumu-
lated, because such subdivision implies an increase of materials and ma-
chines. On the contrary, accumulation of stock naturally leads to im-
provement, by giving the owner an opportunity of increasing the ma-
terials, and facilitating the operations of labour.
When a man possesses no more stock than would maintain him for a
few days or weeks, he seldom thinks of deriving any revenue from it ;
but as it enlarges, he seeks a revenue from that part which is not ne-
cessary for immediate consumption. The part from which advantage
is sought is his capital. Capital may be employed in raising, manu-
I
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
837
!
facturing, purchasing, and selling goods; or in the improvement of
lands, purchasing tools, instruments, &c. The former is profitable on-
ly by circulation; the latter without it: the first may be called the cir-
culating capital; the last, the fixed capital. Different occupations re-
quire different proportions between the fixed and circulating capitals
employed in them. The general stock of any count y or society is the
same with that of all its members, and therefore is naturally divided
into the same three portions. The first, for immediate consumption,
includes the stock of food, furniture, clothes, houses, &c. The fixed ca-
pital consists of useful machines and instruments; profitable buildings,
as shops, granaries, &c. improvements of land; and acquired useful
abilities. The circulating capital is composed of money; stock of pro-
visions for sale; materials of clothes furniture, and building, in the
hands of the vender or manufacturer, or work finished but not disposed
of. The fixed capital is derived from and supported by the circulating
capital. The end of both is to maintain and augment the stock for im-
mediate consumption, which constitute the riches of a people. This
latter stock, as well as that which is fixed, is supplied from the circulat-
ing capital and the circulating capital is supplied chiefly from three
sources, the produce of lands, mines, and fisheries. These replace the
capitals employed in them, and in all other concerns. All stock is em-
ployed in one of the three ways mentioned, except where money is
hoarded, or effects concealed.
The whole price of the annual produce of any country must resolve
itself into wages, profit, or rent. The real wealth of a country is its
neat revenue, arising from the value of its produce, after deducting the
expences of maintaining the fixed and circulating capitals, or what,
without encroaching upon these capitals, they can devote to the con-
sumption-stock. The intention of the fixed capital is to increase the
productive powers of labour; the whole expence of maintaining it is to
be deducted from the revenue; but in the circulating capital, the main-
tenance of the three parts, provision, materials, and finished work,
does not diminish the neat revenue farther than is necessary for main-
taining the fixed capital, because all besides this goes into the revenue.
Money, then, is the only part of the circulating capital of a society, the
maintenance of which can occasion any material diminution in the neat
revenue. Money requires a considerable expence of materials and la-
bour, first to collect and afterwards to support it; and in itself makes
no part of the neat revenue of the society: it is the wheel of circula-
tion, but altogether distinct from the goods which it circulates. A
man's revenue consists not both in his money and the goods it will pur-
chase, but more properly in the quantity of goods which he is able to
purchase than in the money which he possesses. A guinea may be
considered as a bill for a certain quantity of necessaries or conveniences,
upon any of the tradesmen in the neighbourhood: the portion of wealth
arising from hence consists not in the bill but the valuable commodities
it will command. In like manner the revenue of a country is not both
its money and consumeable goods, but only one of these; and the latter
more properly than the former. Money, though a valuable part of the
capital, is no part of the stock of a society.
Every saving in the expence of collecting and supporting that part
of the capital which consists in money is an improvement of the re-
venue. Hence the utility of paper circulation, which supplies the place
森
​
1
838
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
of an expensive instrument of commerce with one less costly, and often
more convenient. The credit of a banker gives his notes all the value
of money in circulation. And twenty thousand pounds in cash being
generally sufficient to answer all the occasional demands which may
arise from a paper circulation of a hundred thousand, by this opera-
tion twenty thousand pounds perform all the functions of a hundred
thousand; and the whole circulation will be carried on with one fifth
of the specie necessary without it. When the quantity of currency
is by this means increased beyond what is wanted in domestic trans-
actions, a part of the money will be employed abroad in exchange
for foreign goods, either to supply the consumption of some other
country or their own. If for the former purpose, the profit will be
an addition to the neat revenue of the country: if for the latter, it
increases expence and consumption without increasing production,
where it is employed in purchasing goods likely to be consumed by idle
people, and is therefore hurtful; but where it is employed in increasing
the fund of materials or provision for labourers, it promotes industry
and wealth. This latter use of the overplus of currency is the most
prevalent. It is therefore of advantage to society to increase the quan-
tity of currency by paper, as it gives an opportunity of increasing the
quantity of materials, tools, and maintenance for labour, and conse-
quently of the produce of labour. This has been the effect in Scotland
of the establishment of many private banks: business at home has been
carried on by paper, and the coin has been chiefly employed in pur-
chasing goods abroad. The paper currency in any country must not
exceed the value of the gold and silver which would be necessary
without paper for transacting the home business; for then the part not
wanted would be brought for payment, which would occasion a run
upon the banks, and oblige them to keep a larger sum of money al-
ways in hand to answer this increase of demand. This was the case
some years ago in the Bank of England, and lately in the Scotch banks.
When a sufficient sum cannot be commanded, recourse must be had to
the ruinous expedient of paying backwards and forwards from one bank
to another by notes, paying discount and all expences from the stock
of the bank.
•
.
I
The judicious operations of banking, by substituting paper in the
room of a great part of that gold and silver which was dead stock, and
hereby enabling the country to convert this part into active and pro-
ductive stock, are exceedingly beneficial in extending commerce; but
paper currency must always be attended with more hazard than money,
from the unskilfulness or knavery of bankers, or from general causes
affecting public or private credit. Paper circulation for very small
sums should be prohibited, in order to confine it as much as possible
among traders, and prevent it from passing between traders and con-
sumers, which would banish gold and silver almost entirely from the
country. It is also necessary that circulating notes should be sub-
jected to the obligation of unconditional payment; since any conditional
clause must diminish their value.
Labour is productive or unproductive; productive, that which adds
to the value of the subject on which it is bestowed; unproductive, that
which has not this effect. The labours of manufacturers are of the
former kind; those of persons employed in government, in liberál
professions, in public diversions, menial servants, and many others, aré
I

POLITICAL ECONOMY.
839
1+
1
of the latter kind. Both these kinds of labourers, and those who do
not labour at all, are maintained by the annual produce of labour and
lan:1. The greater portion of this produce is expended on the un-
productive labourers, the less remains for the productive, and conse-
quently the less will be the nett annual produce. All produce is em-
ployed either in replacing a capital or constituting a revenue; the ca-
pital immediately maintains none but productive hands; the revenue
is the only source of support to unproductive labourers. Hence the
proportion of these different classes of labourers depends greatly upon
the proportion of the annual produce destined to replace a capital or
constitute a revenue: and this proportion is different in rich and in
poor countries; the share allotted to capital being much greater in the
former than the latter. The proportion between these different funds,
capital and revenue, determine the general character of the inhabitants
of a country as to industry or idleness. We are more industrious than
our forefathers, because our capital, destined for the encouragement of
industry, is greater. Every increase or diminution of capital, there-
fore, naturally tends to increase or diminish the real quantity of in-
dustry, the number of productive hands, and consequently the ex-
changeable value of produce. Capitals are increased by parsimony,
and diminished by prodigality and misconduct; for whatever is saved
from the revenue is added to the capital, either to be employed by the
person himself or others in labour. The prodigal, by encroaching
upon his capital, diminishes the funds of industry, the quantity of la-
bour, and the value of produce. Had the money wasted on unproduc-
tive hands been employed on labourers, there would have been an equal
value of consumeable goods reproduced. And because the sole use of
money is to circulate consumeable goods, money will increase or de-
crease in proportion to the quantity of these produced, that is to the
quantity of capital employed in labour. Though private and public ex-
travagance and misconduct tend to impoverish a nation, this tendency
is counteracted by the uniform endeavours of individuals to better
their condition. An increase of capital is necessary either to increase
the number of productive labourers, or improve the instruments of la-
bour: where this, improvement or increase has taken place, a country
has certainly enlarged its capital. England, notwithstanding all the
perversion of annual produce from maintaining productive to maintain-
ing unproductive hands, by private extravagance, public profusion, and
expensive wars, has been continually increasing its capital. Some
modes of private expence contribute more to the growth of public opu-
lence than others. A man of fortune who spends his revenue in sup-
porting a sumptuous table and retinue, lays up no stock by his mode of
expence; but he who lives more frugally in these respects, and is ex-
pensive chiefly in furniture, clothes, books, pictures, and works of taste
and elegance, gradually accumulates a stock, which may be considered
as an addition to the public wealth; and, withal, gives employment to
many labouring hands.


'
.
Stock lent at interest is always considered as a capital by the leader,
and is generally employed as such by the borrower. All loans at in-
terest, though made in money or paper, are in reality a transfer of a
certain portion of the annual produce of the land and labour of the
country, to be employed as the borrower pleases. The same pieces of
money may serve successively as the instruments of different loans or
•
840
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
*
{
of repayment; it is not therefore the money which is borrowed, so pro-
perly as the power of commanding produce to the amount of that mo-
ney. And the interest, in like manner, is the payment of a small
portion of the annual produce to the lender.' As general stock in-
creases, the monied interest, or that stock which is to be employed
upon interest, increases with it; and, from the natural operation of
competition, the interest diminishes. The increase of the price of la-
bour which will take place at this time, by diminishing the profits of
the trader, will lower the interest of money. It is from these causes,
and not from the increase of the quantity of money, that the general
diminution of interest has taken place. Legal restrictions upon in-
terest are necessary, to prevent the impositions of artful projectors;
but the legal interest should always be fixed somewhat above the ge-
neral market rate of interest.
Capital may be employed four different ways: in procuring rude
produce; in manufacturing and preparing goods; in transporting pro-
duce or goods from one place to another; and in retailing them to
consumers. Each of these methods of employing a capital is necessary
either to the existence or extension of the other three, or to the general
convenience of society. Equal capitals employed in each of these ways
will put into motion very different quantities of productive labour.
The capital and profits of the retailer replace the capital of the mer-
chant; those of the merchant replace the capital of the farmer and
manufacturer, and employ many labouring hands: those of the manu-
facturer, besides the replacing the capitals of those from whom he
purchases his materials, employ a still greater number of productive
labourers: but no equal capital causes so much productive labour as
that of the farmer. The capital employed in agriculture and retail
trade must always reside within the society: that of the merchant
seems to have no necessary residence anywhere: that of the manu-
facturer must be where the manufacture is carried on; but it is not
necessary that this should be where the materials grow, or where the
goods are consumed. Where a country has not capital sufficient for
the three purposes of agriculture, manufacture, and merchandize, it is
expedient, not prematurely to attempt all the three, but to apply to
that which will yield the greatest quantity of productive labour, and
consequently add the greatest value to the annual produce. Thus, the
rapid progress of the American colonies in opulence has been princi-
pally owing to their attention to agriculture. The operations of capital
differ farther, according to the different sorts of wholesale trade in
which it is employed. Wholesale trade is of three kinds; the home
trade; the foreign trade of consumption; the carrying trade. The ca-
pital employed in the home trade, purchasing in one part of the coun-
try in order to sell in another the produce of the industry of that
country, generally replaces by every such operation two distinct capitals
that had been employed in the agriculture or manufactures of that
country, by bringing back commodities in return for those which are
sold. The capital employed in purchasing foreign goods for home con-
sumption, either directly or indirectly, with the produce of labour at
home, in like manner replaces two capitals: but only one of them is
at home; and the returns are not so quick as those of the home trade;
this kind of trade, therefore, gives less encouragement to industry than
the former. The capital employed in carrying the goods of one foreign

-
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
841
country to another, has no concern in supporting the productive labour
of the country; and does not always necessarily increase the numbers
of sailors or shipping, as the same capital might have employed an
equal or greater number in the home or foreign trade of consumption.
Each of these kinds of trade are advantageous and necessary, in their
connection with each other; even the carrying trade in a wealthy na-
tion may be a proper employment of that capital which is not required
to support the productive labour of the country; but as sources of pro-
ductive labour and wealth, the home and foreign trade of consumption
are to be preferred.
Commerce is chiefly carried on between the inhabitants of the town
and those of the country; and consists in a mutually beneficial ex-
change of natural produce and manufactures. The cultivation and im-
provement of the country, which affords subsistence, must be prior to
the increase of the town, which furnishes only the means of conveni-
ence and luxury. The subsistence of the town depends upon the sur-
plus of the country, and therefore the town can only increase with the
increase of this surplus. The town is a continual fair or market, to
which the inhabitants of the country resort, in order to exchange their
rude for manufactured produce. In the natural course of things, there-
fore, the progressive wealth of towns must be consequential, and in
proportion to the improvement of the country: the greater part of the
capital of every growing society will naturally be employed, first in
agriculture, then in manufactures, and afterwards in foreign commerce.
But this natural order hath often been entirely inverted.
During the confusions which took place after the destruction of the
Roman empire, the chiefs and principal leaders possessed themselves
of the greater part of the lands. The lands thus engrossed were con-
tinued in a few hands by the law of primogeniture and the introduc-
tion of entails. These were adopted as the most effectual means of se-
curing independence and power. It seldom happens that a great pro-
prietor is a great improver: the owners of territory were too busy in se-
curing and defending, to think of cultivating them beyond what had
been usual. The tenants of lands, being such at will, were still less at-
tentive to improvement. They were the property and slaves of their
lords, and therefore could have no motive to attempt any kind of ad-
vantageous cultivation. Nor was any material improvements to be ex-
pected from that species of farmers, known in France by the name of
netayers, and in Scotland by that of steel-bow tenants, who equally
divide the profits with the landlord; for a tax amounting to one-half
of the profits would be an insuperable discouragement. But farmers
who pay a certain rent, under lease for a term of years, may find it their
interest to lay out part of their capital for the improvement of their
farms. The laws and customs so favourable to the yeomanry in Eng-
land, have perhaps contributed more to its present flourishing state,
than all the regulations of commerce. The services due to the landlord
and to the public, which were so oppressive formerly, have been almost
entirely removed. While the farmer lay under the difficulties above-
mentioned, little improvement was to be expected. And the ancient
policy of Europe added still farther discouragements to the cultivation
of land, by general prohibitions of exportation, by the absurd laws.
against engrossers, regraters, and forestallers, and by the privileges of
fairs and markets.
5 P
+
15
842
POLITICAL ECONOMY.{
The inhabitants of towns, long after the fall of the Roman empire,
seem to have been chiefly tradesmen and mechanics; people of servile,
or nearly servile condition, who travelled with their goods from place
to place, and were subject to different kinds of taxes. But they appear
to have risen to independence much earlier than the occupiers of lands.
Having been accustomed to pay a poll tax to their lords or sovereign,
for exemption from other tax, and from hence called free traders, these
poll-taxes came in time to be farmed, and even by the burghers them-
selves, that is, became a fixed rent from a town. At length both the
payment and exemption were made perpetual; and, consequently,
ceased to belong to individuals, except as burghers of a particular burgh;
from whence they were called free burghers. Other important privi-
leges soon followed these, particularly those of incorporation. The
true ground of these privileges probably was, that princes found it their
interest to increase the power of the people against their common ene-
mies the barons, and to encourage them in their combinations against
their oppressors. Hence the privileges granted to English burghs, the
institution of magistrates and councils of cities in France, the free towns
in Germany, and the Hanseatic league. The sovereign having eman-
cipated the people from the power of the nobles, sometimes lost his
own dominion over them, and they formed themselves into independent
republics; as in Italy and Switzerland. In other instances, though
they continued their allegiance, they became so far free as not to be
liable to be taxed without their own consent; and sent deputies to the
general assembly of the states. These circumstances gave the inhabi-
tants of cities and towns great advantage over those of the country, and
encouraged them to exert their industry for improving their condition.
Those towns which were situated on the sea-coast, or the borders of
navigable rivers, enjoying an opportunity of bringing in their supplies
from distant countries, and distributing their manufactures to a great
extent, would first become opulent. Manufactures for distant sale seem
to have been introduced two different ways; first, by the efforts of par-
ticular merchants and undertakers to establish them in imitation of
some foreign manufactures of the same kind; these are generally em-
ployed upon foreign materials: secondly, by the gradual improvement
of skill and taste, from the coarser manufactures common to all countries.
These latter improvements often take place in inland countries, where
there is a surplus of provision which cannot easily be carried to any
great distance, and which therefore encourages labourers to resort thi-
ther. Such manufactures are the offspring of agriculture, as is the case
with Birmingham, Manchester, Leeds, &c.
L
L
→
1
2
The increase and riches of commercial and manufacturing towns con-
tributed to the improvement of the country three ways; by affording a
great and ready market for the rude produce of the country; by pro-
viding purchasers of lands among the wealthy citizens; and by esta-
blishing order and good government, liberty and security. The state
of dependence, in which tenants and retainers were before the introduc-
tion of commerce, was such as gave their lords little less than an abso-
lute power. Territorial jurisdictions did not take their origin from the
feudal law, but were known in their full extent long before this law
prevailed: they necessarily flowed from the state of property and man-
ners at that time. The introduction of the feudal law may be regard-
ed as an attempt to moderate the authority of the great allodial lords,
1
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
843
by establishing a regular subordination, accompanied with a long train
of services and duties, from the king down to the smallest proprietor.
But it was the silent and insensible operations of foreign commerce
which effectually reduced the oppressive power of the great proprietors
of lands, by furnishing them with articles which they might consume
by themselves, without sharing them with their tenants or retainers,
and which therefore they would be tempted to purchase, even at the
expence of that territory from which they derived their power. While
they spent their rents in maintaining their tenants and retainers, they
had this whole train in a state of dependence upon them: but by spend-
ing them upon manufacturers and artists they created no such depen-
dence; for these having many employers could generally be maintain-
ed without the help of any single individual. Their expences being
now turned into a new channel, a great part of their retainers were
dismissed; the number of their tenants reduced, the rents of farms rais-
ed, and, the better to enable the farmer to bear such advances, long
leases granted. This last circumstance greatly contributed to the in-
dependence of the farmer. In this manner great proprietors of land lost
their power, and became as insignificant as any substantial burgher or
tradesman. Commerce, by increasing the means of luxurious expence,
has had a tendency to lessen the number of old family estates, and has
occasioned, in the manner above described, the improvement of the
country. The natural effect of commerce in multiplying small propri-
etors of land has been retarded by the laws of primogeniture and en-
tail. In England, the progress of cultivation has followed slowly after
the progress of commerce and manufactures, notwithstanding the en-
couragement which has been given to agriculture. Cultivation is in a
lower state in France than England, though it had foreign commerce
in a considerable degree near a century sooner than England. Spain
and Portugal are in a still lower state of cultivation. Italy is the only
great country in Europe, which seems to be universally cultivated and
improved by means of commerce and manufactures. Its advantageous
situation, and the great number of its independent states, have produc-
ed these effects. The capital acquired by commerce is a precarious
possession, and can scarcely be said to belong to a country, till it has
been secured and realized in the cultivation of lands. Great mercan-
tile wealth has often been transferred from one country to another. The
ordinary revolutions of war and government easily dry up the sources
of that wealth which arises from commerce only. That which arises
from the more solid improvements of agriculture is much more durable,
and can only be destroyed by such violent convulsions as happened at
the fall of the Roman empire.
**
*
The objects of political economy are, to provide the people with
the means of plentiful subsistence, and to supply the state with a re-
venue sufficient for the public services. For the purpose of enriching
the people, two different systems have been, adopted, the one the
system of commerce, the other that of agriculture. Let us examine
each of these distinctly.
•
1
د شد
It has long been a popular error, that wealth consists in money,
or gold and silver. This idea formerly gave rise to frequent prohi-
bitions of the exportations of money or bullion. These were oppos-
ed by merchants as ineffectual, unnecessary, and injurious to the
balance of trade. But still the opinion that the national wealth con-
་
814
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
{
sisted in money, was retained; the attention of government was direct-
ed to the preservation of a favourable balance of foreign trade, as the
true means of increasing the national treasure: and home trade was not
considered as a source of wealth, except as it was subsidiary to foreign
trade. But there is in reality no necessity that, in either of these ways,
the attention of government should be employed on the increase of
money. The quantity of money, like that of every other commodity,
will always be regulated by the effectual demand. Where a greater
quantity is imported than exceeds this demand, no vigilance of govern-
ment can prevent its exportation; when the demand is greater than the
present supply, no prohibitions will prevent its importation. Money
is only scarce where individuals have not wherewithal to purchase it
nor credit to borrow it, which will generally happen where great pro-
fits occasion over-trading. But a country which abounds with the pro-
duce of land or labour, beyond what is necessary to supply the home
consumption, has always the power of commanding an increase of its
treasure, by sending its surplus to foreign markets. The greater part
of this surplus, however, is always destined to the purchase of foreign
goods and while a country is able to procure these, its trade may be
beneficial without any increase of money: its annual produce of land
and labour and its real gains being nearly the same.
Since money is
merely a convenient instrument of circulation, no benefit can be deriv-
ed from increasing it farther than it is wanted for this purpose. It is
not always necessary to accumulate gold and silver, in order to enable
a country to carry on foreign wars. These may be supported either by
sending abroad some of its gold and silver, or some of the produce or
its manufactures, or some of its annual rude produce. The late wars in
Europe have had little dependence on the exportation of money or bul-
lion, but have been chiefly carried on by the exportation of manufac-
tures: the government contracting with merchants to make the neces-
sary remittances, who would do it either directly or indirectly by send-
ing over goods, which would bring him a profit. A country which
produces a great surplus of the finer manufactures may carry on an
expensive foreign war without exporting any considerable quantity of
gold or silver, and may enrich its merchants while it is exhausting its
own strength. Rude produce alone would not be adequate to the
pur-
pose; the expence of exportation would be too great. The chief be-
nefit of foreign commerce is, not the importation of gold and silver, but
the exchanging of superfluous produce of land and labour, for those
articles of foreign produce which are wanted at home. It is on this ac-
count that the American connexions have proved so beneficial to Europe;
and those of the East would have been no less so, had not the natural
operations of commerce been obstructed by exclusive companies. The
continual exportation of silver, so much complained of, produces no
material effect. The East India trade, by opening a market to the com-
modities of Europe, or, which comes nearly to the same thing, to the
gold and silver which is purchased with these commodities, tends to
increase the annual production of European commodities, and conse-
quently the real wealth and revenue of Europe. The false principles,
that wealth consists in gold and silver, and that these could only be
commanded by the balance of trade, have rendered it a great object in
political economy to lay restraints upon importation, and to give en-
couragement to exportation.

POLITICAL ECONOMY.
845
The restraints upon importation have been upon such foreign goods
as could be produced at home-and upon goods of almost all kinds
from those countries with which the balance of trade was supposed to
be disadvantageous.
By the first of these restraints, the monopoly of the home market is
more or less secured to domestic industry. But whether it tends to in-
crease the general industry, or to give it the best direction, may be
questioned. It cannot increase the industry of the society beyond what
its capital can employ; it can only give it an artificial direction. Now,
without this, every individual will endeavour to employ his capital as
near home as he can, and consequently as much as he can in support of
domestic industry, provided he can nearly obtain the ordinary profits of
stock;
and will therefore employ it most advantageously to his country,
by directing it into that channel which will give revenue and employ-
ment to the greatest number of people of his own country. And every
individual who employs his capital in the support of domestic industry,
naturally endeavours to direct it in the most profitable manner. Every
individual, therefore, necessarily labours to render the annual revenue
of the society as great as he can, without immediately intending it.
What species of domestic industry will be most profitable, each indivi-
dual is the best judge for himself. But the statesman, by giving the
monopoly of domestic industry in any particular art or manufacture, in
some measure takes upon him to direct in what manner private people
ought to employ their capitals: and the regulation will generally be
either useless or hurtful. It is for the benefit of the public, as well as
individuals, to purchase from others such articles as can be bought
cheaper than they can be made at home: for that labour which would
be employed in making them may be directed into a channel which
will be more advantageous, that is, make a more valuable addition to
the annual produce. Whatever aid such regulations may give to parti-
cular manufactures, they therefore naturally tend to diminish the ge-
neral revenue. The chief benefit of the monopoly of the home market
is enjoyed by merchants and manufacturers: the prohibition of the im-
portation of foreign cattle and salt provisions, and high duties upon
foreign corn, are not so beneficial to the graziers and farmers of Great
Britain, as other regulations of the same kind are to its merchants and
manufacturers, on account of the great expence of carrying the more
bulky commodities. The free importation of foreign corn could very
little affect the interest of the farmers of Great Britain. The average
quantity imported annually amounts only to 23,728 quarters, which is
not a five hundredth part of the annual consumption. There are two
cases in which it may be advantageous to lay some burdens upon
foreign, for the encouragement of domestic industry. The first is
when some particular sort of industry is necessary for the defence of the
country: hence the propriety of the navigation act, which gives the
sailors and shipping of Great Britain a monopoly. The second case is,
when some tax is imposed at home upon the produce of domestic in-
dustry: here an equal tax upon the like foreign articles is necessary to
leave the competition between foreign and domestic industry upon the
same footing as before. When a foreign country restrains by high du-
ties or prohibitions the importation of any of our produce or manufac
tures, it becomes a matter of deliberation whether the free importation
of their goods is to be continued: there seems to be good policy in this
.
\
SK


!
846
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
*kind of retaliation, only when there is a probability that it will pro-
cure the repeal of the high duties or prohibitions complained of: other-
wise we only punish ourselves by making certain goods dearer than be-
fore. When particular manufactures, by means of high duties or pro-
hibitions on all foreign goods that come in competition with them, are
greatly extended, and employ a multitude of hands, it may be question-
ed how far, or in what manner, free importation should be restored.
This might, however, be done gradually with less inconvenience than
is commonly supposed: manufactures exported without a bounty, be-
ing sold as cheap abroad, and therefore cheaper at home than foreign
goods of the same kind, would be very little affected by free importa-
tion: and those who might be thrown out of employment in any par-
ticular manufacture would easily direct their industry into some other
channel, at least as easily as disbanded soldiers turn themselves to dif-
ferent kinds of labour. But the interests of many individuals so strongly
oppose free importation, that it would be extremely hazardous to at-
tempt to introduce it, except by very slow degrees, and after a very
long warning.
7
+
The restraints which are laid upon the importation of goods of almost
all kinds, from countries with which the balance of trade is supposed to
be unfavourable, are unreasonable even upon the principles of the com-
mercial system. For, though the balance might, by a free trade, be
rendered more unfavourable with respect to one country, if the goods
purchased from that country were cheaper than could be procured from
other countries, the general balance of the whole trade would become
more favourable by such free importation. Besides, a great part of
them might be re-exported, and sold with profit. To which must be
added, that there is no certain criterion by which the balance of trade
between any two countries can be determined. In custom-house books,
entries are defective, and valuation inaccurate. The course of exchange
is a rule of judging almost as uncertain. Exchange is said to be at par
between two countries, when for a sum of money containing a certain
number of ounces of pure silver in the coin of one country, a bill is
given to receive a sum containing an equal number of ounces of pure
silver in the coin of the other: when you pay more you give a premium,
when less you get a premium, and the exchange is in favour or against
your country. The payment of a premium is said to be a sign that
the balance is against a country, because it supposed that money or bul-
lion is to be sent over to pay the balance, for the hazard and expence
of sending which the premium is charged. But it must be considered,
that we cannot always judge of the value of the current money by the
standard of their respective mints; that the expence of coinage being
defrayed by government in some countries, and by private persons in
others, may make a difference in the value; and that in some places
foreign bills of exchange are paid in the current coin, in others in bank-
money which is always of more value than the currency; from all which
circumstances, uncertainty must arise concerning the real state of ex-
change.
1
}
#
{.
In small states, where the currency is usually made up of the coins
of several countries, in order to remedy the inconvenience which would
arise from the uncertainty of the current coin, it has been agreed to pay
bills of exchange from the bank in good money of the state. The banks
of Venice, Genoa, Amsterdam, &c. seem to have been established for
#
POLITICAL ECONÓMY.
847
}
this purpose. The money of the bank being better than the currency,
bears an agio, or a difference in value in favour of the bank. This mo-
ney also is more secure from accidents, and may be paid by a simple
transfer without trouble or risk. The bank of Amsterdam receives gold
and silver bullion at certain prices. It sells at all times bank money
for currency at five per cent. agio and buys at four. For every guilder
circulated as bank money, the city is guarantee that a correspondent
guilder shall at all times be found in the treasure of the bank.
:
From the nature of these banks, and other circumstances, the ex-
change between countries that pay in bank money, and those which pay
in currency, must generally appear to be in favour of the former. But
if the ordinary course of exchange gave an accurate idea of the state of
debt and credit between two countries, this is usually so much affected
by the connections of each with other countries, that nothing certain can
be deduced from hence.
Prohibitions of importation then appear to be unreasonable on the
principle of the importance of preserving a balance of trade. But no-
thing can be more absurd than this whole doctrine. A trade carried on
naturally and regularly between two countries is always advantageous,
though not equally so, to both; for it increases the exchangeable value
of the annual produce of land and labour, that is, the revenue of both.
If the balance be even, and the trade consist altogether in the exchange
of native commodities, both will be gainers, and nearly equally, for
each country affording a market for the overplus of the other, each will
replace the capital which had been employed in raising this surplus,
and had given revenue and maintenance to a certain number of its in-
habitants. If the balance be even, and the trade on one side with
foreign goods, and the other with native commodities, the latter would
gain more than the former, because the revenue arising from the trade
will be divided between two countries in one case, and remain in one
country in the other. But whether the balance of trade be favourable
to one country, or to another, the trade itself is beneficial to both. It
is the interest of merchants and manufactures to secure the monopoly
of the home market: but it is undoubtedly the interest of the country
to purchase goods of those who sell them cheapest, whether natives or
foreigners. A rich-nation may be a more formidable enemy, but will
certainly be a better customer to a commercial nation, than a poor one.
Nothing, therefore, can be more absurd than to aim at impoverishing
our neighbours in order to enrich ourselves. On the whole, the pro-
sperity or decay of a nation does not depend upon the balance of trade,
which may be against it while it is increasing in real wealth, but upon
the balance of produce and consumption. The society in which the
exchangeable value of its annual produce exceeds that of its annual
consumption is increasing its revenue, and is therefore in a prosperous
state, whatever may happen with respect to its coin.
The means employed for encouraging exportation have been draw-
backs, bounties, treaties of commerce, and colonization.
Drawbacks, by which the merchant is allowed to draw back, upon
exportation, either the whole or a part of the duties imposed upon do-
mestic industry, serving not to overturn the balance which naturally
takes place among the several employments of society, but to hinder it
from being overturned by the duty, are justifiable and useful. The
*
3
848
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
same may be said of the drawbacks upon the re-exportation of foreign
goods imported.
Bounties are only reasonable in those branches of trade which can-
not be carrried on without them. Their effect is, to force the trade of
the country into a channel much less advantageous than that in which
it would run of its own accord. The bounty upon the exportation
of corn renders it somewhat dearer in the home market than it would
otherwise be, and somewhat cheaper in the foreign: the effect of which
is, that, as the average money price of corn regulates more or less
that of all other commodities, it lowers the value of silver at home,
and raises it a little abroad: hence it renders our manufactures some-
what dearer, and discourages them, without rendering any real ser-
vice to the farmer, who has only a nominal benefit. Bounties on such
articles of production and importation as are necessary for defence, may
be expedient. All the restrictions of law to prevent or limit engross-
ing and forestalling, to reduce the price of corn by fixing its utmost
extent, to annihilate or confine the trade of the corn-merchant or
dealer, to prohibit or discourage either the importation or exportation
of corn, or to prevent the trade of the merchant carrier of corn from
one country to another, proceed upon false principles, and are injuri-
ous to the interests of the country.
•
Treaties of commerce in favour of any particular country, giving it
commercial privileges superior to other countries, though beneficial to
the merchants and manufactures of the privileged country, are neces-
sarily disadvantageous to the country which grants the favour, because
a monopoly is established against themselves, which must generally
raise the price of goods higher than where a free competition is per-
mitted. Such a monopoly has sometimes been granted from an expec-
tation that it would produce a balance of trade in favour of the country
granting it, by encouraging the sale of its manufactures in the country
thus distinguished. This is the foundation of the treaty of 1703 be-
tween England and Portugal; which binds Portugal to receive English
woollens, but not on better terms than those of other nations, and
obliges Great Britain to admit the wines of Portugal at two-thirds the
duty of those of France, and is therefore disadvantageous to Great
Britain, The importation of gold or silver from Portugal is of much
less consequence than is commonly supposed; the greater part of it be-
ing re-exported in exchange for consumable goods, which might be
purchased with greater advantage, by a direct trade, with the produce
of English industry.
Colonies were established among the ancients from motives different
from those which have directed their establishment in modern times.
The colonies from the states of Greece were emigrations proceeding
from the excess of population. Those of the Romans were grants to
the people to silence their complaints of the unequal distribution of
lands at home. The expectation of finding gold and silver mines,
joined with that of discovering a north-west passage to the East Indies,
occasioned the conquest and settlement of America.
The colony of a civilized nation, established in a waste country, or
one in which the natives easily give way to the new settlers, advances
rapidly to wealth and greatness. Their knowledge of agriculture, their
habits of subordination, the great encouragement to industry which the
easy purchase of land affords, and the extraordinary profits which will
* 4
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
849
薯
​arise from the produce, notwithstanding the high price of labour, are
circumstances which concur to hasten the progress of improvement and
wealth. The American settlements, besides these advantages, have
had that of an easy dependence on the mother country. The political
institutions of the Canadian colonies have been peculiarly favourable to
the improvement and cultivation of land. Among them the engrossing
of uncultivated land has been restrained; the right of primogeniture is
not universal; the alienation of lands is easy; the taxes are moderate ;
and the market allowed for the sale of their overplus produce is more
extensive than that of any other colonies. All the different civil esta-
blishments in North America, exclusive of Maryland and North-Caro-
lina, of which no exact account has been given before the disturbances
in 1776, did not cost the inhabitants above £64,700 a year. It is
only with regard to certain commodities that the Canadian colonies are
confined to the market of their mother country. These are called enu-
merated commodities. Among the non-enumerated are included the
important articles of grain, lumber, salt provisions, fish, sugar and rum.
The enumerated goods are chiefly, molasses, coffee, cocoa-nuts, tobacco,
pimento, ginger, whale fins, raw silk, cotton wool, beaver, and other
peltry of America, indigo, fustic, and other dying woods, naval stores,
pig and bar iron, copper ore, pot and pearl ashes. In every thing, ex-
cept their foreign trade, the liberty of the Canadian colonists to manage
their own affairs their own way is complete. From the nature of their
assemblies and government, there is more equality among them than
among the inhabitants of the mother country. It must, however, be
acknowledged, concerning the British, as well as other colonies, that
the mother country has had little merit either in projecting or effectuat-
ing their establishment, and that the monopoly in trade has tended to
retard the progress of the colonies, and has been only somewhat less
illiberal and oppressive than that of other European nations over their
colonies.
The general advantages which Europe has derived from the discovery
and colonization of America, consist in the increase of its enjoyments,
and the augmentation of its industry. Both these effects are much re-
stricted by the exclusive trade of the mother countries. Each coloniz-
ing country derives peculiar advantages from its colonies by means of
its exclusive trade, increasing both its enjoyments and industry: but
these advantages are only relative with respect to other nations; and to
obtain them, both absolute and relative disadvantages are incurred in
almost every other branch of trade. The English monopoly hath been
continually drawing capital from all other trades to be employed in that
of the colonies, and consequently hath injured other branches of trade
to encourage this: it hath also kept up the rate of profit in all the dif-
ferent branches of trade, higher than it would naturally have been. By
lessening the competition, it increased the profits in the colony trade;
and by lessening the competition in other branches, it raised the pro-
fits of these likewise. Now an advance of profit requires an advance
of price, which is unfavourable to trade, and enables other countries, to
undersell that which labours under this disadvantage, The monopoly
of the colony trade has also been injurious, by forcing the foreign trade
from neighbouring countries, from which returns being frequent, a
greater quantity of labour may be employed, to countries more remote,
which not admitting of frequent returns, must in this view be less add-
Bordin a bea
steady Yan
:
5 Q
850
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
t
:
骨
​:
I
vantageous; and by forcing some part of the capital of Great Britain
from a direct foreign trade of consumption to a round-about one: this
must be the case with respect to such enumerated goods as are import❤
ed in greater quantities than are necessary for home consumption. An-
other inconvenience arising from the monopoly is, that it has turned
the stream of British industry too much into one channel, and destroy-
ed the natural balance which would otherwise have taken place among
its different branches. The natural effects of the colony trade are,
however, so beneficial, that they have greatly overbalanced all the bad
effects of the monopoly.-By raising the rate of mercantile profit, the
monopoly discourages the improvement of land; and encourages super-
fluous expence among the merchants.
Notwithstanding the great and obvious disadvantages of this mo-
nopoly, the maintenance of it has been the principal end of the do-
minion which Great Britain assumes over her colonies. The whole ex-
pence of defending and preserving the colonies is therefore in reality.
a bounty to secure a pernicious monopoly. A peaceable separation
would establish a free commercial intercourse, more beneficial than the
monopoly. In order to render the provinces, in a state of dependence,
advantageous to the empire, it ought to support its own peace esta-
blishment, and contribute its proportion to the general expences of go-
vernment. It is not probable that this should be obtained from the
colony assemblies. It has therefore been proposed, that the colonies
should be taxed by requisition; the sum to be specified by the British
parliament, and the provincial assemblies to be at liberty to raise it
in their own way. If this contribution were to be regulated by the
land-tax, parliament could not tax the colonies without taxing its own
constituents, and they might be considered as virtually represented.
The members of the congress and their dependents are elevated to
such a degree of consequence, that no method seems more likely to
engage them to a voluntary submission, than giving the leading men
of each colony an opportunity of continuing and increasing their con-
sequence, by allowing each colony which should detach itself from the
general confederacy, a number of representatives in the British parlia-
ment proportioned to its contribution to the public revenue.
The establishment of exclusive companies is another species of per-
nicious monopoly. In poor countries this monopoly attracts towards
the trade thus limited more stock than would otherwise go to it: in
rich countries it prevents the employment of so much stock in it as
might otherwise be expected: in both it is injurious. Nor are such
companies necessary: for when a nation is sufficiently rich, some mer-
chants would naturally turn their capital towards the different branches
of the trade thus monopolized, as soon as it should be laid open.
Having thus considered at large the system of commerce, we are
now briefly to take notice of that of agriculture.
Mr. Colbert, the famous minister of Louis XIV. adopted the mer-
cantile system so far as to lay great discouragements upon agriculture.
In opposition to his system, the French philosophers proposed one
which represented agriculture as the only real source of wealth. The
cultivators of ground, because their labours afford a neat produce to
the landlord after paying completely all the necessary expences of cul-
tivation, are called the productive class. Artificers, manufacturers, and
merchants, replacing only the stock which employs them, together with
1

POLITICAL ECONOMY.
1
851
[
i
its ordinary profits, are said to be unproductive. These are maintain-
ed wholly at the expence of the proprietors and cultivators of lands:
but it is their interest to encourage them, because it enables them to
purchase the produce of labour much more advantageously than they
could otherwise have done, and thus raises the value of the surplus
produce of the land. The capital error of this system, of which Mr.
Quesnai was the author, consisted in representing the class of manu-
facturers and merchants as unproductive; for this class reproduces an-
nually the value of its own annual consumption, and its labour fixes
and realises itself in some vendible commodity: to which may be
added, that manufactures and merchandize increase the stock of provi-
sion by enabling one country to procure a greater quantity from an-
other. The political economy of many nations has been more favour-
able to agriculture than commerce. This is the case in China, as it was
formerly in Egypt and in Indostan. The sovereigns of these countries
have derived their principal revenue from some sort of land tax.
Among the ancient Greeks and Romans, trade and commerce were dis-
couraged. All discouragements of trade are unfriendly to agriculture;
because the dearer manufactured produce is, that is, the less quantity
of it can be purchased by a certain quantity of the produce of land,
the cheaper or less valuable is this latter produce.-On the whole it
appears, that all the extraordinary encouragements, or restraints, pro-
posed either in the commercial or agricultural system, are detrimental,
and retard the progress of society towards wealth and greatness; and
that the obvious and simple system of natural liberty, in which every
man is left to employ his capital or industry as he pleases, is most
agreeable to the true principles of political economy.
The expences of government are of four kinds, those of defence—
of justice of public works and institutions-and for supporting the
dignity of the sovereign.

The expences of defence are very different in different states of so-
ciety. Among nations of hunters and of shepherds every man is a war-
rior. An army of hunters can seldom exceed two or three hundred
men: an army of shepherds may sometimes amount to two or three
hundred thousand: a nation of the latter therefore is more formidable
than one of the former. In a nation of husbandmen, where there is few
manufactures and little commerce, every man easily becomes a warrior,
and the expence of collecting an army is small. In this state of society,
the men who were of age to bear arms have often served without pay.
But in a more advanced state, this became impossible. Artificers and
manufacturers, having no revenue but in their daily labour, must be
maintained by the public while they bear arms in its defence. This is
become still more necessary, since the art of war has been refined into
an intricate science, and the event has remained undecided for several
campaigns. The expences of war have been greatly increased from the
time that the military character became distinct and separate, and the
preparation and maintenance of armies devolved upon government.
As society refines, and manufactures increase, voluntary military exer-
cises are neglected, and it becomes the business of the government to
provide for the security of the people. This may be done, either by
enforcing the practice of military exercises on the whole or part of the
people capable of bearing arms, or by maintaining and employing a
certain number of citizens in the constant practice of military exercises •
852
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
}
the former creates a militia, the latter a standing army. A militia must
always be much inferior, both in dexterity and in ready obedience, to
an army composed of men who are soldiers by profession. Ancient
history confirms this remark. It is only by a standing army that the
civilization of any country can be perpetuated. A standing army can
only be dangerous to liberty when the interest of the general and of-
ficers is not necessarily connected with the support of the constitution
of the state. Where the military force and civil authority are united,
the sovereign enjoys such security as renders it safe for him to tolerate
that degree of liberty which approaches to licentiousness. The ex-
pences of war have been much increased by the introduction of fire-arms.

The establishment of an exact administration of justice, necessary to
defend every member of the society from injustice or oppression, is at-
tended with different degrees of expence in different periods of society
Where property is great and unequally distributed, frequent occasions
of injury occur, and magistracy becomes necessary. Subordination na-
turally increases with the growth of valuable property. Fortune and
birth are the two circumstances which principally set one man above
another: these create dependence and respect, and thus naturally in-
troduce judicial authority. The exercise of this authority for a long
time, far from being a cause of expence, was a source of revenue. This
was found to be productive of gross abuses, and when taxes came to
be paid for the support of government, it seems to have been stipulated
that no present should be accepted for the administration of justice.
It is not to be expected, however, that justice should be administered
gratis. To prevent the corruption of justice, the higher officers may be
paid by government; but lawyers and attornies must be paid by the
parties, or they would perform their duty still worse than at present.
The whole expence of justice might easily be defrayed by the fees of
court: and indeed these fees seem originally to have been the principal
support of the courts of justice in England.

1
Another object of national expence is the erecting and maintaining
public useful institutions and works, the profit of which could not repay
the expence to private individuals. These are chiefly such as are de-
signed for facilitating commerce, for the education of youth, and for
the instruction of the people.
Public works for facilitating commerce, such as highways, bridges,
harbours, canals, &c. will generally afford a particular revenue for
defraying their own expence, in the hands of private persons or
trustees. To remedy the evils complained of, arising from the mis-
management of public tolls or turnpikes, it has been proposed that the
affair should be taken into the hands of government, and the soldiers
be employed in mending the highways But in this case, these tolls,
being considered as one of the resources of the state, would probably
be greatly augmented; a very unequal burden would fall upon the
lower classes of the people; and the remedy, on the supposition of ne-
glect, would be more difficult.
Institutions for the education of youth may likewise furnish a revenue
sufficient for defraying their own expence, arising from the fees of the
scholars. The endowments of schools or colleges, by diminishing the
necessity of application and exertion in the teachers, have in some moa-
sure frustrated the end of their institution. In the university of Ox-
ford, the greater part of the public professors have, for these many years,
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
853
护
​given up altogether even the pretence of teaching. Whatever forces a
certain number of students to any college or university, independent of
the merit of the teachers, tends to diminish the necessity of that merit.
Of this kind are exclusive privileges of graduates, and charitable found-
ations. If the discipline of the college be contrived for the interest or
ease of the masters rather than the benefit of the students, as is frequently
the case in endowed institutions, the effect must be unfavourable to the
interests of learning. The present universities of Europe were origin-
ally, for the most part, ecclesiastical corporations instituted for the edu-
cation of churchmen. What was taught in them was, accordingly,
theology, or some things preparatory to theology. A corrupt Latin,
which was the common language of the western parts of Europe when
Christianity was established by law, long continued to be used in the
church; and therefore the study of it was made an essential part of
university education. Greek was introduced in consequence of the dis-
putes which arose between the Catholic and reformed churches. The
ancient Greek philosophy, which had been judiciously divided into
physics, or natural philosophy, ethics or moral philosophy, and logic, in
order to accommodate it to theological students, was changed for a
system consisting of these five parts, logic, ontology, metaphysics,
moral philosophy, physics. In this course, so large a quantity of
subtlety and sophistry, of casuistry and ascetic morality, were introduc-
ed, as rendered it very improper for the education of gentlemen or men
of the world. This course, or a few unconnected shreds and parcels of
this course, still continue to be taught in most of the universities of
Europe, And the richest and best endowed universities have generally
been the slowest in adopting improvements, and the most averse to
alterations. Among the Greeks and Romans the state seems to have
been at no pains in the business of education, except so far as related
to military exercises; yet masters were found for instructing the better
sort of people in every art or science which it was necessary or con-
venient for them to study. Were there no public institutions for edu-
cation, teachers would never find their account in teaching either an ex-
ploded and antiquated system of a science acknowledged to be useful,
or a science universally believed to be a mere useless and pedantic heap
of sophistry and nonsense; and a gentleman, after going through a long
and expensive course of education, could not come into the world com-
pletely ignorant of every thing which is the common subject of conver-
sation among gentlemen and men of the world. Perhaps, in civilized
and commercial society, the state may, with advantage, pay some atten-
tion to the education of the common people, who are always rendered
more orderly and useful by well chosen instruction. By establishing
parish schools for reading, writing, and accounts, and perhaps the ele-
mentary parts of geometry and mechanics, giving premiums to those
who excel, and obliging every man to undergo an examination in the
essential parts of education before he be allowed to set up any trade, or
obtain the freedom of corporations, the public might, at a small ex-
pence, facilitate, encourage, and even impose upon the common people,
a necessity of acquiring some education.
Institutions for the general instruction of the people in religion derive
no advantage from independent endowments, respecting the zeal and
industry of teachers. If they are more learned and accomplished than
those who do not enjoy endowments, they have generally less influence
}

1
854
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
F
over the inferior ranks of the people; and have therefore always found
it necessary to call for the support of the civil magistrate against their
opponents. In civil disputes, that religious sect which has been leagued
with the victorious party has generally been powerful enough to oblige
the civil magistrate to respect their opinions and inclinations; and
their clergy have required that he should silence and subdue their ad-
versaries, and bestow an independent provision on themselves. Had
politics never called in the aid of religion, it would have dealt equally
and impartially with the different sects. This would have increased
their number, but, by dividing their strength, it would have been pro-
ductive of moderation and good temper. Religious sects, being gene-
rally begun among the common people, usually adopt an austere system
of morals, sometimes indeed carried to an extravagant height, but on
the whole favourable to good order. Where there is an established or
governing religion, the sovereign cannot be secure unless he has the
means of influencing the clergy: which is most successfully done by
keeping their honours and preferments in his hands. Church prefer-
ment was very early at the disposal of the church. At length, the
Pope gradually drew to himself the collation of bishoprics, abbacies,
and inferior benefices; and thus the clergy through Europe were form-
ed into a kind of spiritual army under one general; not only indepen-
dent of the sovereigns of their respective countries, but dependent upon
one foreign sovereign. Thus did the church of Rome, through the
tenth, eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth centuries, maintain the most
formidable combination that ever was formed against the authority and
security of civil government, as well as against the liberty, reason, and
happiness of mankind. The gradual improvements of arts, manufac-
tures, and commerce, destroyed at the same time the power of the great
barons and of the clergy. By furnishing them with more opportunities
of spending their riches upon themselves, and increasing their desire of
gain, they led them to render their tenants independent upon them by
granting them long leases, and put an end to that hospitality and cha-
rity which had given them such influence with the people. In this si-
tuation of things, the sovereigns endeavoured to recover their influence
in the church, by procuring to the deans and chapters of each diocese
the restoration of their ancient right of electing the bishop, and to the
monks that of electing the abbot. This was the object of several sta-
tutes in England in the fourteenth century, and of the pragmatic sanc-
tion established in France in the fifteenth century. Other similar re-
gulations took place in other parts of Europe; and the authority of the
Pope gradually declined. The reformation greatly aided the efforts of
the sovereigns of Europe against the power of Rome. Henry VIII. of
England renounced the Pope's supremacy. The reformation gave birth
to two principal parties, the Lutheran and Calvinistic; the former of
whom preserved episcopal government and clerical subordination, and
gave the sovereign the disposal of bishoprics and superior benefices:
the latter gave the people the right of electing their ministers, and esta-
blished a perfect equality among the clergy. To prevent the frequent
disturbances which occurred, the magistrate resumed the right of pre-
sentation. Moderate benefices are most favourable to the usefulness and
respectableness of the clergy.


The expences necessary to support the dignity of the sovereign
must increase in an improving state of society.
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
855
The sources of the general or public revenue, from which the several
expences of government may be defrayed, are the funds which belong
to the sovereign or commonwealth, or taxes upon the people.
The sovereign may derive a revenue from the profit of stock employ-
ed in merchandise, as, by taking the public bank, post-office, &c. into
his hands, or engaging in mercantile projects. But it has always been
found that the character of the trader and sovereign are inconsistent.
A state may derive part of its revenue from the interest of money, as
is the case with the canton of Berne. The rent of public lands has
been found a more secure and permanent source of revenue than either
of the former; but these would be better improved and yield a greater
revenue, by being in the hands of private persons. Since the modern
art of war and other refinements have rendered government so expen-
sive, public stock and lands have been found improper and insufficient
sources of revenue, and taxes on the people have become necessary.


The subjects of every state ought to contribute to the support of go-
vernment in proportion to the revenue which they enjoy under the pro-
tection of the state. The tax to be paid by each individual should be
certain and not arbitrary. Every tax should be levied at the time and
in the manner most convenient to the contributor. And every tax
should be so contrived as to take and keep out of the pockets of the
people as little as possible above what is brought into the public trea-
sury. All private revenue arising from rent, profit, and wages, every
tax must fall upon some one of these separately, or upon all of them
indifferently.
Taxes upon the rent of land may either be according to some fixed
canon, or variable, according to the variations in the real rent of the
land. A land-tax on the former plan necessarily becomes unequal.
In Great Britain the rents of lands have universally risen, and given
all the proprietors of lands an advantage, though in very unequal de-
grees. A variable land-tax has its inconveniences; particularly, it
would, without great precaution, discourage the improvement of lands.
Taxes upon the produce of land are, in fact, taxes upon the rent.
Tythes are a very unequal tax, and a great discouragement to cultiva-
tion. A tax of this sort, paid in kind, would be liable to suffer much
from mismanagement. A certain sum of money, or modus, in lieu of
such taxes, or tythes, would be more uniform, and would not discou-
rage improvement. A tax upon the rent of houses would fall partly
upon the tenant and partly upon the owner of the ground. The pro-
portion of the expence of house rent to the whole expence of living,
is highest in the first ranks of life, and gradually diminshes: a tax upon
house rents would therefore generally fall heaviest upon the rich.` A
tax upon ground rents would fall altogether upon its owner; and would
be easy and equitable, as these rents are in proportion to the populous-
ness and wealth of any place. Window taxes are unequal, falling
much heavier upon the pccr than the rich.
Profit, or the revenue arising from stock, may be divided into the
part which pays the interest, and the surplus. The latter is not taxake
directly, for this being the natural compensation to the employer, such
a tax would oblige him either to raise the rate of profit, or sink that of
interest. The interest of money is not a proper object of taxation, be-
cause the amount of a man's capital stock is not easily known, and be-
cause it is liable to be removed, and might be driven away by a vexa-

856
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
tious tax. The tax upon stock in England, though annexed to the
land-tax, is much lighter; it is rated much below its real value. Taxes
upon particular branches of trade are taxes upon stock: as those upon
pedlars, hackney-coaches, and ale-houses. A tax upon the profits of
stock, in a particular branch of trade, lays a restraint upon the market:
a tax upon the profits of stock in agriculture falls upon the landlord.
All taxes upon the transference of property of every kind, so far as they
diminish the capital value of that property, tend to diminish the funds
destined for the maintenance of productive labour, and therefore are
injudicious.
Taxes upon labour, where the demand for it, and the price of pro-
visions remain the same, fall immediately upon the employer, and finally
upon the landlord and the consumer. These are extremely injurious
to the public, and oppressive to individuals. The emoluments of offices,
being generally higher than is necessary, might properly be taxed.
The taxes which are intended to fall indifferently on every different
species of revenue, are capitation taxes, and taxes upon consumable
cornmodities.
Capitation taxes, if it is attempted to proportion them to the revenue
of each contributor, become altogether arbitrary: if they are propor-
tioned by rank, they become unequal. As far as they are levied upon
the lower ranks of people they are direct taxes upon labour: they are
always burdensome and unpopular.
Consumable commodities are either necessaries or luxuries. Neces-
saries are those things which nature and the established rules of de-
cency have rendered necessary to the lowest class of the people. In
England a linen shirt and leather shoes are become necessaries. A tax
upon necessaries is a tax upon the wages of labour; because labourers
must pay more for them. Taxes upon the luxuries of the poor act as
sumptuary laws, disposing them to refrain from or moderate the use of
superfluities. Taxes upon necessaries or labour fall doubly upon land-
lords, by reducing their rents and increasing their expences.
In Great Britain the principal taxes upon the necessaries of life are
those upon salt, leather, soap, and candles. Coals, though a necessary
article, are taxed very highly when carried coastwise, but pay no duty
by land-carriage or inland navigation. Where they are naturally cheap,
they are consumed duty free; where dear, loaded with a heavy duty.
Consumable commodities may be taxed either by demanding an annual
sum for using them from the consumer, or by levying a tax upon them
while they are in the hands of the dealer: the first method suits such
goods as last a considerable time, the latter those of which the consump-
tion is more immediate.
?
The prohibition of, or high duties imposed upon, the importation of
inany foreign goods, has annihilated or diminished the revenue from
them, without being of real benefit to trade. Perhaps the duties of
customs might, without any loss to the revenue, and with much ad
vantage to trade, be confined to a few articles only. The whole con-
sumption of the inferior ranks of people being much greater in value as
well as quantity, than that of the superior and middle ranks, those taxes
which are laid upon the luxuries of the common people must be most
productive. Hence the great benefit of the taxes on the materials and
manufacture of fermented liquors. And this tax might be rendered
-
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
857
:
more equal, as well as profitable, by taking off the different duties upon
beer and ale, and tripling the malt-tax.
In that rude state of society which precedes the extension of commerce,
few articles of luxury are to be obtained, and those who possess a large
revenue usually spend the surplus in hospitality and charity. In this
state few persons live beyond their income, and many hoard up trea-
sures; among the rest, the sovereign. In a commercial country, both
the people and sovereign finding new sources of expence, live up to and
often beyond their income. The want of parsimony in a state in times
of peace, imposes the necessity of contracting debt in the time of war.
In the immediate exigences of war, government can have no resource
but in borrowing. The increase of wealth in a commercial country,
and the security of property in a free state, introduce an ability and
willingness in the subject to lend their money to government on extra-
ordinary occasions.
Public debts are contracted on what may be called personal credit,
without assigning or mortgaging any particular fund for payment, or
on assignments and mortgages. The unfunded debt of Great Britain is
of the former kind, and consists partly in a debt which bears, or is sup-
posed to bear, no interest, as debts for extraordinary services, extraordi-
naries of the army and navy, arrears of subsidies, &c. and partly in a
debt which bears interest, resembling a private debt contracted on a
promissory note; of which kind are navy and exchequer bills. The
bank, by discounting these bills at their current value, and paying the
interest due upon them, facilitates their circulation.

Mortgages or assignments are made for a short period of time only,
or for perpetuity. In the one case the fund is supposed sufficient to
pay both principal and interest within the limited time; in the other it
pays a perpetual annuity equivalent to the interest only, government
being at liberty at any time to redeem this annuity upon paying the
principal: in the former method money is said to be raised by anticipa-
tion: in the latter by funding. In Great Britain the annual land and
malt taxes are regularly anticipated every year; the bank of England
advancing at interest the sums for which those taxes are granted, and
receiving payment as their produce comes in. The first loans in the
reigns of king William and queen Anne were upon anticipation for a
short term. The produce of the taxes destined to this purpose proving
insufficient, deficiencies arose, and it became necessary to prolong the
term of those taxes. This was done from time to time, and new taxes
appointed to make good deficiencies, and to serve as a fund for new
loans. In 1711, several duties were made perpetual, as a fund for
paying the interest of upwards of nine millions, the capital of the South
Sea company, advanced to government; as some other taxes had be-
fore been perpetuated to pay the interest of money advanced by the
Bank company and the East India company. In 1715, the different
taxes which had been mortgaged for paying several annuities were ac-
cumulated into one common fund, called the aggregate fund. In 1717,
several other taxes were rendered perpetual, and accumulated into an-
other common fund called the general fund. In consequence of these
different acts the greater part of the taxes, which had before been an-
ticipated only for a short term of years, were rendered perpetual as a
fund for paying not the capital, but the interest only of the money
which had been borrowed upon them by different anticipations. Dur

5 R
858
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
ing the reign of queen Anne, the market rate of interest sinking from
six to five per cent. and this being fixed as the highest lawful interest,
the creditors of the public were soon after induced to accept of five per
cent. interest; which occasioned a saving of one-sixth of the greater
part of the annuities paid out of the three great funds above mentioned.
This saving left a considerable surplus in the produce of the taxes ac-
cumulated into those funds, and laid the foundation of the Sinking
Fund. In 1727, the interest of the greater part of the public debts
was farther reduced to four per cent. and in 1753 and 1757 to three
and a half, and three per cent. which reductions still farther augmented
the sinking fund.

During the reigns of William and Anne large sums were frequently
borrowed upon annuities for terms of years, and for lives. On the
fifth of January 1775, the remainder of the long annuities not subscrib-
ed into other stock, amounted only to £ 136,453:12:8. Annuities
for lives have occasionally been granted as an additional encouragement
to subscribers or lenders to government, either upon separate lives, or
upon lots of lives, called Tontine, from the first inventor of them.
Sinking funds having generally arisen, not so much from any surplus
of taxes as from the reduction of interest, must be insufficient for dis-
charging the debts, even if rightly applied. In a time of peace, after
the people have been burdened with many taxes to support the former
war, which are perhaps barely sufficient to pay the interests of the
debts thus incurred, new taxes would be dangerous, and the easiest ex-
pedient, in case of extraordinary expences, is to have recourse to the
Sinking Fund. Hence the usual misapplication of this fund.
In Great Britain, from the time that we had first recourse to the
ruinous expedient of perpetual funding, the reduction of the public
debt in time of peace, has never borne any proportion to its accumu-
lation in time of war. The national debt commenced in 1688. In
1697 it amounted to upwards of twenty-one millions. In less than four
years from that time five millions were paid off. In 1714 the debt was
fifty-three millions; in 1722, fifty-five millions. From 1723 to 1739
during seventeen years peace, it was only reduced to forty-six millions.
During the Spanish and French wars from 1739 to 1748, the debt in-
creased to seventy-eight millions. In 1755, before the breaking out of
the last war, the funded debt was seventy-two millions. In 1764, the
funded and unfunded debt amounted to 139 millions. In 1775, they
amounted to 129 millions. Of the ten millions which have been paid,
not five were discharged out of the savings of the ordinary revenue.
appears, therefore, altogether chimerical to expect that the public debt
should ever be discharged by any savings from the ordinary revenue as
it stands at present.
It
The annual revenue of Great Britain in time of peace amounts to
more than forty millions; a sum sufficient, if unmortgaged, to carry on
the most vigorous war. The people therefore are as much incumbered,
and their ability to accumulate as much impaired, in time of peace, as
they would have been in the most expensive war, had the system of
funding never been adopted. This practice has gradually enfeebled
every state which has adopted it. This is the case with Genoa and
Venice, Spain, France, and the united Provinces.
The raising of the denomination of coin has been an usual expedient
for disguising a real public bankruptcy under the pretence of payment,
1
}
POLITICAL ECONOMY.
859
1
لم :
but this is a pitiful and extremely pernicious evasion. A similar expe-
dient is that of adulterating the standard of the coin: the only difference
is, that this method of defrauding the creditors of the public is more
artful and concealed. An avowed bankruptcy is preferable to such
artifices.

The public debt can only be equitably discharged by augmenting
the public revenue, or reducing the public expence. The revenue
might be increased by a more equal tax upon land, or upon the rent
of houses; but most easily and advantageously, by extending the
British system of taxation to all the different provinces of the empire,
at the same time allowing them a proportional representation in the
British parliament. Ireland is certainly as able, and our American and
our West Indian plantations, having neither tythes nor poor's rate to
pay, more able, to bear a land-tax than Great Britain. Stamp duties
might be levied in all countries, without variation, where the forms of
law process are nearly the same. The increase of the custom-house
laws of Great Britain to Ireland and the plantations, provided it was
accompanied with an extension of the freedom of trade, would be ad-
vantageous to both. The excise duties might be applied to Ireland
without any variation, and to the plantations with modifications suited
to their produce and consumption. This extension of taxation, sup-
posing that Ireland and the plantations contain eight millions of inha-
bitants, would increase the revenue to sixteen millions; deducting one
million for supporting the civil establishment of both, out of this reve-
nue, six millions might annually be spared towards the payment of the
debt, and as the debt diminishes, a much greater and continually in-
creasing sum, so that the whole might be discharged in a few years.
It is no objection to this plan, that the Canadians have but little
gold and silver: for this is the effect of choice, not necessity; their
great demand for active and productive stock rendering it convenient
for them to have as little dead stock as possible. Their payments might
be chiefly made in produce, by means of their mercantile connections.
If it should be found impracticable to draw any considerable aug-
mentation of revenue from any of these resources, nothing remains but
a diminution of expence. And the most obvious and effectual means
of doing this, would be by relinquishing the colonies which have been
the occasion of such heavy burdens. If any of the provinces of the
British empire cannot be made to contribute towards the support of the
whole empire, it is surely time that Great Britain should free herself
from the expence of defending those provinces in time of war, and of
supporting any part of their civil or military establishment in time of
peace, and endeavour to accommodate her future views and designs to
the real distress of her present circumstances.

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