Chapter VIII: Part 8

For some years past, the French have been extolled for a mode of grinding, called _mouture economique_; that were we not aware such had been practised in ancient Rome, it might be conceived to form an important epoch in the miller’s art. This process, however, is not new; it consists in first grinding the wheat not so fine as might be required for ordinary purposes; afterwards putting the meal several times through the mill, and sifting it with various sieves. It should seem this method was practised in ancient Rome; for Pliny, who took care to inform himself of most things, tells us, that in his time they had, at least, five different kinds of flour, all procured from the same corn. It appears, that the ancient Romans had advanced very far in this art, as well as in that of baking, &c., from what may be collected from its economical polity preserved by Pliny and others. Whence it may be fairly inferred, they knew how to prepare from corn more kinds of meal, and from meal more kinds of bread, than the moderns even now are acquainted with.

Pliny reckons that bread should be one-third heavier than the meal used for baking it: this proportion it appears, was known in Germany nearly a century and a half ago, and discovered from experiments on bread made at different times. German bakers, although they may have been occasionally mistaken, have always undoubtedly given more bread than meal. It appears that in latter periods, the art of grinding, as well as baking, has declined very much in Italy; and their bread, although produced from the finest grain in the world, is altogether bad when manufactured by Italians. On this account, bakers from Germany it seems, are generally employed in public baking-houses, as well at Rome as in Venice. Bakers of that people are generally settled at those places, where they have been in the habit of manufacturing that article for the principal inhabitants, for upwards of three hundred years.

From Beckmann’s History, it would appear that the _mouture economique_ of the French has been known to the Germans for more than two hundred years. Many were the attempts, repeatedly enforced, to deter the experiments made, from time to time, by the French experimentalists, to perfect this article previous to its being accomplished. In this, the French suffered themselves to be taught by prejudice and directed by ignorance. Numerous and judicious were the experiments made by the scientific and philosophic of that people to produce the most in quantity and best in quality from a definite quantity of grain, at which the ignorant of their species suffered their prejudice to revolt, and the powerful readily come into the mode of thinking of the vulgar, to whom they lent their aid, to effect what Heaven in revelation had commanded, viz: “Give not that which is holy unto dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest they trample them under their feet, and turn again and rend you.” Mat. vii. 6.

It will, from the succeeding statement, that in using the language which has just appeared, circumstances sanctioned us. The clergy of the chapel royal, and parish church at Versailles, sent their wheat in the beginning of last century to be ground at an adjacent mill: according to custom, it was put through the mill only once, and the bran, which yet contained much flour, was sold for fattening cattle. This miller having, however, in process of time learnt the process of the _mouture economique_, purchased the bran from these ecclesiastics, and found that it yielded him as good flour as they had procured from the whole wheat. The miller, at length, is presumed, in a qualm of conscience, to have regretted cheating those holy men; he accordingly discovered to them the secret, and gave them afterwards fourteen bushels of flour from their wheat, instead of eight, which he had only furnished them before. This voluntary discovery of the miller was made in 1760; and it is probable the same discovery was made at the same time by others.

A baker, named Malisset, proposed to the lieutenant-general of the French police to teach a method by which people could grind their corn with more advantage; and experiments were accordingly made and succeeded. A mealman of Senlis, named Buquet, having the inspection of the mill belonging to the large hospital at Paris, made the same proposal: the result of his experiments, made under the direction of the magistrates, was printed. The investigation of this art was now taken up by men of learning and science, who gave it a suitable denomination; explained it, made experiments and calculations upon it, and at the same time recommended it so much, that the _mouture economique_ engaged the attention of all magistrates throughout France. Its government sent Buquet to Lyons in 1764, to Bourdeaux in 1766, to Dijon in 1767, and to Mondidier in 1768. The benefit which France derived from that trouble, shows that it was not taken in vain. Previous to that period, a Paris _setier_ yielded from eighty to ninety pounds of meal, and from one hundred and fifty to one hundred and sixty pounds of bran; but the same quantity now yields one hundred and eighty-five pounds, and according to the latest improvements, one hundred and ninety-five pounds of meal. In the time of St. Louis, from four to five _setiers_ were reckoned necessary for the annual maintenance of a man; these were scarcely sufficient; as many were allowed to the patients in hospitals; and such were the calculations made in the sixteenth century. When the miller’s art was everywhere improved, the four _setiers_ were reduced to three and a half, and from the latest improvements, they do not exceed two.

From mills which only force the farinaceous parts from the husk, thereby rounding the grain, the common denomination of _barley mills_ comes, from such mills being used in the manufacture of pearl barley. In their construction, these mills differ but little from wheat-mills, and the machinery for the former is generally added to the latter. The grand specific distinction is, that the millstone is rough hewn round its circumference, and in the stead of a lower stone, there is generally a wooden case; the middle lined with a plate of iron, pierced like a grater with holes, the sharp edge of which turns upwards. The barley is thrown upon the stone, which, as it turns round, frees it from the husk, and rounds it; after which, it is put into sieves and sifted.

So long as the policy of governments was blind to the interests of men, and so long as the griping avarice of a few was permitted to lay the free-born of their species under the most severe contributions, so long were permitted to build mills only, who had obtained a regal license for that purpose. But, thank heaven! that ray of light it has lent generally to man, has, in some sort, illuminated even the minds of ministers and their tyrannical masters, to curtail that spirit which had cast the fetters of vassalage given by feudal tyranny to its upstart dependants. Men were left, at length, to improve their property according to their pleasure: since which period, more mills have been erected for the convenience of the species. This privilege, it appears, was not prohibited by the Roman laws; those irradiations of superior intellect well appreciated human rights. It was not till the darkness of the middle ages had obscured the mental hemisphere, that any person was presumed to possess a superiority over others, and to abridge the small portion of general happiness that the favoured of fortune might add to his satiety. During those days of universal darkness, numberless were the evils which men suffered, and among them the present object of our consideration was not the least; frequently having to travel for miles to a mill to procure the necessary manufacture of so essential an article to human life as bread.

Let us not be decoyed, however, by the resentment produced by the spirit of human oppression, beyond the bounds prescribed by reason, to inveigh against such ordinance when public and general utility ever was consulted; and certain public streams were by wise laws to be kept free from individual encroachments with impunity. It is not against the dictates of sober reason we declare hostility, but the gross abuse of power.

A time there was, when human baseness in princes and potentates, their vassals doubtless aping the manners of their masters, claimed as their right not only the common element of water, but also that of air! A curious incident related by Jargow, and detailed by Professor Beckmann, as follows, establishes the insolence of upstart men:--“In the end of the fourteenth century, the monks of the celebrated but long since destroyed monastery of Augustines, at Windshiem, in the province of Overyssel, were desirous of erecting a wind-mill not far from Zwoll; but a neighouring lord endeavoured to prevent them, declaring that the wind in that quarter belonged to him. The monks, unwilling to give up their point, had recourse to the Bishop of Utrecht, under whose jurisdiction the province had continued since the tenth century. The bishop, highly incensed against the pretender, who wished to usurp his authority, affirmed, that the wind of the whole province belonged only to him; and, in 1391, gave the convent express permission to build a wind-mill wherever they thought proper.”

Without the convenience of human ingenuity heaven had sent the blessing of life in vain; we have, under this impression, therefore, bestowed much time on this article, from a conviction of its vital importance to the necessities of human existence.

SAW-MILLS.

The invention of the plumb-line and saw, with other useful articles in mechanics, and handicrafts, are usually ascribed to that great--that universal genius--Dædalus: although others give the merit to one Talus, the nephew of Dædalus, and say, that the discovery was made under the following circumstances:--Talus, they tell us, having found the jaw-bone of a snake, cut a piece of wood in two with the teeth; thence, they say, he invented the saw; his maternal uncle and master, they add, was so jealous of this invention, that he murdered the young man; and the mode of the discovery of the murder is accounted for in this manner:--some persons saw Dædalus covering up the grave of his victim, and asked what he was doing? “Oh,” says he, “I am only burying a snake.” How much credit may be due to this relation, we do not take upon ourselves to determine. Pliny, as well as Seneca, were of the former opinion; whilst Diodorus Siculus, and others, hold the latter. The youth is named by some Perdix. However, it appears to rest between these two, no other claimant appearing. Ovid says, it was not the jaw of a snake, but the back-bone of a fish. The former, however, appears to be the most rational opinion as to its origin, as it is conjectured that the vertebræ would not be sufficiently strong, and the joints are too far apart, as well as too large.

The Grecian saw is said to have been much the same as that instrument which the moderns now use. This idea is corroborated by an ancient painting discovered in Herculaneum; likewise from an antique representation of this instrument, given by the celebrated Montfaucon.

The preceding observations, however, have relation to the subject of this article only, inasmuch as they are introductory to what follows.

The most beneficial and ingenious improvement that has been made in saws was the invention and introduction of machinery, called saw-mills, which, in woody countries, as well as for delicate and fine veneers, are of the greatest utility; in the former case, wood forms the chief article of commerce where labourers are scarce; in the latter, it may be cut nearly as thin as a sheet of paper. These saw-mills also finish flooring deals, grooved, dovetailed, and planed on both sides, at the rate of two deals, of twenty feet each, in a minute! They are commonly worked in this country by means of steam-engines; in woody countries they are generally erected on the banks of rivers, the water of which propels the machinery.

It is said they were invented in Germany, as far back as the fourth century, upon the smaller river Roer; for, although Ansonius speaks of water-mills, for cutting stone, he says nothing of mills to cut timber. The art of cutting marble with a saw is very ancient; Pliny thinks it was invented in Caria; at least, he knew of no place or building, incrusted with marble, older than the palace of King Mausolus, at Helicarnassus. Vitruvius also names the circumstances, although he uses different terms for expressions of the same sense. He commends the beauty of its marble, whilst Pliny speaks of its different kinds: the former viewed it as an architect, whilst the latter inspected it as a naturalist. It also does appear, from other writers, that the harder and precious kinds of stones were cut in the same manner; as Pliny speaks of a building adorned with agate, cornelian, lapis-lazuli, and amethysts. Yet there is no mention made of mills for cutting wood; or, admitting they had been invented, it is probable they shared the fate of many other useful inventions,--had been forgotten, or else some considerable modern improvement had been made in their construction.

Since the period of the first invention, they have been erected in various parts of Europe and America. There appears to have been one erected in the vicinity of Augsburg, as early as 1337; at Erlinger, in 1417.

Upon the discovery of the island of Madeira, in 1420, the Infanta Henry sent settlers there, and caused European fruits of every kind to be carried there; and amongst other productions, saw-mills and other machinery to cut the valuable timber found there into portable pieces, which were afterwards transported to Portugal. In 1724, the city of Breslau had a saw-mill which produced the yearly rent of three marks. In 1490, the magistrates of Erfurt purchased a forest, and built a mill of this description. In Norway, a country covered with wood, there was one built in 1530. This mode of manufacture was called the new art; and because the exportation of deals was by that means increased, a royal impost was introduced by Christian III. in 1545, called the deal-tythe. Soon after Henry Ranzau caused the first mill to be erected at Holstein. In the year 1555, the Bishop of Ely, being ambassador from the Princess Mary of England to the court of Rome, saw a saw-mill in the neighbourhood of Lyons: the writer of his travels thought it worthy of particular description:--“The saw-mill is driven by an upright wheel; and the water that makes it go is gathered whole into a narrow trough, which delivereth the same water to the wheels. This wheel hath a piece of timber put to the axle-tree end, like the handle of a brooch, and fastened to the end of the saw, which being turned with the force of the water, hoisteth up and down the saw, that it continually eateth in, and the handle of the same is kept in a rigall of wood from swerving. Also the timber lieth as it were upon a ladder, which is brought by little and little to the saw with another vice.” In the sixteenth century, there was a grand improvement made in this machine by having several saws affixed to one beam, by which timber could be cut into several planks or boards, and of any thickness, at the same time. There was one of these at Ratisbon, upon the Danube, in 1575.

In England saw-mills were at first received with as little encouragement as printing met with in Turkey, and from the same motive. When the attempt was made to introduce them it was said the sawyers would be deprived of bread. For this reason it was found necessary to abandon a saw-mill erected by a Dutchman, near London, in 1663. However, in the year 1700, a gentleman of the name of Houghton laid before the nation the advantages to be derived from them; but he expressed his apprehension that it might cause a commotion among the people. What he feared, actually came to pass; for, on the erection of one by a wealthy timber merchant, by the desire of the society for the promotion of arts, in 1767, to be propelled by the wind, under the direction of James Stansfield, who had learnt the method of constructing them in Holland and Norway, a foolish mob assembled and pulled it to pieces. Many years previous to this there had been a similar mill erected in Scotland. There is now hardly a town of any importance in the kingdom but what has one or more saw-mills in operation.

FORKS.

The fork is an article of every-day use amongst us, and on that account little thought of; still the short space we intend to occupy with this subject may, perhaps, convey a little information to many of our readers unknown to them before, or, at least, unthought of.

There is not the least room to suppose the ancients were at all acquainted with this little table utensil, now so necessary to our own comfort and convenience, to say nothing of our ideas of cleanliness. Pliny, who enumerated most things natural, physical, philosophical, and economical, makes no mention of them; nor does it occur in any other writer of antiquity; neither does Pollux speak of it in the very full catalogue which he has given of things necessary for a table.

Neither the Greeks or Romans had any name in the least applicable to its use, either direct or by inference, where it can be asserted that such an instrument was intended. The ancients had, it is true, in Greece, their _creagra_. In Rome, their _furca_, _fuscina_, _furcilla_, &c.: the Grecian instrument somewhat resembled a rake of an ordinary construction, and calculated for the purpose of taking meat out of a boiling pot, constructed in the shape of a hook, or rather the bent fingers of the hand.

With reference to the Roman names, the first two were undoubtedly applied to instruments which approached nearer to our furnace and hay forks.--The trident of Neptune is also called _fuscina_. The furcilla was large enough to be employed as a weapon of defence. The present Latin name for a fork, _fusinula_, is not to be found in any of the old Latin writers.

It is the opinion, we understand, of a learned Italian writer, that the ancient Romans used the instruments they called _ligulæ_, instead of forks. Now those instruments had some distant resemblance to our teaspoons. Hence we must conclude that they and our ancestors used no forks, because, had they had anything answering the purpose, even in effect, it must undoubtedly have had a name.

In the East, we understand it was, and still is, customary to dress their victuals until they become so tender as to be easily pulled in pieces. We are told by modern travellers, that if an animal be dressed before it has lost its natural warmth, it becomes tender and very savoury. This is the Oriental custom, and has been so from the most remote antiquity.

Fortunately, all articles of food were cut up in small pieces before they were served up at table; the necessity for which practice will appear, when we remember they usually took their meals in a recumbent posture upon beds. Originally, persons of rank kept an officer for the purpose of cutting the meat, who used a knife, the only one placed at table, which, in opulent families, had an ivory handle, and was ornamented with silver.

The bread was never cut at table; it needed it not, being usually baked thin, somewhat resembling the Passover cake of the Jews; this is not understood, however, to have been universal.

The Chinese use no forks; however, to supply them, they have small sticks of ivory, often of very fine workmanship, inlaid with silver and gold, which each guest employs to pick up the bits of meat, it being previously cut small. The invention of forks was not known till about two centuries ago in Europe, where people eat the same as they do now in Turkey.

In the New Testament we read of putting hands into the dish. Homer, as well as Ovid, mention the same custom.

In the quotation from the sacred writings, we observe that the guests had, it is presumed, no instrument to help themselves out of the common dish which contained the repast; for, upon the question being put of who was to betray the Saviour, the answer was given in the following quotation, “It is one of the twelve that dippeth with me in the dish.”

In the passage cited from Homer, the phrase, according to the Latin translation, implies the same sense. And had the Romans been apprised of the utility of this instrument, or in fact of any substitute, there could have been no occasion for the master of the amorous art to have given his instructions to his pupils in nearly similar terms which we now use to children.

Although Count Caylus and Grignon both assert that ancient forks have been found, we still want further testimony. The former says, one with two prongs was found among some rubbish in the Appian Way, which he alleges to be of beautiful workmanship, terminating in the handle with a carved stag’s foot. Notwithstanding the high reputation of that author, this assertion is not credited. The latter says, he found some in the ruins of a Roman town in Champagne; but he does not describe them, otherwise than to observe that one was of copper or brass, and the others of iron: and speaking of the latter, says, they appear to be table-forks, but are very coarsely made.

The truth seems to be that table-forks were first used in Italy, as appears from the book of Galeotus Martius, an Italian in the service of Matthias Corvinus, King of Hungary, who reigned from 1458 to 1490. Martius relates that at that period forks were not used at table in Hungary as in Italy; but that at meals each person laid hold of the meat with his fingers, and on that account they were much stained with saffron, usually put into sauces and soups. He praises the king for eating without a fork, conversing at the same time, and never dirtying his clothes.

In France, at the end of the sixteenth century, forks were quite unknown even at the court of the monarch. Neither at that period were they known in Sweden.

From the history of the travels of our countryman, Coryate, entitled “Crudities,” first published in 1611, and afterwards in 1776, the author says he first saw them in Italy, and he was also the first person who used them in England. As his account of them is curious, we may be excused giving an extract, slightly altering the orthography.

“Here I will mention a thing that might have been spoken of before in discourse of the first Italian town. I observed a custom in all those Italian cities and towns through which I passed, that is not used in any other country I saw in my travels; neither do I think that any other nation in Christendom doth use it, but only Italy. The Italian, and also most strangers that are commorant in Italy, do always at their meals, use a little fork when they cut their meat. For while with their knife, which they hold in one hand, they cut the meat out of the dish, they fasten the fork, which they hold in their other hand, upon the same dish; so that whatsoever he be that, sitting in the company of any others at meals, should unadvisedly touch the dish of meat with his fingers, from which all at the table do cut, he will give occasion of offence unto the company, as having transgressed the laws of good manners, insomuch that for his error he shall be at least brow-beaten if not reprehended in words. This form of feeding I understand is generally used in all places of Italy; their fork being for the most part made of iron or steel, and some of silver, but those are used only by gentlemen. The reason of this their curiosity is, because the Italian cannot by any means endure to have his dish touched with fingers--seeing all men’s fingers are not alike clean. Hereupon I myself thought good to imitate the Italian fashion by this forked cutting of meat, not only while I was in Italy, but also in Germany, and oftentime in England, since I came home, being once equipped for that frequent using of my fork by a certain learned gentleman, a familiar friend of mine, one Mr. Lawrence Whitaker, who in his merry humour doubted not to call one at table _farsifer_, only for using a fork at feeding, but for no other cause.”

In many parts of Spain, we understand that, _at present_, drinking-glasses, spoons, and forks are rarities. It is also said, that even in taverns in many countries, particularly in France, knives are not placed on the table, because it is expected that each person should have one of his own. This custom the modern French appear to have derived from their ancestors the ancient Gauls. But, as no person will eat any longer without forks, the landlords are obliged to furnish these, together with plates and spoons.

Among the Highlanders in Scotland, Dr. Johnson asserts, that knives have been introduced at table since the Revolution only. Before that period the men were accustomed to cut their meat with a knife they carry as a companion to their dirk. The men cut the meat into small morsels for the women, who used their fingers to put it into their mouths.

The use of forks at table was first considered as a superfluous luxury, and as such forbidden in convents, as appears from the records of the congregation of St. Maur.

MUSIC.

The science of music, or rather of harmony, is extremely ancient--insomuch that, with respect to the latter, it is said to be coeval with Nature herself. But as it has relation to the science now in use, this, like most other arts, whose origin is very remote, is involved in obscurity; and in proportion to the astonishment and wonder excited by its uncommon powers, in a commensurate ratio does mystery, fable, and obscurity envelope its original. However, always remembering that it was from harmony,--

--“from heavenly harmony, this universal frame began.”

Proceeding step by step, it had eventually attained in Greece a very early perfection. Collins, who is justly entitled to the distinguished station held by all pupils of nature and of the muses, who is peculiarly eminent for a just poetical spirit, thus speaks of the heavenly science in his Ode on the Passions--

“Arise, as in that elder time,
Warm, energetic, chaste, sublime;--
Thy wonders in that god-like age
Fill thy recording sisters’ page.--
’Tis said, and I believe the tale,
Thy humblest reed could more prevail,
Had more of strength, diviner rage
Than all that charms this laggard age,
Even all at once together found
Cecilia’s mingled world of sound.”

It will be remembered, however, that the poet calculated as much upon the infant simplicity of nature as upon the uncommon powers of harmony; this consideration will certainly reconcile the apparent extravagance of the thought.

So great were the early powers of verse and harmony, that at one period the votaries of the muses were regarded as persons divinely inspired; they were the priests of man, his legislators, and his prophets. Insomuch was the possessor of the art, and the art itself reverenced, that the responses of the most eminent oracles were received in measured verse. Witness the response of the Delphian oracle received by the Athenian deputation, when Greece inquired for her wisest men, as given by Xenophon:--

“Wise is Sophocles, more wise Euripides,
But the wisest of all men is Socrates.”

Music eventually claimed the most unlimited control over the affections of mankind, as could be proved by an infinity of instances; we shall mention one only from a well authenticated fact, and finely illustrated in that of Timotheus from “Alexander’s Feast,” by Dryden. We omit the hyperbolic representation of the raising of the walls of Thebes by the power of Amphion’s lute, and the apparently incredible relations of the harmony of the harp of Orpheus, which are all personifications of natural effects, and which we have neither room, time, nor opportunity to explain in this place.

If its origin was as previously suggested by Collins, there is occasion to believe the shepherd’s simple life afforded it first existence; in the native and wild notes of the pastoral reed, may be discovered the germ of a science as various as its effects are beautiful. We shall for the present presume the simple Pandean pipe was the first effort of the construction of musical instruments; its soft tone being analogous to the dulcet harmony of the voice. We are led to suppose this from the evidence of ancient statuary, where those pipes are frequently discovered; and this will, perhaps, deduce its origin from the invention of the shepherd god, or oldest Pan. Nevertheless, the lyre, or harp, is alleged from records the most ancient, having at first but three strings, analogous to the three seasons of the primeval year; the treble typical of spring, the tenor resembling summer, and the bass representing winter.

The invention of that instrument, and of music altogether, is claimed in the pagan world by Amphion, a successor of Cadmus, the first king of Thebes, in Bœtia, who is reported, by the music of his harp or lyre to have built the walls of the city; Cadmus having erected the citadel only.

Flutes were first invented by Hyognis, the Phrygian, about the year 1506 before Christ, and first played on the flute the harmony, called Phrygian, and other tunes of the mother of the gods, of Dionysius, of Pan, and of the divinities of the country and the heroes. Terpander also, who was the son of Derdineus, the Lesbian, directed the flute players to reform the tunes of the ancients, and changed the old music, about the year 645 before Christ, as we are informed by the Parian Chronicle. The same Terpander, likewise, added three more strings to the lyre.

When Timotheus, the Spartan musician, was banished his native country for having increased his strings to the number of ten, he sought refuge at the court of Macedon, and accompanied his patron, Alexander, into Persia, when that prince conquered Darius.

From the sacred records of Judea, we may also infer the invention of musical instruments at a date long prior to either of the periods above mentioned, when they inform us in Genesis iv. 21, that Adah, one of the wives of Lamech, had two sons, the name of one of whom was Jubal, who is said to have been “the father of all such who handle the harp and organ.” This infers the anterior invention of that instrument.

Music consists of effects produced by the operation of certain sounds proceeding from the dulcet voice, or musical instruments, regulated by certain time, and a succession of harmonious notes, natural, grave, or flat, _i. e._, half a note below its proper tone; and acute or sharp, _i. e._, half a note above its proper key; and of such modulation of various tones, and of different value, and also of manifold denominations: the natural tones consisting of eight notes, with the addition of octaves, in various keys, with flats and sharps introduced to afford variety from the skill of the master, at different periods, to produce the most agreeable diversity in his composition; and sometimes according to the subject or words to which his music is adapted. Those musical notes, though proceeding from so small a number of radicals, are analogous to the incalculable, the endless forms, which orthography and rhetoric can afford to a well-informed orator, or elegant author, to embellish any subject. Thus from the definite number of twenty-four notes, varied in different degrees, by sharps, flats, semi-tones, &c., are produced all that is so magical, enthusiastic, and transporting in the empire of omnipotent music. Like as the alphabetic characters may be varied into myriads of forms suitable to every multifarious species of conversation or composition; in a word, a few musical notes in the hands of a master may be made by his skill to produce, from agreeable interchanges of time, harmony, &c., every variety of musical sentiment which can affect the human soul. A stronger proof cannot be adduced than will be found in the before-cited ode of “Alexander’s Feast,” by the truly poetic Dryden. In all which harmony and melody form conspicuous characteristics.

And of harmony, according to the learned Mr. Mason. The sense in which the ancient Greeks viewed harmony is as follows:--“They by that term understood the succession of simple sounds according to their scale, with respect to acuteness or gravity.” Whilst it appears that by harmony, the moderns understand--“The succession of simple sounds, according to the laws of counterpoints.” From the same authority--“By melody, the ancients understood the succession of simple sounds, according to the laws of rhythm and metre, or in other words, according to time, measure, or cadence. Whereas, the moderns understand by the same term what the ancients meant by harmony, rhythm and metre being excluded.” “And the modern air is what the ancients understood by melody.” Hence, from the preceding definitions, it appears that what is now called harmony was unknown to the ancients; and they viewed that term as we now see simple melody, when we speak of it as a thing distinguished from simple modulated air, and that their term, melody, was applied to what we now call air or song.

Should this be true, the long-contested difficulty, and that train of endless disputes, which has existed among the learned and scientific world so long, will instantly vanish. Should we suppose an ancient flute-player used an improper tone or semi-tone, or had he transgressed the mode or key in which he was playing, he committed an error in harmony; yet his melody might have been perfect, with respect to the laws of rhythm or metre; we should say of a modern musician, under similar circumstances, that he played wrong notes, or was out of tune, yet kept his _time_. Whoever made such a distinction would be allowed to possess a good ear for music, though the moderns would be inclined to call it an ear for melody or intonation. By the rules of musical conversation, we should be justified when we call an instrument out of tune inharmonious, although the intervals were nearly right.

By _harmonica_, the Greeks implied nothing more than that proportion of sound to sound, which mathematicians call _ratio_, or which would be understood in general musical conversation, by an agreeable succession of musical notes;--as ancient harmony consisted of the succession of simple sounds, so does modern harmony consist of the succession of chords.

Whether the _diatonic_ scale be the effect of nature, or produced by art, has occasioned disputation between many; but without losing time or space, we are, we think, authorised, from general opinion, to observe, that compositions formed on it, and on the plan recommended by a lute organist, would produce sensations odiously disgusting to any musical ear.

The diatonic is the most simple genera in music, consisting of tones and major semi-tones; in the scale of which genus the smallest interval is a conjoint degree, which changes its name and place, that is, passing from one to another; a prominent air in this species of modern music is “God save the Queen,” entirely diatonic, without modulation, by the intervention of a single flat or sharp.

It may not be unacceptable to our readers to add a few particulars of one of the greatest composers that ever existed; we allude to the eminently illustrious GEORGE FREDERICK HANDEL, a name dear to science, and entitled to the grateful veneration of every amateur in this divine art. He was born at Halle, in Upper Saxony, on the 24th of February 1684. Scarcely was he able to speak, before he articulated musical sounds. His father was a professor of the healing art as a surgeon and physician, then upwards of sixty, who intended his son for the study of the law. Grieved at the child’s predeliction, he banished all musical instruments from his house. But the spark which nature had kindled in his bosom was not to be extinguished by the mistaken views of a blind parent. The child by some means or other contrived to get a little claverchord into a garret, where, applying himself after the family had retired to rest, he discovered means to produce both melody and harmony. Before he was seven years of age, the Duke of Weissenfells by accident discovered his genius, and prevailed on his father to cherish his inclination. He was accordingly placed with Zachan, organist of the cathedral of Halle; when, from nine to twelve years of age, he composed a church service every week. Losing his father whilst he was in that city, he thought he could best support his mother by repairing to Hamburgh, where he soon attracted general notice. This wonder of the age was then only fourteen, when he composed “Almeria,” his first opera. Having quitted Hamburgh, he travelled for six years in Italy, where, at both Florence and Rome, he excited much attention: at both which places he produced new operatic performances. In that clime of the harmonious muse, he was introduced to, and cultivated the friendship of, Dominico, Scarlatti, Gaspurini, and Zotti, with other eminent scientific characters. He was particularly caressed and patronised by Cardinal Ottoboni, in whose circle he became acquainted with the elegant and natural Corelli. It was here he composed the sonata “Il trionfo del tempo,” the original score of which is now in the Royal Collection. After which he went to Naples, where he set “Acis et Galatea,” in Italian, to music. Returning to Germany, he was patronised by the Elector of Hanover, subsequently George the First. In 1710 he visited London, by permission of his patron, who had settled a pension of £200 per annum on him. In London he produced the opera of “Rinaldo,” universally admired--equal with all his other productions that had preceded. He was compelled to leave, however reluctantly, the British shore, consistent with his engagement to his patron the Elector. He departed, not without exciting general regret, two years after his first arrival in this country. He soon appeared here again, however, and his return was welcomed like the rising of the genial orb of day before the wrapt Ignicolist! But now seduced by the favour which awaited him, he forgot to return. On the death of Queen Anne, who had also settled an annual pension of £200 upon him--equal to what he received from the Elector, his former patron--when that prince ascended the throne, Handel was afraid to appear before his majesty, till, by an ingenious contrivance of Baron Kilmarfyge, he was restored to favour, Queen Anne’s bounty being doubled by the king; and the chief nobility accepted an academy of music under Handel’s direction, which flourished for ten years, till an unfortunate quarrel occurred between him and Senesino, which dissolved the institution, and brought on a contest ruinous to the fortune and the health of our musician.

He was particularly patronised by the Earl of Burlington, the Duke of Chandos, and most of the distinguished nobility of Great Britain.

Having restored his health at the baths of Aix-la-Chapelle, he for the future chose sacred subjects, which were performed at his theatre in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, Covent Garden, and Westminster Abbey. He died in April, 1759, aged seventy-five, and was buried in Westminster Abbey, where he was honoured with a public funeral, six peers supporting the pall; the very reverend and truly learned translator of “Longimus,” Dr. Pearce, the Dean, and then Bishop of Rochester, performed the funeral service with a full choir.

He had been a great benefactor to numerous public charities. The funds of the Foundling Hospital were improved through him with the amazing sum of £10,299. The organ in its chapel, and the MS. score of his “Messiah,” were a present and a donation to the foundation from him. He left an amiable private as well as a good public character behind him.

His character as a composer is too well appreciated by the British public to require any remarks from our feeble and inharmonious pen.

SEALING-WAX, SEALS, &c.

Besides metals, five other mediums are enumerated by ancient writers, wherewith letters and public acts were sealed, viz., _terra sigillaris_, cement, paste, common wax and sealing-wax. That the terra sigillaris was used by the Egyptians, we have the evidence of Herodotus, and which, by inference, is strengthened by that of Moses who speaks of seal-rings or signets, whence we may safely infer, that they had a medium of some sort, wherewith they sealed. This _lacuna_ Herodotus supplies, affirming it in direct terms, and assigning a name to the substance they used for that purpose.

This circumstance was only rendered questionable by Pliny, who alleges the Egyptians did not use those things.

Herodotus thus expresses himself: “The Egyptian priest bound to the horns of cattle fit for sacrifice pieces of papyrus with sealing-earth, on which they made an impression with the seal; and such cattle could only be offered up as victims.”

Lucian speaks of a fortune-teller who ordered those who came to consult him, to write down on a bit of paper the questions they wished to ask, to fold it up, and seal it with clay, or any other substance of a like kind.

Such earth appears to have been employed in sealing, by the Byzantyne emperors; for we are told that, at the second Nicene Council, image worship was defended by one saying, “No one believed that those who received written orders from the Emperor, and venerated the seal, worshipped on that account the sealing-earth, the paper, or the lead.”

Cicero relates that Verres, having seen in the hands of his servants a letter written to his son from Agrimentum, and observing on it an impression in sealing-earth, he was so pleased with it that he caused the seal-ring with which it was made to be taken from the possessor.

Also, the same orator, in his defence of Flaccus, produced an attestation sent from Asia, and proved its authenticity by its being sealed with Asiatic sealing-earth; with which, he told the judges, all public and private letters in Asia were sealed: and he showed on the other hand, that the testimony brought by the accuser was false, because it was sealed with _wax_, and for that reason could not have come from Asia. The scholiast Servius relates, that a sybil received a promise from Apollo, that she should live as long as she did not see the earth of the island of the Erythræa, where she resided; that she therefore quitted the place, and retired to Cumae, where she became old and decrepid; but that having received a letter sealed with Erythræn earth, when she saw the seal, she instantly expired.

No one, however, will suppose that this earth was used without preparation, as was that to which is given the name of _creta_ chalk; for, if it was of a natural kind, it must have been of that kind called _potter’s clay_, as that clay is susceptible of receiving an impression, and of retaining it subsequent to hardening by drying. It is believed that the Romans, under the indefinite term _creta_, often understood to be a kind of potter’s earth, which can be proved by many passages in their numerous writers. Columella speaks of a species of chalk of which wine-jars and dishes were made, of which kind it is conjectured Virgil speaks when he calls it adhesive. The ancient writers on agriculture give precisely the same name to marl, which was employed to manure land: now, both chalk and marl, in their natural state, are extremely inapplicable to the purpose for which we are led to believe the _terra sigillaris_ was used; therefore, admitting the Roman _creta_ was composed of them, those substances must naturally have undergone some laborious process, in order to render them proper for the purpose to which they were applied.

Notwithstanding none can feel a higher respect for Professor Beckmann, to whom we are indebted for many of the preceding observations, than we do, yet strongly as we are influenced with this impression, we cannot help observing, consistent with that duty we owe to the public, that we cannot divest ourselves of the opinion that he is only trifling with the public feeling, perhaps for the ostentatious display of his own learning: so many objections of so little weight are raised, that he really appears to write for the purpose of raising new objections to passages, which, in our comprehension, are extremely simple. We cannot help applying to him a passage which occurs in a song of the Swan of Twickenham, who sings:--

“Gnawed his pen, then dashed it on the ground,
Striking from thought to thought, a vast profound.
Plunged for the sense, but found no bottom there,
Yet wrote, and floundered on in mere despair.”

We would not be illiberal or capricious, nor do we presume to any extra portion of intelligence; yet, we think we can in a few words discuss the topic, and perhaps, satisfactorily, on which he has employed so many pages. Those terms which have troubled the professor with learned difficulties really appear to us susceptible of an easy interpretation, and applicable to both or either of the senses in which they are used, as are any words in the language of ancient Rome. Accordingly, we find the term _creta_ implies either chalk, fuller’s clay, loam, white paint, or Asiatic earth, termed creta Asiatica; and, in brief it appears a mere generic name for any kind of earth, raised from below the surface of the soil: this is its true sense. But there cannot be a question, from what is known of the preparation of clay and earth for _terra cotta_ and other plastic purposes, which undergo a variety of washings, kneadings, &c., that similar preparations were requisite, in order to bring it to so curious, so delicate a purpose as that to which the terra sagillaris was applied. And _fosse_, in the sense used by Varre, admits of nearly a similar description, it appearing as a pronomen for the same thing; and indicates either peat, marl, loam, chalk, or any earthy substance which may be raised from below the terrestrial surface.

We have evidence every day in our fruit shops, that in certain countries this kind of earth is yet employed for closing up jars of dried fruits brought from Oporto, Smyrna, and other countries; as these appear to be composed of white chalk of a texture somewhat similar to common mortar. The warmth of the atmosphere, where it is used, soon hardens and prevents the passage of air to the contents; the jars themselves being oftentimes only dried in the sun.

Thus it appears that prepared earths were first used for the purpose of sealing; their adhesive, or, as Virgil has it, their tenacious qualities, being wonderfully improved for manual labour. Next, paste was employed, prepared from dough.

To paste succeeded common wax, sometimes slightly tinctured with a green tint, the effect of endeavouring to give it a blue colour, as vegetable blues turn green by the process of heat employed in melting; whilst mineral or earthy blues all sink to the bottom, from superior gravity. This was the material employed in sealing public acts in England, as early as the fifteenth century. We have an anecdote of the Duke of Lancaster having no seal to ratify a deed between him and the Duke of Burgoyne, but from what appears in the attestation, which, with the instrument itself, according to the general custom of the day, runs in rhyme thus:

“I, John of Gaunt,
Doe gyve and do graunt,
To John of Burgoyne
And the heire of his loyne
Sutton and Putton
Untill the world’s rotten.”

The attestation runs thus:

“There being no seal within the roof,
In sooth, I seal it wyth my tooth.”

A good example is this of the simple brevity of the time, and a severe lecture upon the eternal repetitions of our modern lawyers, whereby the limitations and special uses of deeds are made, perhaps, not according to the necessities of the case, but are lengthened from selfish purposes.

The Great Charter, which gives an assurance of the rights of Englishmen, is sealed with white wax; as may be seen in the British Museum.

The first arms used as a seal in England, were those of the tyrannical subjugator of English rights, William, commonly called the Conqueror, and they were brought from Normandy.

Although Fenn, in his collection of original Letters of the last half of the fifteenth century, published in London, 1787, has given the size and shape of the seals, he does not apprise us of what substance they were composed. Respecting a letter of 1455, he says only, that “the seal is of red wax,” by which, it is presumed, he means common wax; and though, perhaps not equal in quality to such as is now used, yet it was made of nearly similar materials. Tavernier, in his Travels, says, that in Surat gum-lac is melted and formed into sticks, like sealing-wax. Wecker also gives directions to make an impression with calcined gypsum and a solution of gum or isinglass. Porta, likewise, knew that this might be done, and, perhaps, to greater perfection with amalgam of quicksilver.

Among the records of the Landgrave of Hesse-Cassel, are some letters of 1563, sealed with red and black wax. In the family of the Rhingrave, Philip Francis von Daun, the oldest letter sealed with wax, known in Germany, is found, of the date of August 3, 1554; it was written from London, by an agent of that family, of the name of Gerrard Herman. The colour of the wax is dark red, and very shining.

The oldest recipe known in Germany for making sealing-wax, was found by M. Von Murr, in a work by Samuel Zimmerman, citizen of Augsburg, published in 1759. The copy in the library of the university of Gottingen is signed by the author himself.--“To make hard sealing-wax, called Spanish wax, with which, if letters be sealed, they cannot be opened without breaking the seal; take beautiful clear resin, the whitest you can procure, and melt it over a slow coal fire. When it is properly melted, take it from the fire, and for every pound of resin, add two ounces of cinnabar, pounded very fine, stirring it about. Then let the whole cool, or pour it into cold water. Thus you will have beautiful red sealing-wax.

“If you are desirous of having black wax, add lamp-black to it. With smalt or azure, you may make blue: with white-lead, white; and with orpiment, yellow.

“If, instead of resin, you melt purified turpentine in a glass vessel, and give it any colour you choose, you will have a harder kind of sealing-wax, and not so brittle as the former.”

It may be remarked, that in these recipes for the fabrication of sealing-wax there is no mention of gum-lac, which is known at present as a chief ingredient in the composition of this article.

Zimmerman’s sealing-wax approaches very near to the quality of that known as _maltha_, whence we may conclude, that the manufacture of it did not originally come from the East Indies. The most ancient mention of sealing-wax occurs in a botanical work, treating of the history of aromatics and simples, by Garcia ab Horto, published at Antwerp in 1563, where the author, speaking of gum-lac says, that those sticks used for sealing letters are made of it; at which time sealing-wax was common among the Portuguese, and has since been manufactured chiefly in Holland.

M. Spiess, principal keeper of the Records at Plessenberg, says, respecting the antiquity of _Wafers_, in Germany, that the most ancient use of them he has known, occurs in a letter written by D. Krapf, at Spires, in 1624, to the government of Bayreuth.--The same authority informs us that some years after, the Brandenburg factor at Nuremberg sent such wafers to a bailiff, at Osternohe. During the whole of the seventeenth century, wafers were not used in the Chancery at Brandenburg, and only by private persons there.

Seals, it appears, from certain passages of Egyptian history, parallel with, and perhaps anterior to the Israelitish ingress, were formed or cut in emeralds, the native produce of that country. Other precious stones, metals, steel, lead, and a variety of materials, but chiefly of a hard and precious kind, have been always employed for that purpose.

BLACK-LEAD PENCILS.

The period when this semi-metallic substance was introduced, for the purpose for which it is now applied, cannot with certainty be ascertained, as no record is found of the transaction: by the common expedient of inference, however, we certainly may conclude, it was in very remote ages; for transcribers of MSS. upwards of one thousand years ago, used a substance somewhat resembling it in effect.