ページの画像
PDF
ePub

object, and the part which is to enjoy is farthest advanced in like manner, in movements of aversion, the body avoids the object which inspires it, and the part most threatened, and most suffering, is always first withdrawn.

If the cause of the aversion occupies a determinate place, aversion in clines to fly from that place: if it is not perfectly determined, the man feels uncertainty, and the desire of knowing the proximity, the qualities, the greatness of the evil, is united with that of self-preservation. If the evil appears not incapable of being removed, a second desire excites to repel it, and to exert all our strength to guard against it.

The first of these desires has much share in the expression of terror; it makes the eyes be considerably opened, to know better the object with which we are threatened. The second is manifested as long as fear, not having entirely subjugated the man, leaves some activity to his muscles. It is observed, above all, when obstacles oppose his flight, or when the danger is too near to allow him the hope of avoiding it.

Terror seems, at least in certain cases, to be composed of astonishment, of fear, and of anger. Fear causes us to draw back, and discolours the cheek: astonishment makes us remain a moment immoveable in the same atsitude; both make us open wide our eyes and mouth: anger finally makes us present our arms impetuously to the danger.

But this last gesture does not always take place: when danger appears suddenly, and with a superior force, the arms, instead of seeking to repel it, are raised, as if to demand succour from on high.

When a man hears bad news, or the relation of any atrocity, he throws back his body, as if the object painted to his imagination were present, and he wished to escape from it. A her

rible project, which a man himself. forms, may make him recoil with terror, when he is not yet familiarized with what is dreadful in it.

Many may have observed, that it is a natural movement to recoil, when any thing incredible is related. Is this because error, being an evil to the mind, is fled from as a frightful object as soon as it is known.

A very strong surprise, even when it is agreeable, has something which borders on terror. Thus, at the first sight of a friend, whom we believed either dead, or in a distant country, the first movement is to draw back; the eyes are opened wider than ordinary, as if to assure ourselves that it is really he frequently, however, the arms advance to embrace the object, at the very time that the body retires; and whilst the expression of the eyes resembles that of terror, the mouth smiles, and joy is pictured on it.

Anger gives strength to all the exterior parts of the body; but it arms principally those which are fitted to attack, to seize, to destroy. Swollen by the blood and the humours, which rush thither abundantly, they are agitated with a convulsive movement; the hands, by violent contractions; and the teeth, by horrible gnashings, manifest a species of inward tumult. Thus the furious boar seems to sharpen his tusks; the bull tears the earth with his horns, and throws into the air whirlwinds of dust. The veins are swollen, particularly round the neck, temples, and forehead; the whole countenance is inflamed by the superabundance of blood which rushes into it, but this livid or purple redness bears no resemblance to the cachanting colouring of love; all the movements are violent, impetuous; the step is heavy and irregular.

If the chagrin, caused by an insult, prevails over the impetuous desire of vengeance, the blood returns to the heart, the fire of the eyes is extin

guishedy

[ocr errors]

guished, a sudden paleness covers the countenance, the arms hang along the body without strength or motion. It is possible also, that the unexpected offence may cause the emotion of surprise, and give a paleness resembling that of terror.

Anger, in its utmost violence, renders man so hideous; it is so contrary. to the beautiful nature, which is the object of the artist's imitation, that he ought to avoid representing it, unless his subject absolutely obliges him; but he will scarcely ever find himself under this necessity, if he is judicious in his choice of subjects, and in that of the details.

We have spoken of affecting surprise, the expression of agreeable surprise is very different. Man, struck with unexpected joy, suffices not to himself; he seeks to diffuse his existence over all that surrounds him. He loves his present mode of being to such a degree, that he loves whatever exists: he embraces with transport his friend, his enemy, his servant, a stranger. Is it a letter which causes his joy? He kisses it, as in anger he would tear and trample it under foot. Tears unite in the expression of great joy; but while the eyes weep, the mouth smiles.

If a man's joy is excited by satisfaction in his personal qualities, the expression varies, according to the difference of the qualities which cause that satisfaction. Is his joy founded on the graces of his person? He seeks to unfold these graces, he contemplates them, he has the smile of folly. Is it upon the dexterous means which he has employed to attain his end? A fugitive smile will appear in his cheeks, and around his lips; his contracted eye will acquire greater fire: if the deceived person is present, he will point him out privately with his finger, and to render the confident of his stratagem more attentive to admire it, he will tap him gently on the back.

this inward contentment, founded

on the superiority of his wit, his talents? He measures, by his bodily height, his relations with those to whom he believes himself superior; he raises his head with pride, and all

his manner becomes the more cold and measured, according as the sentiment of his own merit causes him more satisfaction. Does his pride rest on birth, on rank, on fortune, or any of those qualities, the enjoyment of which depends upon the effect which they produce on others. Then the tranquil and concentrated deportment of genuine pride, degenerates into ostentation and vanity: he seems to seck to make a noise in order that he may be remarked. Thus great movements are made, the legs are thrown separate in order to occupy more space, the gestures are free and vehement, the arms are readily thrown out from the body, as they approach it in modesty; the head throws itself back.

Does the man, who reflects, who, composes, congratulate himself on a pleasing idea? He strokes his chin, smiling has he a lively idea? he strikes his brow: has he one that was difficult to find? he rubs his hand, he strikes on the table. In all these expressions, gaiety animates his countenance, his head is elevated by pride.

A sentiment contrary to that of pride, is veneration. In the presence of the object which inspires it, not only the muscles of the eyebrows, the mouth, and the cheeks, become less firm, and sunk down; it is the same with the whole body, particularly the head, the arms, and the knees. When the Orientals lay their arms across the breast, while they incline their body, doubtless their intention is, by this gesture, to mark the depth of the sentiment with which they are affected: by pressing strongly the arms against the body, they wish to dissipate the fear which, as well as shame, is always closely connected with veneration. The reason may be easily found, for

when

[blocks in formation]

From Singers's Survey of Dumfries-shire. SLEECH, as it is provincially cal. led, is a kind of alluvial soil, frequently found on the sea-shore, and in rivers washed by the tide, and seems to be a composition of clay and sand, with marine exuviae: it is sufficiently loose and porous to imbibe the sea water without decomposition, and hence, on the flowing of the tide, it becomes saturated with a solution of salt. The heat of the sun in the warm days of summer evaporating the moisture, leaves on the surface of the sleech, thus impregnated, the saline particles visible to the eye, like a slight powdering of snow, or of hoar frost. When this appearance takes place the salt-maker begins his labours. His first care is to collect the sleech proper for his purpose; this he effects by means of an implement named a hap, a kind of sledge-drag, furnished with a sharp edge at that part which touches the ground, and drawn by a single horse. By this operation the whole salt-bed, as it is technically called, is deprived of its surface to the depth of about the eighth part of an inch; and the impregnated sleech, thus scraped together, is afterwards carried in carts to a station on the beach, near the salt-cot, where it is put up in a large heap ready for use. A pit is next prepared, about 18 feet long, 4 feet broad,

and 2 feet deep, which is lined with clay, that it may be impervious to water. In the bottom of this pit is placed a layer of peats, which is covered over with thin turfs, and above these the pit is filled with the collected sleech; the surface of which is laid perfectly horizontal, except at the edges, where it is somewhat elevated to form a kind of bason. This

bason is now filled with water, either salt or fresh, as circumstances admit, which, covering the whole surface, gradually pervades the mass, and ooz ing through the filter of turf, carries with it in its passage the solution of salt. Having reached the clayed bottom, it finds channels formed for it in every direction by the peats, and, running along the clay, it issues from a spout into a reservoir of wood*, whence it is carried in pails to the salt-pans. These pans, which are made of sheet iron +, are placed on bricks about 20 inches from the ground, in such a manner as to admit a fire of peats beneath them. This is usually done in a very slovenly and inartificial way, so as to occasion much waste of heat, and of course to make the expense of fuel greater than is necessary. The pans are commonly about 4 feet long, 3 feet broad, and 5 inches deep. After boiling six hours the water is completely evaporated, and about four stones of salt are drawn from each pan.

This mode of manufacturing salt is very laborious, and there are some circumstances which preclude the possibility of its ever being carried on to a great extent. In the first place, the salt-beds are limited in point of

size,

The strength of the brine is tried from

time to time by floating an egg. When three-quarters of the egg are found to be covered by the brime, the filtering is stopped.

+Till within these ten or twelve years these pans were made of lead, but sheet iron is found to answer better.

size, being confined to a narrow stripe of a few miles, lying between Lockerwood, in the parish of Ruthwell, and Priestside, in the parish of Cumbertrees and within these bounds, only small spots here and there are proper for the purpose of salt-making. In the next place, the operation depends so entirely on the state of the weather, that when the season proves rainy or lowering, no sleech worth filtering can be procured. It seldom happens that the salt-beds are in a proper state for scraping with the hap till the middle of June, and even then this operation can only be carried on when the tides are low, and in the afternoons of bright sunny weather. Hence the average of days in which properly impregnated sleech can be gathered is not more than twelve of fourteen, and only a few hours can be occupied in this process each day. Indeed it sometimes happens, that nearly a whole season passes without furnishing a single favourable hour. From this statement it appears obvious, that the manufacture of salt from sleech is too limited and precarious an employment to be depended on as the means of subsistence, and it is, therefore, considered merely as subsidiary to other occupations of more certain profit. All the Annandale salt-makers possess farms, generally of small extent, which they cultivate as their proper employment, and to these the liberty of making salt is merely an appendage, from which the landlord reaps no benefit. In the parish of Cumbertrees the salt-makers possess pendicles, consisting only of twenty or thirty acres of arable ground. These are situated on a narrow stripe of land, bounded on one side by the sea, and on the other by an extensive peat-moss. The manner in which the inhabitants of this barren spot contrive to gain a hard-earned subsistence is peculiar to themselves, and exc usively adapted to their situation. Each tenant keeps a pair of horses,

with which he is enabled, during the summer months, to cultivate his small patch of ground, to collect the impregnated sleech, and to lead home the peats necessary for the family fire, and for evaporating the brine. Besides this threefold employment on the shore, in the peat-moss, and in the field, which affords sufficient occupation for one half of the year, these people find useful labour for their horses in winter by carrying peats for sale to the neighbouring burgh of Annan, and by leading to such pieces of moss-land as they judge best adapted for cultivation, the sleech from which they have previously filtered the salt, and which they have found by experience to produce an excellent effect on that kind of soil. In this manner nearly twenty poor families are subsisted by combining occupations, any one of which would have been inadequate to their support. In the parish of Ruthwell, the business is in the hands of more substantial farmers, and the sandbeds are of a better quality, on which account it is conducted on a scale somewhat more extensive. In the two parishes nearly forty salt - pans are employed; but were we, from this circumstance, to form an estimate of the extent to which the manufacture is carried, we should be led to a very erroneous conclusion. The circumstances already mentioned will be sufficient to convince any person of the truth of this observation, whilst they shew the dif ficulty of arriving at any accurate knowledge of the average quantity of salt annually manufactured in that district.

The Annandale salt is of such inferior quality, that it is sold at half the price of common salt. This proceeds partly, if not wholly, from the slovenly manner in which the manufacture is performed. The filter of turf and peat, universally employed, pollutes and discolours the brine, and communicates a blackish tinge to the

salt

[blocks in formation]

ence with the Annan. From thence it gradually advanced by the farm of Dyke, and ascended the ridge of Lochhouse, and thence to the pass at the top of Arickstanebrae, advancing to Newton in Lanarkshire. The other line of road passed westward, after crossing the Annan above the confluence of the Dryfe, and proceeded by Annisfield-house, Duncow, and Dalswinton, advanced up the river Nith, on the east side by Thornhill, crossed the water of Carron, and then turned away to the north, entering the narrow pass or defile in the mountains above Durresdeer, called the

Roman Roads passing through DUM- Wellpath, and going down Powtrail

FRIES-SHIRE.

(From the Same.)

TWO lines of road appear to have

opened North Britain to the Romans from South Britain. The western road passed through Carlisle, and intersected the county of Dumfries. At Longtown, in Cumberland, it sent off a branch by Netherby to Liddel Moat; and this branch, after crossing the Liddel, proceeded along the river Esk, on the eastern side, to Castle O'er and Raeburn-foot, in EskdaleMuir. The principal road crossed the river Esk at Longtown church, and the Sark at Borrowslacks, advancing by the west of Burranswork hill, and passing the river Milk at the drove ford, between Scroggs and the bridge, and proceeded by Lockerbie and Torwood-Muir, across the Dryfe, a little way above its confluence with the Annan: here this road appears to have divided, sending up one arm through Annandale northward, and another westward into Nithsdale. Advancing upward along the east side of the river Annan, the main line passed by Dinwoodie Green and Girth Head; crossed Wamphray water, and proceeded northwards to Burnfoot, across the Annan to the Roman entrenchments at Tassiesholm, and thence across Evan, above its conflu

water on the left side, to its confluence with the Daer. On the west of the Daer-water it then proceeded on to Elvanfoot, where the Daer falls into the Clyde; and thence by Crawford village, across the Clyde to Castle of Crawford, where it met the branch that had proceeded up Annandale.

Several remarkable stations occur in these lines of the great western road, and some inferior side branches are connected with them. One of these diverges from the road leading to the Nith, and passes to the right from it through Kirkmichael, where the minister's garden seems to have been a small station: another turns off to the west from the Nithsdale road, crossing the Nith, and passing through Tynron by Scar-water. The most remarkable stations are those of Burrans work, of Castle O'er and Raeburnfoot, together with Agricola's camp on the Torwood Muir, by Lockerbie. The late Sir John Clerk was at great pains in tracing these lines, and to him the public are indebted for the discovery and description of some Roman stations and antiquities found by them. For the descriptions of them, one may consult his papers, the Statistical volumes, and the Military Antiquities of the Romans in this Country, by the late Major-General Roy.

The

« 前へ次へ »