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1799.] Proportion of Vowels and Consonants in different Languages. 5

though it has so greatly diminished the faleable value of property erty therein purchased at a former period, contributes much to increase the income of those who invest money in these securities at present, by the great interest they make on it. Now, as the government poffeffes no revenue but what is drawn from the people, whatever it pays to one description of men, muft (principally at least) be drawn from others; and thus the additional income acquired by monied men, by taking advantage of the neceffities of the state, is, in fact, a portion of the income of their less affluent fellow citizens, which is transferred to them through the medium of the government, and which, in a much greater proportion than it increases their wealth, must render those poorer from whom it is drawn. The natural tendency of the increase of the debt is therefore evidently to produce a still greater difparity than at present subifts in the condition of the different classes of the community, by increasing the wealth of the rich, preventing the advancement of the middle class, and diminishing, or rather annihilating, the few remaining comforts of the poor.

Jan. 9, 1799.

J. J. GRELLIER.

To the Editor of the Monthly Magazine,

SIR,

IN looking into the new edition of Chambers's Cyclopædia, sometime ago, I cafually met with a remark upon a fubject, which had relation to language, wherein the Welsh and the Dutch were pointed out, as abounding more with confonants, than most, if not all of the European tongues. I well knew that fuch a statement was proverbial, as a vulgar pre. judice; but I became a little angry, at finding it had obtained a place in one of the first philofophical dictionaries of the present age; and, not being able to efface the impreffion from my mind, I had recourse to the finding a tolerably exact arithmetical certainty, as to the fallacy of fuch an observation. The method, adopted as the most eligible, was to fix upon the mean number of vowels to a hundred confonants, in different languages; and to exhibit the result in a table. As the conclufion, to be drawn from it, tends to establish a point, if not of importance, at least of fome curiosity, you may be induced, Sir, to give it infertion, in your vaJuable repository.

Proportion of Vowels and Confonants. Vowels, Confonants,

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French

English

v.

67

56

с.

85

84

The English is very variable, with respect to the proportion of vowels and confonants: that of the consonants is much greater in the scripture style, than in elegant writing, and more especially that which is scientific, from its containing more words derived from the learned languages. In the bible, the compass of the variation, in the number of vowels, is generally from about 68 to 50; but the medium may be settled at 56 to a 100 confonants. In polished writing, the medium number of vowels may be fixed at 66; and the mean between the two styles will be 61, the number inferted in the foregoing table.

The compass of variation in the Greek is confiderable. I have found 150 vowels to 100 confonants; and frequently as low as 86. The other languages are pretty clofe to the average number, giv given in the table: the Welsh seldom deviates three vowels from the mean number.

Having brought forward the above calculation, in defence of the Welsh language; and as it completely falfifies the popular opinion, I may be excused, if I should, in the moment of triumph, recount fome other excellencies, which are to be found in it. The following enumeration will give some idea of its copiousness, with refpect to the composition of words: it has feven prefixes; it has eleven terminations of verbs in the infinitive mood; fifty-four terminations of nouns: nineteen of adjectives; twenty-one plurais; and nine diminutive terminations.

This gives a total of compositive particles, greater than that of all the other languages, in the above table, if they were put together. In the Welfh they are general in their application too, of which their there is nothing fimilar in the others; but what is more than all, they are real words, either nouns or verbs, in their unconnected state; and such another example, I

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may venture to say, cannot be produced. The various inflections of verbs likewise, if feparated from the verb they characterize, are still fimple verbs, defcribing the time and action, which was meant to be conferred upon the verb to which they might have been affixed.

I have computed that there are about 8000 fimple verbs in the Welsh tongue, to each of which may be put twenty different prefixes, to give some particular character of time or action; this increases the number to 160,000; and these may be conjugated five various ways, generally by inflection, as in the learned languages, or by auxiliaries, as in the English; and this makes the real number of Weish verbs, if there were occafion for fo many, to amount to ৪০০,০০০. The ancient bards had this amazing store before them to use at pleafure; therefore those who would underfstand their works, must also have it in view.

I might proceed, by pointing out fimi. Jar instances, with regard to other kind of words; but the fubject shall be closed, for the present, with giving a lift of our ancient names of the Deity, omitting fuch as are connected with, or taken from the fcriptures, and the Chriftian religion, which we have, in common with others who call themselves Chriftians.

Bardic names of the Deity. Arglauyz, Supreme free-will; the Lord. Celi, the mystery, the one in secret. Cufwyz, the centre of free-will.

Deon, the feparate being.

Dewin, that comes, or pervades,

guage, which is a source of so much vexation in most others.

This copioufness creates almost an impoffibility of tranflating many expreffions to be met with in the Welsh language; but a great facility of rendering any thing into it; fo that I found no great difficulty of literally tranflating one of the poetical pieces, which attracted my notice, in your Magazine, and alfo preferving not only the fame number of lines, but the fame pauses, the fame length of verse, and the fame character of rhyme.

From the few facts, above offered ta your notice, Mr. Editor, you will easily perceive that it is not all empty prejudice, on the part of those, who may seem to difcover a partiality for the Welsh language. I remain, Sir, Your's, &c. MEIRION.

Jan. 1, 1799.

To the Editor of the Monthly Magazine.

SIR,

W

HILST I return you my most fincere thanks for the honourable mention you made of my Tragedy of ISABELLA in the last number but one of your Monthly Magazine, I beg leave to obferve, that the gentleman who gave you an account of it, was mittaken in calling my work a translation. Truth requires of me, therefore, to tell you, that my ISABELLA, whose death, jointly with that of Don Carlos, forms the catastrophe, is an historical subject pretty well known in the life of Philip II. of Spain. I beg you will do me the favour to infert this letter

Dovyz, the renovator; the former; the Lord, in one of your next numbers, and am with

great refpect, Your's, &c. G. POLIDORI.

Duw, that exists, the being; God.

Dwyw, that proceeds exifting.
Lilwys, the powers of harmony; the cre-

ative powers.

To the Editor of the Monthly Magazine.

Fl, harmony; intelligence, fpiritualintellect. Y

Hu,

Huon, the pervading or fubtile one.
lên, that is over, or fupreme; the Lord.
lór, that is extreme, or encompassing;
the Lord.

Náv, that is tranquil; the Father.
Nér, power, might; the Lord.
Nuz, that is not to be obfcured.
Panton, the comprehending one,
Peryu, the caufer, the creator.
Por, that circumscribes; the Lord.
Reen, the proceeding principle; the Lord.
Ri, that proceeds; that is first; the Lord.
Rwyw, that guides, or rules; the Lord.

Such a range of speech might induce farangers to exclaim, that there can be no poffibility of learning it. In answer to which I may fay, that the discouragement is removed, when they are informed, that there is not one irregular verb in the lan

SIR,

OUR truly excellent miscellany, Sir,

is my favourite monthly amusement; and that I may make you fome fmall return for the pleasure, as well as instruction, I so often receive therefrom, I fit down to give an answer to the queries of your correfpondent G. A. of Bedford, relative to the culture and use of the COLEWORT and COLESEED: at the same time, affuring both yourself and your correfpondent, that my observations are derived from real practice.

Neither the Anjou nor Jerufalem Colewort have, I believe, ever been much cultivated in this country; indeed not at all, but in the way of experiment, which has never answered the fanguine expectations of those who, many years ago, viewed the plant in perhaps the more favourable clime of France. In that country they grew to the height of feven or eight feet, and

1799.]

Culture of Colewort and Colefeed.

and are fuccefsfully given to sheep, and even horfes. The experiments with us, of both coleworts and rape as a food for cattle, have been very various, and even contradictory, upon different foils, and under different management; and although I have feen a fair crop of both, and even a large crop of the latter, without the help of manure, it has been upon rich land; and I must be bold enough, notwithstanding fome confident affertions on the favourable fide, to doubt the rational probability of any fuch good fortune upon poor, or even middling foils.

Of rape and coleworts, rape is much fuperior, in both quantity and fattening quality; it alfo may be fed off by fheep turned in at Michaelmas, which being withdrawn about Old Candlemas, and the stalks of the plants mowed even, the additional advantage of a crop of feed may be expected. In truth, the most advantageous culture of rape, is for the feed entirely. The proper application of both plants is, as feed for theep and lambs, milchcows, and store cattle. Pigs will eat them as rough victuals. I have never obferved it, but have heard of cows being hoven from eating coleseed, in the fame manner as from green clover: nor do I altogether agree as to the alledged excellence of the butter from cows fed with this article: perhaps my palate may be too nice. In feeding off these crops, particularly on poachy foils, it is infinitely better to cut and carry them to the homestead, or to a dry pasture, than to turn in the cattle.

The single object of advantage in these articles, and their fuperiority, lie in the certainty of food in March and April, when even the best and hardiest cabbages may have been totally rotted and destroyed by the feverity of the frost; else a crop of winter cabbages, producing more than double or treble the weight, and requiring neither more manure nor more expenfive culture, must be vastly preferable. To obviate all risk, a few years back, being heavy laden with stock, I divided my land proportionally between cabbages (feed from New-cross-turnpike, near London) and colefeed; the frost was not very fevere; the cabbages were all eaten, and part of the colefeed; the remainder producing a very good crop of feed at Michaelmas. Your correspondent being of Bedfordshire, I should have supposed his land would produce CARROTS; our best winter resource, and a favourite article with that illustrious and able cultivator, his Grace of Bedford.

Seed can best be procured of the London feedfinen; and, in cafe of scarce arti

7

cles, there is no doubt but an enquirer would receive polite attention at the office of the Board of Agriculture.

For the ANJOU CAPBAGE or COLEWORT, I fowed both in August and March, upon the proper tilth for cabbages in general, and with moderate dreffing; I put in BORECOLE, or SCOTCH KAIL, at the fame periods; the feed was fowed in a warm feed-bed, and the heads, or beft of the plants, as foon as fufficiently large, transplanted for good into the field, where they were conftantly hand-hoed, and earthed up, as often as neceffary: distance two feet and a half afunder. The cattle began upon them in October, and fome of them were in use in the fpring; but the quantity very light. I did not perceive any very material difference between the autumnal and spring fowing; but the French cultivators affert, that in order to get a large and valuable crop of coleworts, it is neceffary to fow as early as June in a rich feed-bed; in which cafe, they will be in perfection the following fummer, and continue of the utmost use all the enfuing winter and spring, even to May. After all, as a risk crop, I would advise the trial of them at only one foot afunder, in which method they would perhaps produce the largest quantity of eatable stuff.

COLESEED will grow upon almost any foil, tolerably manured; but fucceeds beft upon the strong, clayey and deep, with deep ploughing. The fallow ought to be stirred early in the fpring; again, eariy in April, then harrowed down and manured; cross-ploughed in May, and brought into a fine tilth by the beginning of July. With the firit shower, fow half a peck an acre; the feed is scattered with the three fingers, broad-caft, and the land lightly harrowed and rolled. In Septem-> ber, the crop is treated precifely in the stile of the turnep culture, the plants being fet out at a foot diftance, which costs three shillings per acre: in fome parts the plants may be left thicker, as a referve for others where they fail, which should be filled up in October, or the beginning of November. The best remedy against the depredations of the flugs, which are particularly fond of this plant, is a mixture of flacked lime and woce ashes; of which, ten of the former, and fifteen of the latter, fuffice an acre. When this crop is fed, the land may be ploughed early in the spring, with a profpect for a good crop of barley. Rape is, however, not deemed an ameliorating crop, but succeeds best as a follower of fuch.

When intended for feed only, the plants are cut in September, and threshed or a

floor

floor in the field, covered with a large cloth. The produce is from 3 to 6 quarters per acre. In Effex, the farmers commonly job the reaping, threshing, dreffing, making the floor, aud facking the feed, at 6d. per bushel; at which rate, the men are well paid, the crop being good. To make a good fample, the feeds ought to be large, black, and free from red or dusky ones. Should the crop be long before fale, it will require a very dry place, or the fample will lose its colour, and in course much of its price.

I have thus, Sir, answered your correfpondent's queries, somewhat at large; and should be happy at any future occafion, to render fimilar finall services to a Mifcellany, the moral and useful tendencies of which coincide entirely with the fentiments of

Your obedient, humble servant,
A PRACTICAL FARMER.

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ble you with a copy from the year 1791 to 1798 inclusive. - The Rain, as it falls, pafles through a funnel a foot square at the top, into a tin receiver in the shape of a bottle, which appears not to admit of much evaporation in the hottest seafon; one pint correfponds very near to a quarter of an inch deep from the furface; confequently 160 pints in 1796 answer to 40 inches in the whole of that year. Divide any of the months, or the whole year, by 4, and it exhibits the depth of the rain, and the vaft difference of wet and dry in the whole of each year.

It is worthy of your readers attention, that in the months of September, October and November 1794, there fell 984 pints, very little less than in the whole of the years 1791 and 1793.- Thefe heavy rains caused an high water, which inundated the lower part of this city; in many of the houses there were between 2 and 3 feet water; and boats rowed in several principal streets, to give them supplies into their upper windows. A great fnow the January following, caused a still higher water, and must, but for the liberality of the inhabitants, have been insupportable by the poor and their distressed families. Norwich, 14 Jan. 1799.

Y. Z.

92 93 94 95 96 97 98

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THE ENQUIRER, No. XVI. IN WHAT DEGREE IS THE FUTURE MELIORATION OF THE STATE OF MANKIND PROBABLE?

THAT man, who, during the course of a few late years, has not made very serious reflections on the condition and profpects of his fellow-creatures; who has not been agitated with alternate hopes and fears, and felt his wishes and expec. tations in a state of perpetual tumult and fluctuation, must either have been abforbed in stupid and selfish indifference, or must have arrived at that state of fecurity concerning all human affairs which is the highest point of philofophy. For my own part, I have been far from either of those conditions. I have most ardently fympathised in the furrounding scenes; but from the prefent view of things, I could wish that the tranquillity arifing not from indifference, but from philofophy, should succeed to the painful fufpense and uneafy apprehenfions of a mind too strongly impressed by actual events. This, too, may probably be the state of many readers of the Monthly Magazine. Let us then fee, if, by meditating on the past and present state of mankind, we can difcover any principles which may reconcile us to what we behold, and fecure us for the future against the folly and the pain of expectations never likely to be gratified. The human race has now fubfifted fome thousand years, and under all the differences of climate and external circumstances that can be supposed incident to it. With refpect to what we call civilization, likewise, it feems to have undergone all the viciffitudes of which it is capable; for this has in a great many instances been carried to a degree, which seems to have been the direct cause of its own decline. States more commercial, more military, more polished, more luxurious, than have already existed, are not likely again to appear on the theatre of the world. What then remains on which to found expectations of a new state of things, unless it be knowledge? This, in fact, is the present anchor of our hopes for a meliorated condition of mankind; it is therefore a matter of high importance to confider what that improvement in knowledge must be which is to effect this defirable change, and what are the probabilities of its taking place.

Knowledge may, in a loose way, be divided into that which is a fource of happinefs in itself, and that which is a means of producing happiness. With respect to the former, inafmuch as it contributes MONTHLY MAG. No. XL,

9

to the enjoyment of individuals by affording interesting and agreeable occupations for their leifure, and by dignifying and exalting their natures, it cannot, I fear, be made a ground of much advantage to' the great mass of mankind. For too few in society can ever possess leifure and opportunity fufficient for the purfuit, or if they have these, will prefer the pleafures of knowledge to the more obvious ones flowing from the affections and the sentes, to render advances in literature and science the fource of much substantial benefit to the world. It may be added, that as it is pursuit and progress, rather than real attainment of any precife object, which gives the pleasure in this cafe, an advanced ftate of knowledge is not more favourable than an early and immature one, to the happiness of its votaries. Whatever may be the modern improvements in phyfics and metaphyfics, the ardour, and confequently the delight, with which they are purfued, cannot now be much greater than that felt by the philosophers of antiquity.

The other fpecies of knowledge is to be regarded as a means to an end; and, from the nature of mankind, formed capable of tranfmitting the experience and discoveries of one generation to another, and thus making unlimited progress in the adaptation of the fittest means to the best ends, we may very reasonably expect an addition to the stock of general good from this source. But, in order to form fome estimate of its amount, it will be first neceffary to confider of what ingredients human happinefs is compofed, and how it lies within the power of man to add

far

to, or diminish the general fum.

There is, indeed, an opinion that many feem fond of maintaining, which, if true, would render unnecessary every confideration of this fort, and induce us to fit down in perfect apathy: this is, that good and evil are so equally balanced in all the different states and conditions of mankind, that what is gained on one fide, is loft on the other, and vice versa; fo that it can never be worth while to attempt a melioration, by which nothing can be really acquired in point of happiness. And if happiness be the true end and object of our being, it is certain that a change, which does not conduce to its augmentation, is but an idle waste of our industry. But, furely, a fair and impartial furvey of the world can never lead to fuch a conclufion. Place happiness as low as we please-let it contist in mere animal enjoyments, and that security of life and

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its

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