ther. This is commonly called the preparation & tention of the intelligent eye. We know not to what benefactor we owe the By-wheel. Sir Richard has the honour of combining this with the spindle and diftaff. To give an intelligible and accurate description of a cotton mili would require a volume. Our limits admit not of this; but we may attempt to give a brief outline of the fteps by which the wool from the bag ultimately allumes the form of a very fine thread. Bewildered by fuch a complication of machinery, all in rapid motion, very few are able to recollect the effential part of the process by which the form of the cotton is fo wonderfully changed. We pafs over the operation of CARDING, by which all the clots and inequalities of the cotton wool are re-, moved, and the whole is reduced to an uniform thin fleece, about zo inches broad. This is gradually detached from the finishing card, and is guided off from it very tenderiv, in a horizontal direction, by laying its detached end over a roller, which is flowly turned by the machine. Another roller lies above the fleece, preffing it down by its weight. By this preffure, a gentle hoid is taken of the fleece, and therefore the flow motion of the rollers draws it gently from the card at the fime rate as it is difengaged by the comb; but between the card and the rollers a set of smooth pins are placed in two rows leading from the card to the rollers, and gradually approaching each other as we approach the rolers. By thefe pins the broad fleece is hemmed in on both fides, and gradualy contracted to a thick roil; and in this ftate paffes between the rollers, and is compreffed into a pretty firm flat riband, about two inches broad, which falis off from the rollers, and piles up in deep tinplate cans fet below to receive it. It is upon this stripe or riband of cotton wool that the operation of ipinning begins. The general effect of the fpining process is to draw out this maffive rol, and to twift it as it is drawn out. But in performing this by machinery unitead of fingers, the whole riband must be drawn out together, and twitted as it is drawn. This carnot be done at once. There is not cohetion enough for this purpose. The fibres of cotton are very little impucated among each other in the roil, because the operation of carding has laid them almoft parallel; and though compreifed a little by its contraction from a fleece of 20 inches to a rit and of only 2, yet they cohere so slightly, that a few fibres may be drawn out without bringing many others along with them. For these realons, the whole thicknefs and breadth of 2 or 3 inches of the riband is ftretched to a very minute quantity, and then a very flight degree of twift is given it, viz. about 3 turns in the inch; so that it is now an extremely foft and fpongy cylinder, which cannot be called a thread, because it has fcarcely any firmnets. It is now called SLAB: before this, it was called roove. Although it be ftill extremely tender, it is much more cohefive than before, because the twift given to it makes all the longitudinal fibres bind each other together, and conprefs thofe which lie athwart. In drawing out a lingie fibre, others are drawn out along with it; and if we take hold of the whole affemblage, we may draw it to near twice its length without any rik of its separating, or becoming finaller in one part than anoVOL. XXI. PART 1. It it be juft fo long that in the finished threat a fibre will rather break thin come out from a. mong the reft, no additional length can make the. yarn any ftronger with the fame degree of com. preflion by twining. A 3d, and even a 4th, drawing is given to the slab tormed on the bobins of this ad operation. The flab produced is now a fender, but ftill extremely foft cord, fufceptible of confiderable extenfion, without risk of separation, and without the fmaliest chance of breaking a fingle tibre in the attempt. In one or more of the preparatory drawings now defcribed, 2, and fometimes 3 ilabs, of a tromer drawing, are united be fore the twilt is given them. Unless great care be taken to preferve the flih extremely loft and compreffible during the whole procels, the fubfequent drawing becomes more precarious, and we run a riik of at laft making a bad and loofe thread i 09 ftead of a uniform and fimple yarn. Such a thread will have very little lateral connection, and will not bear much handling without feparating into ftrands. The perfection of the yarn depends on having the laft fab as free of all ftrands as pofli. ble. The last operation is the spinning this ab. This hardly differs from the foregoing drawings in any thing but the twift that is given it after the lalt ftretching in its length. This is much greater than any of the preceding, being intended to give the yarn hardness and firmness, so that it will now break rather than fretch any more. Each of the operations now defcribed, by which the roove is changed into the foft flab, and each of these into one ilenderer and fomewhat firmer, by alternately teazling out and twining the foft cord, is a fubftitute for a fingie pull of the finger and thumb of the fpinfter. The roove being introduced in a ftate of perfect uniformity, and every inch treated in the fame manner, the final refult will be equa ble the yarn will be uniform. We proceed to defcribe the mechanism by which ail this is effected; at least what comes into immediate contact with the thread. Let ABC, Plate CCCXXIV. reprefent the fection of a roiler, whofe pivot D does not turn in a pivot hole, but in the bottom of a long narrow notch DE, cut in an iron ftandard. abc is the fection of another iron roiler, whofe pivot d is in the fame notches at each end, while the roller itfelf lies or refts on the roller ABC below it. The furfaces of thefe roliers are fluted lengthwife like a column; only the flutings are very small and fharp, like deep itrokes of engra ving very clofe together. If the roiler ABC be made to turn flowly round its axis by machinery, in the direction ABC (as expreted by the dart), the roughness of the flutings will take hold of the imilar roughness of the upper roller a be, and carry it round aifo in the direction of the dart, while its pivots are engaged in the notches DE, which they cannot quit. If therefore we introduce the end F of the cotton string or riband, formed by the carding machine, it will be pulled in by this motion, and will be delivered out on the other fide at H, confiderably compreffed by the weight of the upper roller, which is of iron, and is aifo preffed down by a lever which refts on its pivots, or other proper places, and is loaded with a weight. There is nothing to hinder this motion of the riband thus compreffed between the rollers, and it will therefore be drawn through from the cans. The compreffed part at H would hang down, and be piled up on the floor as it is drawn through; but it is not permitted to hang down in this manner, but is brought to another pair of sharp fluted iron roilers K and L. Suppofing this pair of rollers to be of the fame dia. meter, and to turn round in the fame time, and in the fame direction with the rollers ABC, abc; it is plain that K and L drag in the compreffed riband at 1, and would deliver it on the other fide at M, ftill more compreffed. But the roller K is made (by the wheelwork) to turn round more swiftly than ABC. The difference of velocity at the furface of the rollers is, however, very imal, feldom exceeding one part in 12 or 15. But the confequence of this difference is, that the skein of cotton HI will be Lagthened in the fame proportion; for the upper 3 rollers preffing on the under ones with a confidere able force, their fharp Autings take good hold of the cotton between them; and fince K and I take up the cotton fafter than ABC, and abe deliver it out, it must either be pulled through between the first rollers, or it must be fretched a little by the fibres flipping among each other, or it muit break. When the extention is fo very moderate, the only effect of it is merely to begin to draw the fibres into a more favourable pofition for the fubfequent extenfions. The cotton is then int odu. ced between a third pair of rollers O, P, conftiuc. ted in the fame way, but fo moved by the wheelwork that the furface of O moves nearly or fully twice as faft as the furface of K. The roiler P being alfo well loaded, they take a firm hold of the cotton, and the part between K and O is nearly or fully doubled in its length, and now requires a litthe twining to confundate it. It is therefore led floping downwards into a hoie or eye in the upper pivot of the first fly, called a jack. This turns round an upright axis or fpindle; the lower end of which has a pulley on it to give it motion by means of a band or belt, which paffes round a drum that is turned by the machinery. This jack is of a very ingenious and complicated conftruction. It is a fubftitate for the fly of the common fpinning wheel. If made precifely in the form of that fly, the thread, being fo very bulky and fpongy, and unable to bear ciofe packing on the bobin, would fwag out by the whiring of the fly, and would never coil up. The bobin therefore is made to lie horizontally; and this occations the complication, by the difficulty of giving it a motion round a horizontal axis, in order to coil up the twifred roove. Sir Richard has accomplished this in a very ingenious manner. A is a roller of hard wood, having its furface cut into fharp Autes longitudinally. On the axis, which projects through the fide of the general frame, there is a pulley P, connected by a band with another pulley Q, turning with the horizontal axis QR. This axis turns by a contrivance which is different in every different cotton mill. The fimpleft of all 1s to place above the pulley C (which is turned by the great band of the machinery, and thus gives motion to the jack), a thin circular dife D, loose upon the axis, fo as to turn round on it without obftruction. If this difc exceed the pulley in breadth about one roth of an inch, the broad belt which turns the pulley will alfo turn it; but as its diameter is greater than that of the pulley, it will turn fomewhat flower, and will therefore have a relative motion with refpect to the axis QR. This can be employed, to give that axis a very flow motion, fuch as one turn of it for 20 or 30 of the jack. The bobin B, on which the roove is to be coiled up, lies on this roller, its pivots pafling through upright flits in the fides of the general frame. It hes on A, and is moved round by it. The fluted furface of A, by turning flowly round, and carrying the weight of the bobin, comprefies a little the cotton that is between them; and its flutings, being sharp, take a flight hold of it, and cause it to turn round aifo, and thus coil up the roove, pulling it in through the hole E in the upper pivot in fo gentle a manner as to yield whenever the motion of the bobin is too great for the speed with which the cotton kein is discharged by the rollers O and P. The ans QR below alfo gives motion to a guide with in the jack, which leads the roove gradually from one end of the bobin to the other, and back again, fo as to coll it with regularity till the bobin is full. The whole of this internal mechanifm of the jack is commonly fhut up in a tin cylinder. This is particuvarly neceflary when the whiring motion must be rapid, as in the 2d and 3d drawings. Such is the ingenious mechanifi fitted to prepare a flab that is uniform, foft, and ftill very extenfibie; in thort, fit for undergoing the aft treat ment, by which it is made a fine and firin yarn. As this part of the process differs from each of the former, merely by the degree of twift that is given to the yarn, and as this is given by a fly, not materially different from that of the fpinning wheel for fix, we need add nothing farther about it. The intelligent reader must be fenfible that the yarn produced in this way must be exceedingly uniform. The uniformity really produced even exceeds all expectation; for even although there be fome small inequalities in the carded fleece, yet if there are not matted ciots, which the card could not equalife, and only confift of a little more thickness of cotton in fome places than in others, when fuch a piece of the ftripe comes to the first rolier, it will be stretched; it will be rather more Stretched by the fecond, and again by the bobin, after the firft very flight twining. That this may be done with greater certainty, the weights of the firft rooving rollers are made very fmail, fo that the middle part of the skein can be drawn through, while the outer parts remain fast held. A pound of the finest Bourbon cotton has been thus ipun into a yarn extending a few yards beyond 119 miles! (3.) SPINNING WHEEL. n. f. [from spin.] The wheel by which, fince the difufe of the rock, the thread is drawn. My Spinning wheel and rake, Let Sufan keep for her dear fifter's fake. Gay. SPINNY adj. I suppose small, flender. A barbarous word. Then there will come fome Spinny grafs that will keep it from fcalding. Mort. SPINOSITY. n. S. [spinosus, Lat.] Crabbed nefs; thorny or briary perplexity.-Philofophy confifted of nought but dry fpinofities. Glan. SPINOSUM FOLIUM, a spinous leaf, indicates the margin running out into rigid points or prickles, quad margine exit in acumina duriora, rigida, pun gentia. SPINOSUS CAULIS. See BOTANY, Gloffary. (1.) * SPINOUS. adj. [fpinofus, Lat.] Thorny; full of thorns. (2.) SPINOUS, in botany. See SPINOSUS. (3.) SPINOUS FISHES, fuch as bave fome of the rays of the back fins running out into thorns or prickles, as the perch, &c. SPINOZA, Benedict, was born at Amfter dam the 24th November 1632. His father was a Jew of Portugal, by profeffion a merchant. After being taught Latin by a physician, he ftudied theology, and afterwards devoted himself to philofophy. He began very early to be diffatisfied with the Jewish religion; and as his temper was open, he did not conceal his doubts from the fynagogue. The Jews, it is faid, offered to tolerate his infidelity, and even promifed him a penfion of 1000 dollars a year, if he would remain in their fociety, and continue outwardly to practife their ceremonies. But if this offer was really made, he rejected it, from his averfion to hypocrify, or because he could not endure the restraint which it would have impofed. He alfo refused the legacy of a very confiderable fortune, to the prejudice of the natural heirs; and he learned the art of polishing glafs for spectacles, that he might fublilt independently of every one. An accident haftened his leaving the fynagogue. As he was returning home one evening from the theatre, he was Rabbed by a Jew: the wound was flight; but the attempt led Spinoza to conclude that the Jews had formed the defign of affalinating him. He then became a Chriftian, and frequented the churches of the Lutherans and Calvinifts. He now devoted himself more than ever to his philo fophical fpeculations; and being often interrupted by his friends, he left Amfterdam, and fettled at the Hague, where he fometimes continued for months together without ever ftirring from his lodging. His Tractatus Theologico-politicus was published about this time, a book containing all thofe doctrines in embryo, which were afterwards unfolded in his Opera Pofthuma, and which are geperally confidered as a fyftem of atheism. His fame, which had now spread far and wide obliged him fometimes to interrupt his philofophical reveries. Learned men visited him from all quar ters. While the prince of Condé commanded the French army in Utrecht, he intreated Spinoza to vifit him; and though he was ablent when the philofopher arrived, he returned immediately, and fpent a confiderable time with him. elector Palatine offered to make Spinoza profeffor of philofophy at Heidelberg; but this he declined. He died of a confumption at the Hague on the 21st Feb. 1677, aged 45. His life was a perpetual contradiction to his opinions. He was temperate, liberal, and remarkably difinterested; he was focial, affable, and friendly. His converfation was agreeable and inftructive, and never deviated from the ftriéteft propriety. In the Tractatus Theologico politicus, he treats of prophecy and prophets; and of the call of the Hebrews, whom he affirms to have been distinguished from other nations only by the admirable form of their government. He is likewife of opinion, or pretends to be fo, that God may, in a fupernatural way, have given political institutes to other nations as well as to the Hebrews. For, according to him, every nation was bleffed with the light of prophecy. That light indeed, if his notions of it be juft, was of very little value. He labours to prove, that the prophets were distinguished from other men only by their piety and virtue; and that their writings are valuable to us only for the excellent rules they contain refpecting piety and virtue. He then endeavours to prove that no miracle, in the proper fenfe of the word, can have been at any time performed; because every thing happens by a neceffity of nature, the refult of the divine decrees, which are from all eternity necef The fary themfelves. He acknowledges, that in the Scriptures, which he profeties to admit as true history, miracks are often mentioned; but he fays that they were only fingular events which the facred hiftorians imegin d to be miraculous. (See our andeles MIPACLE, PAUL, N° 1. and PROPHECY.) He afhrms, in contradiction to the clearest internal evidence, that the Pentatench and all the other historical books must have been written by one man; and that man, he thinks, was EZRA. The grounds of this opinion are unworthy of the talents of Spinoza. His principal obFection to the authenticity of the Pentateuch 15, that Mofes is made to speak of himicif in the third person, the very fame childish objection fince repeated by Thomas Paine, whole ignorance may fomewhat excufe him, but Spinoza furely could read the Commentaries of Cefar, in the or ginal, who speaks of himfelt modeftly in the 3d person throughout all his writings. He alfo obfects to the expreffion of the Canaanites being then in the land. These fenieless cavils, worthy enly of one of those modern freethinkers whofe learning, in the opinion of Bishop Warburton, is not fufficient to carry them even to the confines of rational doubt, we have fufficiently obviated in another place (fee SCRIPTURE, Se&. I.-IV) In the mid of this dogmatical feepticifm, he bears fuch a teftimony to the laft chapters of the book of Damel, as we fhould not have looked for in the writings either of a Jew or of a Deift. After detailing the various hypothefes refpecting the an hot and the intention of the book of Job; in which, he fays, Momus is called SATAN, be proceeds in thefe words; "Tranfeo ad Danielis librum; hic fine dubio ex cap. 8. ipfius Danielis fcripta continet, fodenam autem priora feptem capita dekripta fuerint, nefcio," thus admitting the famous prophecy of the seventy weeks. That fo paradoxical a writer, who had been originally a few, and was now alm: ft a Deift, Ihould have treated the New Teftament with as little ceremo ny as the Old, will not furprife the intelligent reader. He begins his remarks, however, with affirming, that no man can peruse the Christian Scriptures, and not acknowledge the apoftles to have been prophets; but he thinks that their mode of prophefying was altogether different from that which prevailed under the Mofaic difperla. tion; and that the gift, whatever it was, forfook them the instant that they left off preaching, as heir writings have to him every appearance of human compofitions. This distinction between Chriftian and Jewish prophecy is the more wonderful, that he founds it principally on the diflimiJarity of Ayle viable in the writings of the Old and New Teftaments. Taking our leave of his Trac tatus Theologico-politicus, we shall now give our readers a short account of his Opera' Pofthuma. These confift of, 1. ETHICA, more geometrico de mon/rata: 2. POLITICA; 3. DE EMENDATIONE INTELLECTUS; 4. EPISTOLU, et ad eas RESPONSIONES; 5. COMPENDIUM GRAMMATICES LINGUÆ HEER.EE. The ETHICA are divided into five parts, which treat in order, de DɛO; de natura et origine MENTIS; de origine et natura AFFECTUUM; de SERVITUTE humana, feu de F EECTUUM VIRIBUS; de POTENTIA INTELLEC rus, feu de LIBERTATE humana. As the author profeffes to tread in the footsteps of the geome ters, and to deduce all his conclufions by rigid demonftrati, n from a few felf-evident truths, he in reduces his work, after the manner of Euclid, with a collection of definitions and axioms. Thete are couched in terms generally ambiguous. His definition of fubftance, for inftance, is to expreffed as to admit of two fenfes; in one of which it is juft, whilft in the other it is the parent of the moft impious abfurdity. "Per fubftantiam intelligo id, quod in fe eft, et per fe concipitur: hoe eft id, cujus conceptus non indiet conceptu alterius rei, a quo formari debeat." If by this be meant, that a substance is that which we can conceive by itfelf without attending to any thing elfe, or thinking of its formation, the definition, we believe will be admitted by every reflecting mind as fufhciently distinguishing the thing defined from an attribute, which, he fays, is that which we perceive of a substance, and which we certainly cannot conceive as exifting by ittelf. Thus the writer of this article can fhut his eyes and contemplate in i ea the finali 4to volume now before him, without attending to any thing elfe, or thinking of its paradoxical author, or even of the GREAT BEING who created the matter both of him and of it; but he cannot for an iftant comtemplate the yellow colour of its vellum boar's without thinking of triple extention, or, in other words, of body. The book therefore is a fubstance, because conceivable by itself; the colour is ar attribute or quality, becaule it cannot be conccived by felt, but neceffarily leads to the con• ception of fomething elfe. But if Spinoza's mean. ing be, that nothing is a fubftance but what is conceived, as existing from eternity, independent of every thing as a caufe, his definition cannot be admitted; for every man conceives that which in himself thinks, and wills, and is confcious, as a fubfiance; at the fame time that he has the best evidence poflible that he exited not as a confcious thinking, and active being, from eternity. His 4th axiom is thus expressed: “ Effectus cognitió a cognitione caufæ dependet, et candem in volvit ;" and his gth, "Quæ nihil commune cum fe invicem babent, etiam per fe invicem inteihgi non poffint, five conceptus unius alterius conceptum non involvit." The former of these propofitions, fo far from being felf-evident, is not even true; and the latter is capable of two ferfes very different from each other. That every effect proceeds from a cause, is indeed an axiom; but turely we may know the effect accurately, though we be ignorant of the particular caule from which it proceeds; (ft PHILOSOPHY, Part 1. Se&. II. and PHYSICS, Sec. III, and XI.); nor does the knowledee of the one by any means involve the knowledge of the other. If different things have nothing in common, it is indeed true that the know, hdge of one of them will not give us an adequate conception of the other; but it will in many cates compel us to believe, that the other exifs or has exifted. A parcel of gunpowder lying at reft has nothing in common with the velocity of a cannonbail; yet when we know that a bali has been driven with velocity from a cannon, we infer with certainty that there has been a parcel of powder at SPINOZIST, n.. a follower of SPINOZA; an Atheist, a materialift; one who confounds matter and ipirit, and fuppofes the Deity and the vifible" univerfe to be one and the fame. Such an opinion is entertained by the celcbrated French philofopher, M. De La Metheric. - See PHYSICS, Se&t." III. * SPINSTER. 2. f. [from spin.] 1. A woman that fpins. The fpinfiers and the knitters in the fun, Do ufe to chant it. Nor the divifion of a battle knows Shak. Shak.* 2. [In law. The general term for a girl or maid- * SPINSTRY. #. [. [from spinfer.] The work. of spinning. SPINTURNIX, in fabulous hiftery, a bird, or rather a quadruped with wives, which was faid fometimes to attend the fcrifices, and carry away a live coal from the altar; which was reckoned an omen of ill lick. Pliny. It would haveˆ been more natural for fuch a monster to have carrid off the facrifice. * SPINY. adj. [Spina, Lat.] Thorny; briary; perplexed; dificult; troublefome. The first attempts are always imperfect; much more in fo difficult and /ping an aflair. Digly, at rel in the chamber of that cannon, before it was fired. It is upon fuch ambiguous definitions and axioms as thefe that Spinoza has raifed his pretended demonftrations, that one fubftance car. not produce another; that every fubftance muft neceifarily be infinite; that no fubftance exifts or can be conceived befides God; and that extended fubftance or body is one of the infinite attributes of God. We thall not wafte time with a formal confutation of thefe impious abfurdities. They are folliciently confuted in other articles of this work; (ice METAPHYSICS, Se&. XXXV. and THEOLOGY, Part. I.) and whoever withes for a more particular examination of the author's principles, may find it in Dr Clarke's Demonftration of the Being and Attributes of God. According to Spinoza bodies are either attributes or affections of God; and as he fays there is but one extended Tublance, he affirms that fubftance to be indivibie. He attempts to prove that God is an extended as well as a thinking sublance; that as a thinking fubitance he is the caufe of the idea of a Ciele, and as an extended fubitance of the circle iffen; that the minds of men are not fubftances, but certain modifications of the divine attributes. And, that thinking and extended substances are in reality but one and the fame fubllance, which is fonetimes comprehended under one attribute of the Deity, and fometimes under another. If this impious jargon be not ATHEISM, or as it has been fometimes called Pantheilm, we know not what it is. (See PANTHEISM According to Spinoza, there is but one fubitance, which is cxtended, infinite, and indivifible. That fubftance indeed be calis God; but he labours to prove that It is corporeal; that there is no difference between mind and matter; that both are attributes of the Deity varioully confidered; that the human foul is a part of the intelle&t of God; that the same foul is nothing but the idea of the human body; that this idea of the body, and the body itself, are one and the fame thing; that God could not ex-ingly averfe to this measure, but, at the prefling, itt, or be conceived, were the vifible universe annulated; and therefore that the visible univerfe is either the one fubitance, or at leaft an eflential attribute or modification of that fubftance. According to him, nothing but the prejudices of education could have led men to fancy that there is any real diftinction between good and evil, merit and demerit, p aife and reproach, order and conjuon; that eyes were given that the owners might ee; that the Sun was formed to give light, &c. If this be true, it is impoffible to discover wildom in the operations of his one fubflance; fince it is the very characteristic of tolly to act without any end in view. His Compendium Grammatites Lingue Hebræa, though left imperfect, appears to have fo much merit, that it is to be wished he had fuifilled his intention of writing a philofophical grammar of that language, inítead of wasting his Time on abftrufe fpeculations, which, though they feem not to have been injurious to his own virtue, are certainly not calculated to promote the virtue of others, or to increate the fum of human happiness. > SPIRA, Francis, an eminet Italian lawyer, who' flourished with great reputation in the beginning of the 16th century, at Citadella in the Venetian, States. He had imbibed the principles of the Refor mation, and was accused of herefy, before John” De La Cafa, Abp. of Benevento, the pope's nuncio at Verice. He made fome conceflions, and afked pardon for his errors; but the nuncio in-s fifted on a public recantation. Spira was exceed. istreaties of his wife and his friends, he at last com-: plied. But he would have futlered much lefs torture at the ftake, had he had the courage to have avowed his faith and died a martyr, than he did afterwards by the remorfe he felt, and the dreadful flate of melancholy he fell into. By the advice of phyficians and divines he was removed to Padua, but no change of place, medicine, regimen, or confolatory advice, could afford any relief to his wounded conscience. He thought himfelf certain of eternai damnation, and refused all the confolation that could be fuggefted. He fometimes even imagined that he already felt the, torments of the damned. His melancholy cafe, in which he long lingered, and to which at last her fell a victim in 1548, made a great noife throughout Europe. The celebrated Henry Scrimzeor is faid to have written an account of it with his life. (See SCRIMZEOR, N° 2.) We have feen a small work giving an account of his cafe in English, probably an extract or tranflation from Scrimze or; but of all the books that ever were printed, it would be the most dangerous to be put into the hands of a perfon inclined to melancholy. Collier's Dict. Art. SPIRA. See ↑ SPI |