up

and conveyed into the blood, and the dregs must be thrown off. With this view, the INTESTINAL CANAL is actually given. It separates the nutritious part, which we call CHYLE, to be conveyed into the blood by the system of the ABSORBENT VESSELS; and the feces pass downward out of the body. Thus we see that, by the very imperfect survey which human reason is able to take of this subject, the animal man must necessarily be complex in his corporeal system, and in its operations; and in taking this general view of what would appear, á priori, to be neά cessary for adapting an animal to the situations of life, we observe, with great satisfaction, that man is accordingly made of such systems, and for such purposes. He has them all; and he has nothing more, except the organs of respiration. Breathing it seemed difficult to account for á priori: we only know it to be a fact, essentially necessary to life. Notwithstanding this, when we saw all the other parts of the body, and their functions so well ac. counted for, and so wisely adapted to their several purposes, there would be no doubt that respiration was so likewise: and accordingly, the discoveries of doctor Priestley have lately thrown light upon this function also.

"Of all the different systems in the human body the use and necessity are not more apparent, than the wisdom and contrivance which have been exerted in putting them all into the most compact and convenient form in disposing them so that they shall mutually receive and give helps from one another; and that all, or many, of the parts shall not only answer their principal end or purpose, but operate successfully and usefully in a variety of secondary

ways. If we consider the whole animal machine in this light, and compare it with any, in which human art has exerted its utmost skill (suppose the best-constructed ship that ever was built), we shall be convinced, beyond the possibility of doubt, that there exists intelligence and power far surpassing? what human art can boast of. One superiority in the animal machine is peculiarly striking. In machines of human contrivance, or of art, there is no internal power, no principle in the thing itself, by which it can alter and accommodate itself to any injury that it may suffer, or make up any injury that admits of repair: but in the natural machine, or animal body, this is most wonderfully provided for by the internal powers of the machine itself; many of which are not more certain and obvious in their effects, than they are above all human comprehension as to the manner and means of their operation. Thus, a wound heals up of itself; a broken bone is made firm again by a callus; a dead part is sepa rated and thrown off; noxious juices are driven out by some of the emunctories; a redundancy is removed by some spontaneous bleeding; a bleeding naturally stops of itself; and a great loss of blood, from any cause, is in some measure compensated by a contracting power in the muscular system, which accommodates the capacity of the vessel to the quantity contained. The stomach gives information when the supplies have been expended, represents with great exactness the quantity and quality of what is wanted in the present state of the machine, and in proportion as she meets with neglect rises in her demand, urges her petition in a louder tone, and with more forcible arguments. For its

protection, an animal body resists heat and cold in a very wonderful manner, and preserves an equal temperature in a burning and in a freezing atmosphere. These are powers which mock all human invention or imitation: they are characteristics of the divine architect!"

ANATHEMA, among ecclesiastical writers, imports whatever is set apart, separated or divided; but the word is most usually intended to express the cutting off a person from the privileges of society, and from communion with the faithful. The anathema dif- ' fers from simple excommunication, in as much as the former is attended with curses and execrations. ANCIENT, OLD, ANTIQUE, are words that express age, in different degrees. A fashion is old when it ceases to be used; ancient when it has been long out of use; and antique when it has been long ancient. Young is opposed to old; new to ancient; and modern to antique. A man is said to be old, a family ancient, a statue or other monument antique. Old implies decrepid; ancient, immemorial; antique, remote. Old age diminishes the powers of the body, and enlarges the extent of the mind; ancientness takes away the beauty of garments, and gives authority to titles; antiquity weakens the evidence of history, and gives value to monuments. The epochs beyond which it is now generally agreed to call men and their works ancient, is that of the taking of Constantinople by Mahomet II. which event happened A. D. 1453. It was then that Europe began to re-emerge from barbarism, Tuscany opened her arms to men of genius in arts and literature, who took refuge in her bosom from the general storm.

ANCIENT LANGUAGES.

Much has been said, and

much may always be said, for and against the study of what are called the dead languages; such as Hebrew, Greek, and Latin, which are now only to be met with in books. A liberal man will, perhaps, wholly join with neither the one disputant nor the other. In all cases, those who give their thoughts to the past, to the neglect of the present, are to be blamed. If history is interesting, if antiquities, the documents of history, are interesting, then ancient languages must be interesting also.

ANCIENT LEARNING. Interested as we are in the history of man, we cannot be indifferent to those writings which have come down to us from ancient times. If we are unacquainted with ancient learning, we can scarcely avoid error in our estimate of its value: we shall probably reverence it too much or too little. Certainly, neither ancient learning, nor any thing else that is ancient, is essential to the education of a good member of society; but it is very essential to taste, without a certain mixture of which, all the ingredients of society must soon become vitiated. While on the one hand, however, it does not appear rational to join with those who would banish an inquiry into ancient learning from among the number of human studies, it is on the other most undoubtedly true, that the attainments of the ancients are frequently over-rated. We have availed ourselves of their discoveries, we have perceived many of their mistakes; and though we may have lost part of their lessons, and committed new errors of our own, still it is absurd to suppose that we have not surpassed them.

ANCIENT TIMES. Remote periods of antiquity.

Nothing can more forcibly show the use of an acquaintance with ancient learning, and, consequently, with ancient languages, than the erroneous opinions which are entertained of ancient times. Error can be dispelled only by knowledge. Our mistakes concerning ancient times are commonly these: 1. We supposè modern days to be greatly superior in arts and luxuries; and, 2. We give antiquity credit for a vast superiority in virtue. The first position, all history contradicts; and it will show, that with all their vices on their heads, public and private, the moderns can suffer nothing by comparison with the ancients. The history of ancient times evinces, that they witnessed the practice of all virtue; and not less will that of our own afford the same honourable testimony to the character of mankind. He that judges impartially, will confess, that in the past there will always be something to regret, in the present to condemn, and in the future to desire.

ANCHOR, a heavy, strong, crooked instrument of iron, cast or dropped from a ship into the water to retain her in a convenient station in a harbour, road, or river. Anchors were originally mere weights; at present they are intended to fasten in the ground as hooks. They are contrived so as to sink into the earth as soon as they reach it, and to hold a great strain before they can be loosened or dislodged. They are composed of a shank, a stock, a ring, and two arms with flukes. The stock, which is a long piece of timber fixed across the shank, serves to guide the flukes in a direction perpendicular to the surface of the ground; so that one of them sinks into it by its own weight, as soon as it falls, and is still preserved steadily in that position by the stock,