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# Encyclopædia Britannica, First Edition

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Shortcut: EB1 EB1771
Full Title: Encyclopædia Britannica; or, a Dictionary of Arts and Sciences, Compiled upon a New Plan, in Which the Different Sciences and Arts Are Digested into Distinct Treatises or Systems; and the Various Technical Terms, &c. Are Explained as They Occur in the Order of the Alphabet, Illustrated with One Hundred and Sixty Copperplates. Credited to "a Society of Gentlemen in Scotland". Printed by Colin Macfarquhar. Primarily illustrated by Andrew Bell. First serialized beginning in 1768.

## Volume I

* Title.
* Preface.
* Articles.

## Volume II

* Title.
* Articles.

## Volume III

* Title.
* Articles.
This work was published before January 1, 1930, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# Joseph Fawcett Letter 1821-02-09

This work was published before January 1, 1930, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
Source: Handwritten original in the private collection of the Chambless family. Transcribed to softcopy by Susan D. Chambless, 1998.
To his son, Lyle B. Fawcett.
Master Lyle B. Fawcett, Strasburg, Shenandoah, Va
Harrisonburg, 9th February 1821
Dear Son,
Your favor of the 2nd Instant is to hand. I have no desire that you should follow surveying for the purpose of making a living, I only want you to become well acquainted with that branch of the mathematicks in order enlarge your fund of useful Information, I therefore would not like to be at the expense of purchasing a set of Instruments for the only purpose of making a few experiments, as they would be of no use afterwards. If you had a set in this place they would be continually out on loan or then you would have to be out wasting your time in doing little unprofitable jobs, for which you would neither get thanks or pay. I know all this from experience for I once had a fine set of Instruments in this place which perhaps cost 40 or 50 dollars, and I loaned them until they were ruined in a great measure besides I wasted more time with them than two such sets were worth, and I cannot help thinking that you may borrow a set for a week or two to answer your purpose but if you cannot you must go on and study the Theory as well as you can, and when you come home in the spring I can very soon learn you how to use the Theodilite. My Dear Son there is an other reason why I can not comply with your request that is the immense demand on me for money if you knew my distress you would not ask me to pay a cent unless it would be for something of absolute necessity. The business of Daniel Ragin is coming to a crisis, and the alternatives before me exhibit nothing but what appears full of awful responsibility or great loss. I shall in all probability be compelled to enforce the sale of his lands and become the purchaser in which I hazzard all. If I succeed I shall avoid certain ruin, and if I do not succeed it will be only ruin. be therefore prepared to hear the worst, but always hope for the best.
Your mother, Brothers and Sisters are as well as they were when you at home. The whooping cough hangs to the young ones without abatement.
Mr McDowell will leave me on Monday next to commence the Study of Law.
Joseph Fawcett
Lyle B. Fawcett
# The Tippling Farmer (1802)/The Byestander

THE BYESTANDER.
# What a Beau My Granny was

* "What a Beau my Granny was", in Little couple (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Stirling
* "What a Beau My Granny Was", in The Tippling Farmer (1802), a chapbook printed in Glasgow
# The Tippling Farmer (1802)/What a Beau My Granny Was

What A BEAU MY GRANNY WAS.
# The Tippling Farmer (1802)/The New Ramilies

THE NEW RAMILIES.
# The New Ramilies

* "The New Ramilies", in The Tippling Farmer (1802), a chapbook printed in Glasgow
* "The New Ramilies", in Two original songs (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Peterhead
# Two original songs (1)/The New Ramilies

THE NEW RAMILIES.
You pretty maids where e'er you be, that have sweetheaats on the raging sea, Come shed a tear along with me, my love was lost in the Ramilie. My love he was a sailor bold as e'er a fair maid did behold, He was always constant kind to me, he has lost his life in the Ramilie,. The seas did roll full mountains high, there was no daylight in the sky. The wind did blow with a dismal shock, when the Ramilies dash'd against a rock Five hundred seamen stout and bold, were her on beard as we are told, Twenty-five of them their life, did save, the rest were buried in a watery grave. Nigh Plymouth harbour where they lay, the wind did blow most dismally, By boisterous seas the ships were drove, by cruel fortune I lost my love. You widows and you fatherless, come mourn with me in my distress, Their mothers to their fathers cries, we have lost our sons in the Ramilies.
FINIS.
# Two original songs (1)/Ben Stout

BEN STOUT, a parody on TOM TOUGH
My name you see is Ben Stout, I have not failed for nothing, No dangers e'er alarmed me, Aloft or yet below. In gallant Nelson's action, Where Nile‘s proud waves were frothing, I dauntless turned my quid, And cried what cheer ho? We valued not their cannons roar. We made ours echo ten times more. Thus we debrav'd you see A far superior foe. And when involved in smoke, I careless crack'd a joke. And to my shipmates cried, boys. What cheer ho? ​In vain did Brucess Boast, Our Squadron he would conquer. Or else to Davie's locker, Each Britsh tar should go; But when we came upon them, At sea, or yet at anchor. Brave Nelson with a broadside, Cried what cheer ho? Soon thunders roll'd from side to side, Poor Galics blood bestain'd the tide. For British tars strick home, When e'er they meet the foe. The Blood o'er flowed our decks, (Our ships lay as wrecks. Our tars each other hailing, Crying what cheer ho? But when thoughts came a-cross me About sweet Poll, my Partner, Whom I had left a sobbing Because I needs must go. A shot from some d———d frenchman Came thro' our larboard quarter, And struck of both my pins, And cried what cheer ho? This like a hull dismasted. While the hot action lasted, A bleeding on the platform, I anxious lay below. ​When a shipmate I espied, I eager to him cried Pray tell a wounded messmate What cheer ho? When the action it was over, Brave Nelson was victorious, And I tho' thus disabled Rejoiced and lay below. That what I suffer'd happned Upon a day so glorious, For King and Country fighting. So well the French may know Now at my ease my pipe I'll smock, And tell my Poll the serious joke, How I and Nelson suffered In Action with the foe. This may each British tar, Despise the fate of war, When British cannons thunder, Cry what cheer ho?
# Two original songs (1)/The Banks of Ugie

BANKS OF THE UGIE.
Tune—The Bonny Lass of Aberdeen.
As walking forth to view the plains, and to recreate myself a while, When every thing appear'd so gay, made me forget mv daily toil. So wander'd I, and did espy Brave Ugies Streams run smooth & clear, I walked along and sung a song, for the absence of my dearest dear.
2
Her absence then made me make moan, into the haughs of Rora sweet, For I thought long to be alone, I long'd my sweetheart for to meet. Thus as I mourn'd, myself I turn'd to view the braes that was so high, I spyed my lass, on the green grass, and swiftly she was drawing nigh.
3
And then with joy my spirits mov'd, when e'er I saw her lovely face, 'Twas only she I could have lov'd, in rapture I did her thus address,——— I said, my dear, if you'll come here, these streams so sweet will cherish thee To speak of love your heart to move, I hope that we two shall agree.
4
O no, she cryed pray let me be, for I'll live single all my life, Therfore, I plainly tell to thee, that I will be no man's wife, Virginity I prize so high, that all my life I will it keep. No man shall move my heart to love, nor will I be in love so deep.
5
I said my dear, how sweet is May, with all its variegated hue? I hope along with me you'll stay, you never shall have cause to rue. These streams so sweet, each other meet, in others arms they run along, And doth rejoice and make a noise, in singing of their nuptial song.
6
The one doth help the others strength, against whatever may befall; Till to the sea they run at length, obedient to each others call. Rejoicing still to have their will to run their course, down fast they press Till from the shore, and ne'er seen more, but sunk into the wide abyss.
7
And now my dear, if you'll agree, and like those streams, in love let's join Oar hearts and hands in harmony, then you will be for ever mine. United hearts will never part, whatever crosses may befal. Our force we'll join, and will combine our patience to surmount them all.
8
So thus, our Heady course we'll steer, thro' life's dark channel, to the end; The further we run, we will draw near the destin'd place where we intend.— Where you and I will mount on high, up to the blessed abodes above, And there we'll rest, and be more blest, where there is nought but joy & love.
7
Then if with me in harmony you love the matrimonial state, For it is for ever free From all disembling and deceit, no prying eye can e'er espy the pleasures there is to be had. And joys unknown can ne'er be shown, but by enjoying of the marriage bed.
10
Then to my arms she did incline with blushes in her lovely face, Says she myself I do resign, whatevor after be the case. Into your arms from future harms, I do resign myself for life: O then make haste, and let me taste the pleasures of a married WIFE.
# Two original songs (1)

TWO ORIGINAL SONGS,
By T. M.
VIZ.
The Banks of Ugie,
and
Ben Stout.
To which is added,
THE NEW RAMILIES.
Peterhead: Printed By P. Buchan.
* The Banks of Ugie
* Ben Stout
* The New Ramilies
This work was published before January 1, 1930, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# She's as the opening lilly fair

* "She's As the Opening Lilly Fair", in The Tippling Farmer (1802), a chapbook printed in Glasgow
* "Young Annie", in The Linnet (1819), a chapbook printed in Falkirk
* "She's as the opening lilly fair", in The Pope's knavery, or, Old Nick's invention (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Stirling
# The Tippling Farmer (1802)/She's As the Opening Lilly Fair

SHE'S AS THE OPENING LILLY FAIR.
# The Linnet (1819, Falkirk)/Young Annie

YOUNG ANNIE.
# The Pope's knavery, or, Old Nick's invention (1)/She's as the opening lilly fair

She's as the opening lilly fair.
When beauty blazes heav’nly bright, the muse can no more cease to sing, Than can the lark with rising light, her notes neglect with drooping wing, The morning shines, harmonious birds rise high, The dawning beauty smile, and poets fly.
Young Annie's budding graces claim th’ inspired thought, and softest lays: And kindle in the breast a flame, which must be vented in her praise. Tell us ye shepherds have ye seen E’er one so like an angel tread the green?
The youth, be watchful of your hearts; when she appears, take the ⟨alarm⟩: Love on her beauty points his darts, and wings an arrow from each charm. ⟨Around⟩ her eyes and smiles the graces sport, ⟨And⟩ to her snowy neck and breast resort.
​⟨But⟩ vain must every caution prove; when such inchanting sweetness shines, The wounded swain must yield to love, and wonder, tho’ he hopeless pines. ⟨Such⟩ flame the foppish butterfly should shun; ⟨The⟩ eagl's only fit to view the sun.
She’s as the opening lilly fair; her lovely features are complete; Whilst heaven indulgent makes her share, With angels all that’s wise and sweet. ⟨These⟩ virtues which divinely deck her mind, ⟨Exalt⟩ each other of th’ inferior kind.
Whether she love the rural scenes, or sparkle in the airy town. O! happy he, thy favour gains, unhappy, if she on him frown. ⟨The⟩ muse unwilling quits the lovely theme ⟨Adieu⟩ she sings, and thrice repeats her ⟨name⟩.
FINIS.
# The Tippling Farmer (1802)/The Disconsolate Sailor

The DISCONSOLATE SAILOR.
Printed by J. & M. Robertson, Saltmarket, 1802.
# The Disconsolate Sailor

* "The Disconsolate Sailor", in The Tippling Farmer (1802), a chapbook printed in Glasgow
* "The Disconsolate Sailor", in Wanton Virgins Frightened (1802), a chapbook printed in Glasgow
# Wanton Virgins Frightened/The Disconsolate Sailor

THE DISCONSOLATE SAILOR.
When my money was all spent I'd gain'd in the war, and the world began to frown on my fate, What matter'd my zeal or my honoured scars, when indifference stood at the gate.
The face that would smile when my purse was well lin'd, shews a diff'rent respect unto me; But if I can nought but indifference find, I'll hie myself again to the sea.
I thought it not safe to repine at my lot, or to stay with cold looks on the shore, But I pack'd up the trifling remains I had got, and a trifle, alas, was my store.
A handkerchief held all the treasure I had, which on a stick over my shoulder I threw, Away then I steer'd with a heart rather sad, for to join with some jolly ship's crew.
The sea was less troubled by far than my mind, and as the wide main I survey'd, I could not help thinking the world was unkind, and Fortune a slipp'ry jade.
But if I can take her once more into tow, I will let these ungrateful ones see, That the blust'ring winds and the billows can show, more kindness than they have for me.
# The Tippling Farmer (1802)/The Sailor's Return from Cape Breton

The Sailor's Return from Cape Breton.
# The Pope's knavery, or, Old Nick's invention (1)

THE Pope's Knavery OR Old Nick's Invention.
To which are added,
SWEET ALISON.
The Maid in Bedlam.
⟨She's⟩ as the op'ning lilly fair.
⟨Stirling, Printed⟩ and Sold by M Randall.
* Old Nick's Invention
* Sweet Alison
* The Maid in Bedlam
* She's as the opening lilly fair
This work was published before January 1, 1930, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Linnet (1819, Falkirk)/The Tailor came to Clout the Claise

THE TAILOR CAME TO CLOUT THE CLAISE.
FINIS.
# The Linnet (1819, Falkirk)/Mind Hussey what you do

Mind Hussy what you do
# The Linnet (1819, Falkirk)/I am not Twenty

I AM NOT TWENTY.
# The Linnet (1819, Falkirk)/Nobody, No

NOBODY NO.
Tune—Ge-ho Dobbin.
# The Linnet (1819, Falkirk)/Sweet Willy O

SWEET WILLY O.
# Who Is He?

This is a disambiguation page. It lists works that share the same title. If an article link referred you here, please consider editing it to point directly to the intended page.
* "Who is he?", a poem by Charlotte Williamson Himburg
* "Who Is He?", a poem by Martha Lavinia Hoffman
* "Who Is He?", a poem by Mumon
# Little birds

This is a disambiguation page. It lists works that share the same title. If an article link referred you here, please consider editing it to point directly to the intended page.
* "Little birds", a poem by Mabel Forrest
* "Little birds", a poem by Charlotte Williamson Himburg
# Mary of Glenkilloch

* "Mary of Glenkilloch", in Mary of Glenkilloch (1817), a chapbook printed in Falkirk
* "Mary of Glenkilloch", in The Linnet (1819), a chapbook printed in Falkirk
* "Mary of Glenkilloch", in The Wicked wife (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Falkirk
# Happiness

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Happiness"
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, Wikidata item
This is a disambiguation page. It lists works that share the same title. If an article link referred you here, please consider editing it to point directly to the intended page.

## Essays

* "Happiness" (1916), an essay by Thomas Arkle Clark

## Poems

* "Happiness", a poem by Eliza Lee Cabot Follen
* "Happiness", a poem by Charlotte Williamson Himburg
* "Happiness" (1914, "Happiness, to some, elation"), a poem by Amy Lowell
* "Happiness" (1858, "Wing-Footed! thou abid'st with him"), a poem by James Russell Lowell
* "Happiness", a poem by Mary Noel McDonald
* "Happiness" ("Ever again to breathe pure happiness"), a poem by Wilfred Owen
* "Happiness" (1849, "Oft doth man in distant regions"), a poem by Václav Jaromír Picek
* "Happiness", a poem by Frances M. Sharpless
* "Happiness" (1889, "This perfect love can find no words to say"), a poem by Edith Wharton

## Short stories

* "Happiness" (1918), a short story by Anton Chekhov
# The Linnet (1819, Falkirk)/Mary of Glenkilloch

MARY OF GLENKILLOCH.
# Courage

* Search for titles containing or beginning with: "Courage"
* sister projects: Wikipedia article, Wikidata item
This is a disambiguation page. It lists works that share the same title. If an article link referred you here, please consider editing it to point directly to the intended page.
* "Courage", a poem by Annie Lanman Angier
* "Courage", a poem by Matthew Arnold ("True, we must tame our rebel will")
* Courage, a short story by J. M. Barrie
* "Courage", a poem by Florence Earle Coates ("'T is the front toward life that matters most")
* "Courage", a poem by Mary A. Geisse
* "Courage", a poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe ("Carelessly over the plain away")
* "Courage", a poem by Charlotte Williamson Himburg
* "Courage", a poem by Dyneley Hussey ("Alone amid the battle-din untouched")
* "Courage", a poem by John E. Stewart ("I was afraid of Fear")
* "Courage", a poem by Celia Thaxter
* "Courage", a poem by Clara Augusta Jones Trask
* Courage, a speech by Mark Twain
* "Courage," a short sotry by Edgar Wallace
* "Courage", a poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox ("There is a courage, a majestic thing")
# The Sailor's Adieu

* "The Sailor's Adieu", in The Linnet (1819), a chapbook printed in Falkirk
* "The Sailor's Adieu", in The Tippling Farmer (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Stirling
* "The Sailor's Adieu", in The Swiss patriot (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Stirling
* "The Sailors Adieu", in Far, Far at Sea (n.d.), a chapbook printed in Stirling
# The Linnet (1819, Falkirk)/The Sailor's Adieu

THE SAILOR's ADIEU.
# Banks of Doon

* "Banks of Doon", in Isle of St Helena (1817), a chapbook printed in Stirling
* "Banks of Doon", in The Linnet (1819), a chapbook printed in Falkirk
# Isle of St Helena

⟨Isle of St Helena,⟩
BANKS OF DOON,
Highland Harry,
⟨RALPH⟩ AND MOSES,
AND
DULL CARE.
⟨PRINTED⟩ FOR, AND SOLD WHOLESALE BY, J. FRASER, PRINTER, STIRLING.
1817.
* Isle of St Helena
* Banks of Doon
* Highland Harry
* Ralph and Moses
* Dull Care
This work was published before January 1, 1930, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
# The Linnet (1819, Falkirk)/Banks of Doon

THE BANKS OF DOON.
# The Linnet (1819, Falkirk)/The Lover's Summons

THE LOVER's SUMMONS.
# The Willow Tree (1816)/The Willow Tree

Although uncredited, this work is by Thomas John Dibdin.
THE WILLOW TREE.
Oh, take me to your arms, my love, For keen the wind doth blow; O take me to your arms, my love, For bitter is my woe. She hears me not, she cares not, Nor will she list to me; And here I lie, in misery, Beneath the willow tree.
My love has wealth and beauty, The rich attend her door; My love has wealth and beauty, But I, alas! am poor. The ribbon fair that bound her hair Is all that's left to me; And here I lie, in misery, Beneath the willow tree.
I once had gold and silver, I thought them without end; I once had gold and silver, I thought I had a friend; My wealth is lost, my friend is false, My love is stole from me; And here I lie, in misery, Beneath the willow tree.
# The Willow Tree (1816)/The Bay of Biscay O

THE BAY OF BISCAY O.
Loud roar'd the dreadful thuuder; The rain in deluge show'rs! The clouds were rent asunder By lightning's vivid pow'rs. The night both drear and dark, Our poor devoted bark, Till next day, There she lay, In the bay of Biscay O.
Now dash'd upon the billow, Our op'ning timbers creak; Each fears a wat'ry pillow, None stop the dreadful leak. To cling to slipp'ry shronds, Each breathless seamen crowds, As she lay, Till the day, In the bay of Biscay O.
At length the wish'd-for morrow Broke thro' the hazy sky; Absorb'd in silent sorrow, Each heav'd the bitter sigh: The dismal wreck to view, Struck horror to the crew,
As she lay, On that day, In the bay of Biscay O.
Her yielding timbers sever, Her pitchy seams are rent; When Heav'n, all bounteous ever, Its boundless mercy sent! A sail in sight appears, We hail her with three cheers! Now we sail, With the gale, From the bay of Biscay O.
# The Willow Tree (1816)/The Wee Wee German Lairdie

THE WEE WEE GERMAN LAIRDIE.
Wha the deil hae we got for a King, But a wee, wee German lairdie! An' whan we gade to bring him hame He was delving his kail-yardie. Sheughing kail an' laying leeks, But the hose and but the brecks, Up his beggar duds he cleeks, The wee wee German lairdie.
An' he's clapt down in our gudeman's chair, The wee wee German lairdie, An' he's brought fouth o' foreign leeks, And dibblet them in his yardie.
He's pu'd the rose o' English lowns, An' brak the harp o' Irish clowns, But our thristle will jag his thumbs, The wee wee German lairdie,
Come up amang the Highland hills, Thou wee wee German lairdie; And see how Charlie's lang kail thrive, He dibblet in his yardie. An' if a stock ye daur to pu', Or haud the yoking of a pleugh, We'll break yere sceptre owre yere mou, Thou wee bit German lairdie.
Our hills are steep, our glens are deep, Nae fitting for a yardie; An' our norlan' thristles winna pu', Thou wee wee German lairdie! An' we've the trenching blades o wier, Wad lib ye o' yere German gear, An' pass ye 'neath the claymore's shear, Thou feckless German lairdie.
# The Willow Tree (1816)/Ye Mariners of England

YE MARINERS OF ENGLAND.
Ye mariners of England, Who guard our native seas, Who for these thousand years have bray'd The battle and the breeze;
Your glorious standard launch again, And match another foe, And sweep through the deep, While the stormy winds do blow. While the stormy winds do blow, While the stormy winds do blow, While the battle rages long and loud, And the stormy tempests blow.
The spirits of your fathers, Will start from every wave; The deck it was their field of fame, The ocean was their grave; Where Blake, the boast of freedom, fought, Your manly hearts will glow, As you sweep thro' the deep, While the stormy winds do blow. While the stormy winds, &c.
Britannia needs no bulwarks, No towers along the steep; Her march is o'er the mountain-wave, Her home is on the deep: With thunder from her native oak, She quells the floods below, As she sweeps through the deep, While the story winds do blow. While the stormy winds, &c.
The meteor-flag of England Must yet terrific burn,
Till the stormy night of war depart, And star of peace return. Then to our faithful mariners The social can shall flow, Who swept through the deep, While the stormy winds did blow. While the stormy winds, &c.
# The Willow Tree (1816)/The Father of Nancy

THE FATHER OF NANCY.
The father of Nancy a forester was, And an honest old woodman was he, And Nancy a beautiful innocent lass, As the sun in its circuit could see. She gather'd wild-flowers, and lilies, and roses, And cry'd thro' the village, 'Come buy my sweet posies.
The charms of this fair one a villager caught, A noble and rich one was he: Great offers he made, but by Nancy was taught That a poor girl right honest might be. She still gather'd wild-flowers, &c.
The father of Nancy a forester was, And a poor little stroller was she; But her lover, so noble, soon married the lass; She's as happy as maiden could be:
No more gather'd wild flowers, and lillies and roses, Nor cry'd thro' the village, 'Come buy my, sweet posies.'
# The Willow Tree (1816)/Is There a Heart That Never Lov'd

Is there a heart that never lov'd
Is there a heart that never lov'd, Nor felt soft woman's sigh? Is there a man can mark, unmov'd, Dear woman's tearful eye? Oh! beat him to some distant shore, Or solitary cell, Where nought but savage monsters roar, Where love ne'er deigned to dwell.
For there's a charm in woman's eye, A language in her tear, A spell in every sacred sigh, To man—to virtue dear. And he who can resist her smiles, With brutes one should live, Nor taste that-joy which care beguiles— That joy her virtues give.
FINIS.