ions, and pay their last respects to them. Upon the fourth day a coffin of cypress was sent from every tribe, to convey the bones of their own relations; after which went a covered hearse in memory of those whose bodies could not be found. All these, accompanied with the whole body of the people, were carried to the public burying-place, called Ceramicus, and there interred. One oration was spoken in commendation of them all, and their monuments adorned with pillars, inscriptions, and all other ornaments usual about the tombs of the most honorable persons. The oration was pronounced by the fathers of those deceased persons who behaved themselves most valiantly. Thus, after the famous battle at Marathon, the fathers of Callimachus and Cynægyrus were appointed to make the funeral oration. And, upon the return of the day upon which the solemnity was first held, the same oration was constantly repeated every year.' Interring, or laying the dead in the ground, seems to have been the most ancient practice among the Greeks; though burning came afterwards to be generally used among them. It was customary to throw into the funeral pile those garments the deceased usually wore. The pile was lighted by one of the deceased's nearest relations or friends, who made prayers and vows to the winds to assist the flames, that the body might quickly be reduced to ashes; and, during the time the pile was burning, the dead person's friends stood by it, pouring libations of wine, and calling upon the deceased. The funeral rites among the ancient Jews were solemn and magnificent. When any person was dead, his relations and friends rent their clothes; which custom is but faintly imitated by the modern Jews, who only cut off a bit of their garment in token of affliction. It was usual to bend the dead person's thumb into the hand, and fasten it in that posture with a string: because the thumb then having the figure of the name of God, they thought the devil would not dare to approach it. When they came to the burying-place, they made a speech to the dead in the following terms: Blessed be God, who has formed thee, fed thee, maintained thee, and taken away thy life. O dead! he knows your numbers, and shall one day restore your life, &c.' Then they spoke the eulogium, or funeral oration, of the deceased; after which they said a prayer, called the righteousness of judgment; then, turning the face of the deceased towards heaven, they called out, Go in peace.' The funeral rites among the ancient Romans, were very numerous. The deceased was kept seven days; and every day washed with hot water, and sometimes with oil, that, in case he were only in a slumber, he might be thus waked; and every now and then his friends meeting, made a horrible outcry or shout, with the same view; which last action they called conclamatio. The last conclamation was on the seventh day; when, if no signs of life appeared, the defunct was dressed and embalmed by the pollinctores; placed in a bed near the door, with his face and heels towards the street; and the outside of the gate, if the deceased were of condition, was garaished with cypress boughs. In the course of these seven days, an altar was raised near his bedside, calledacerra; on which his friends every day offered incense; and the libitinarii provided things for the funeral. On the seventh day, a crier was sent about the city, to invite the people to the solemnisation of the funeral in these words: 'Exequias L.Tit. L. filii, quibus est commodum ire, jam tempus est. Ollus (i. e. ille) ex ædibus effertur.' The people being assembled, and the last conclamation ended, the bed was covered with purple: a trumpeter marched forth, followed by old women called præficæ, singing songs in praise of the deceased: lastly, the bed followed, borne by the next relations; and, if the person were of quality and office, the waxen images of all his predecessors were carried before him on poles. The bed was followed by his children, kindred, &c., atrati, i. e. in mourning: from which act of following the corpse, these funeral rites were called exequiæ. The body thus brought to the rostra, the next of kin laudabat defunctum pro rostris, made a funeral oration in his praise and that of his ancestors. This done, the body was carried to the pyra, or funeral pile, and there burnt; his friends first cutting off a finger, to be buried with a second solemnity. The body consumed, the ashes were gathered; and the priest sprinkling the company thrice with clean water, the eldest of the preficæ crying aloud ilicet, dismissed the people, who took their leave of the deceased in this form :- Vale, vale, vale : nos te ordine quo natura permiserit sequemur:' The ashes, enclosed in an urn, were laid in the sepulchre or tomb. The ancient Christians testified their abhorrence of the Pagan custom of burning the dead, and always deposited the body entire in the ground; and it was usual to bestow the honor of embalming upon the martyrs at least, if not upon others. They prepared the body for burial by washing it with water, and dressing it in a funeral attire. The carrying forth of the body was performed by near relations, or persons of such dignity as the circumstances of the deceased required. Singing of psalms was the great ceremony used in all funeral processions among the ancient Christians. The funeral rites of the Greek church are much the same with those of the Latin. It needs only to be added, that after the funeral service, they kiss the crucifix, and salute the mouth and forehead of the deceased: after which each of the company eats a bit of bread and drinks a glass of wine in the church, wishing the soul a good repose, and the afflicted family all consolation. FUNERAL SERMONS. The custom of the Pagan Romans, in pronouncing funeral orations in praise of their deceased heroes, appears to have been very early adopted by the ancient Christians Some of their funeral sermons or orations are stil extant, as that of Eusebius on Constantine; those of Nazianzen on Basil and Cæsarius; and of Ambrose on Valentinian, Theodosius, and others. Gregory, the brother of Basil, made ɛπundelov Xoyov, a funeral oration, for Melitius bishop of Antioch; in which orations, they not only praised the dead, but addressed themselves to them, which seems to have introduced the custom of praying to departed saints. Now these orations were usually made before the bodies of the deceased were committed to the ground; which custom has been more or less continued ever since, to this day. The heathens honored those alone, with this part of the funeral solemnity, who were men of probity and justice, renowned for their wisdom and knowledge, or famous for warlike exploits; this, as Cicero inforins us, being part of the law for burials, which directs, that the praises only of honorable persons shall be mentioned in the oration. It would be much inore proper, if our funeral discourses were not so common, and if the characters given of the deceased were more just; devoid of that fulsome flattery with which they too often abound. FUNFKIRCHEN, or PETS, a town and bishop's see of Hungary, in Baranga, situated on a hill between the Drave and the Danube. The neighbourhood is particularly fertile in wine; the episcopa' library has several rare books and MSS. and Roman antiquities abound in the neighbourhood. This place was in possession of the Turks from 1543 to 1686; and in 1664 it was attacked by an Austrian army, and given up for three days to plunder. A university was founded in 1364, but soon fell into decay. Inhabitants 11,500. 140 miles W. N. W. of Belgrade, and 175 S. S. E. of Vienna. FUNGI, from apoyyos, fungus, in botany, the fourth order of the twenty-fourth class of vegetables, in the Linnæan system; comprehending all those which are of the mushroom kind. The ancients called fungi children of the earth, to indicate the obscurity of their origin. The moderns have likewise been at a loss in what rank to place them; some referring them to the animal, some to the vegetable, and others to the mineral kingdom. Messrs. Wilck and Münchausen have not scrupled to rank these bodies among animal productions; because, when fragments of them or their seeds were macerated in water, these gentlemen perceived a quantity of animalcules discharged, which they supposed capable of being changed into the same substance. Hedwig has lately shown how ill founded this opinion is with respect to the lichen; and M. Durande has demonstrated its falsity with regard to the corallines. Indeed,' says M. Bonnet, speaking of the animality of fungi, ' nothing but the rage for paradox could induce any one to publish such a fable; and I regret that posterity will be able to reproach our times with it. Observation and experiment should enable us to overcome the prejudices of modern philosophy; now, that those of the ancient have disappeared and are forgotten.' It cannot be denied that the mushroom is one of the most perishable of all plants, and it is therefore the most favorable for the generation of insects. Considering the quickness of its growth, it must be furnished with the power of copious absorption: the extremity of its vessels must be more dilated than in other plants. Its root seems, in many cases, to be merely intended for its support; for some species grow upon stones or moveable sand, from which it is impossible they can draw much nourishment. We must therefore suppose, that it is chiefly by the stalk that they absorb. These stalks grow in a moist, and tainted air, in which float multitudes of eggs, so small that the very insects they produce are with difficulty seer by the microscope. Can it be surprising, ther, that the corruption of the mushroom should make the water capable of disclosing_certain beings that are really foreign to both? It is not more easy to acquiesce in the opinions of those naturalists who place the fungi in the mineral kingdom, because they are found growing on porous stones, thence called lapides fungarii: which, however, must be covered with a little earth, and be watered with tepid water, in order to favor the growth. Such mushrooms are no more the produce of the stone, than the lichen is of the rock to which it adheres, or the moss of the tree on which it is found. We have only to observe the growth of mushrooms, to be convinced, that this happens by development, and not by addition or combination of parts as in minerals. The opinion of Boccone, who attributed them to an unctuous matter performing the function of seed, and acquiring extension by apposition of similar parts; and that of Morison, who conceived that they grew spontaneously out of the earth by a certain mixture of salt and sulphur, joined with oils from the dung of quadrupeds, have now no longer any adherents. Fungi are produced, they live, they grow, by development; they are exposed to those vicissitudes natural to the different peiods of life which characterise living substances; they perish and die. They extract, by the extremity of their vessels, the juices with which they are nourished; they elaborate and assimilate them to their own substance. They are, therefore, organised and living beings, and consequently belong to the vegetable kingdom. But whether they are real plants, or only the production of plants, is still a matter in dispute with the ablest naturalists. These productions were generally attributed to the superfluous humidity of rotten wood, or other putrid substances. The opinion took its rise from observing that they grew most copiously in rainy weather. Such was the opinion of Tragus, of Bauhin, and even of Columna, who, talking of the peziza, says, that its substance was more solid and harder, because it did not originate from rotten wood, but from the pituita of the earth. It is not surprising that, in times when the want of experiment and observation made people believe that insects could be generated by putrefaction, we should find the opinion general, that fungi owed their origin to the putrescence of bodies, or to a viscous humor analogous to putridity. Malpighi could not satisfy himself as to the existence of seeds which other botanists had pretended to discover. He only says, that these plants must have them, or that they perpetuate themselves and shoot by fragments. Micheli, among the moderns, appears to have employed himself most successfully on this subject. He imagined that he not only saw the seeds, but even the stamina, as well as the little transparent bodies destined to favor the dissemination and the fecundation of these seeds. fore this author, Lister thought he perceived seeds in the fungus perosus crassus magnus of John Bauhin: the little round bodies that are Be found in the pezizæ and helvella, at that time, passed for seeds; which did not appear at all probable to Marsigli, considering that the eye, when assisted with the very best microscopes, could perceive nothing similar in much larger fungi. Indeed these bodies may be the capsules or covers of the seeds, if they are not the seeds themselves. However this may be, Marsigli, observing that fungi were often without roots or branches, and that they wanted flowers and seeds, the means which nature employs for the production of perfect plants, thought himself warranted in doubting whether these beings could be ranked in the number of vegetables. The doubts of Marsigli prompted him to observe the formation of fungi. Their matrix he called situs: he imagined they grew in places where they met with an unctuous matter, composed of an oil mixed with nitrous salt, which, by fermentation, produced heat and moisture, and insinuated itself between the fibres of wood; that is, he imagined them the production of a viscous and putrescent humor. Lancisi, in like manner, considered fungi as owing their existence to the putrefaction of vegetables, and supposed them a disease in the plant; but he imagined, that the fibres of the trees were necessary to their production,' as is the case in the formation of galls; he compared them to the warts and other excrescences of the human body. He added, that such fungous vegetable tumors must necessarily assume various forms and figures, from the fluids which distend the tubes and vessels relaxed by putrescence, from the ductility of the fibres and their direction, and from the action of the air. This opinion has been refuted by the celebrated naturalist M. de Jussieu, in the Memoirs of the Academy of Sciences for 1728. He maintains, that the fungi have a great analogy with the lichen, which is allowed to be a vegetable; that, like the lichen, they are divested of stalk, branches, and leaves; that, like it, they grow and are nourished upon the trunks of trees; on pieces of rotten wood, and on all sorts of putrid vegetables; that they resemble the lichen too in the rapidity of their growth, and the facility with which many of them may be dried and restored to their former figure, upon being immersed in water; and, lastly, that there is a great similarity in the manner in which their seeds are produced. He affirms, that only the warts and excrescences which grow on animal bodies, and the knots and other tumors that are to be found on trees, can be compared with one another; for they are composed equally of the solid and liquid substance of the plant or animal on which they grow; whereas, the matter of the fungi is not only quite distinct from that of the plants on which they are found, but often entirely similar to the substance of those that spring immediately from the earth. The organisation, says M. de Jussieu, which distinguishes plants and other productions of nature, is visible in the fungi; and the particular organisation of each species is constant at all times and in all places; a circumstance which could not happen, if there were not an animal re-production of species, and consequently a multiplication and propaga tion by seed. This is not, he says, an imaginary supposition; for the seeds may be felt like meal upon mushrooms with gills, especially when they begin to decay; they may be seen with a magnifying glass, in those that have gills with black margins; and, lastly, says he, botanists can have no doubt that fungi are a distinct class of plants; because, by comparing the observations made in different countries with the figures and descriptions of such as have been engraven, the same genera and the same species are every where found. Notwithstanding this refutation, by M. de Jussieu, another naturalist, M. de Necker, has lately maintained, in his Mycitologia, that the fungi ought to be excluded from the three kingdoms of nature, and be considered as intermediate beings. He has observed, like Marsigli, the matrix of the fungi: and has substituted the word carchte (initium faciens) instead of situs; imagining that the rudiment of the fungus cannot exist beyond that point in which the development of the filaments or fibrous roots is perceived. He allows, that fungi are nourished and grow like vegetables; but he thinks that they differ very much from them in respect of their origin, structure, nutrition, and rapidity of growth. He says, that the various vessels which compose the organisation of vegetables are not to be found in the fungi, and that they seem entirely composed of cellular substance and bark; so that this simple organisation is nothing more than an aggregation of vessels endowed with a common nature, that suck up the moisture in the manner of a sponge; with this difference, that the moisture is assimilated into a part of the fungus. Lastly, that the fructification, the only essential part of a vegetable, and which distinguishes it from all other organised bodies, being wanting, fungi cannot be considered as plants. This he thinks confirmed, by the constant observation of these people who gather the morelle and the mushroom, and who never find them in the same spots where they had formerly grown. As the generation of fungi, says M. Necker, is always performed when the parenchymatous or cellular substance has changed its nature, form, and function, we must conclude that it is the degeneration of that part which produces these bodies. But, if fungi were owing merely to the degeneration of plants, they would be still better entitled to constitute a new kingdom. They would then be a decomposition, not a new formation or new bodies. Besides, we cannot deny that, in those bodies which form the limit between the animal and vegetable kingdoms, the organisation becomes simple, as the organs destined for nutrition are multiplied: but, as the last in the class of insects belongs to the animal kingdom, fungi ought, notwithstanding the simplicity of their organisation, still to belong to the vegetable kingdom. The parenchymatous or cellular substance, which, as M. Bonnet says, is universally extended, embraces the whole fibrous system, and becomes the principal instrument of growth, must naturally be more abundant in these productions; and this accounts for the rapidity of their enlargement. Besides growth, whether slow or rapid, never was employed to determine the presence or ab sence of the vegetable or animal character. The draba verna, which in a few weeks shoots, puts forth its leaves, its flowers, and fruit, is not less a plant than the palm. The insect that exists but for a day, is as much an animal as the elephant that lives for centuries. As to the seeds of the fungi, it is probable that nature meant to withdraw from our eyes the dissemination of these plants, by making the seeds almost imperceptible; and it is likewise probable, that naturalists have seen nothing but their capsules. Since, however, from the imperfection of our senses, we are unable to perceive these seeds, ought we to infer that they do not exist? Are we authorised to conclude this, because we do not find mushrooms where we have found them a year before? Undoubtedly not; for the greater part of plants require a particular soil, and the same mould that this year will foster a rare plant, will next year allow it to perish. Neither are we at liberty to deny the existence of these seeds, because those bodies which have been called their seeds, and the fragments or cuttings of the plants themselves, have not produced others of the same species. Nature seems to have reserved for herself the care of disseminating certain plants. It is in vain, for instance, that the botanist sows the dust found in the capsules of the orchis, which every one allows to be the seed. But, after all, what are those parts in the fungi casually observed by naturalists, and which they have taken for the parts of fructification? These are quite distinct from the other parts; and, whatever may be their use, they cannot have been formed by prolongation of the cellular substance, or of the fibres of the tree on which the fungus grows they are, therefore, owing, like flower and fruit, to the proper organisation of the plant. These plants, therefore, have a particular existence, independent of their putrefying nidus. The gills of certain fungi, which differ essentially from the rest of the plant in their conformation, would be sufficient to authorise this latter opinion. But can putrefaction create an organic substance? Nature undoubtedly disseminates through the air, and over the surface of the earth, innumerable seeds of fungi, as well as eggs of insects. The plant and the animal are excluded, when the nidus or the temperature is favorable for their development. No fortuitous concourse, either of atoms or fluids, could produce bodies so exquisitely and so regularly organised. It is sufficient to throw one's eyes on the beautiful plates which Schaffer has published of them, and compare them by the glass, with the warts and other excrescences of animals, to be convinced that they have not the same origin. The function of the cellular substance in vegetables must be greatly superior to that in animals, if it could produce any thing but deformities. The greater part of fungi exhibit a configuration much too regular, constant, and uniform, to be the effect of chance or putrefaction. As this form is preserved the same in all places, where fungi have been found, it follows that they contain in themselves the principles of their reproduction. They resemble the misletoe, and other parasitic plants, which are perfectly distinct from the trees on which they grow. The fungi, therefore, are organised and living substances, or true plants. FUNGIC ACID. The expressed juice of the boletus juglandis, boletus pseudoigniarius, the phallus impudicus, merulius cantharellus, or the peziza nigra, being boiled to coagulate the albumen, then filtered, evaporated to the consistence of an extract, and acted on by pure alcohol, leaves a substance which has been called by Braconnot fungic acid. He dissolved that residue in water, added solution of acetate of lead, whence resulted fungate of lead, which he decomposed at a gentle heat by dilute sulphuric acid. The evolved fungic acid, being saturated with ammonia, yielded a crystallised fungate of ammonia, which he purified by repeated solution and crystallisation. From this salt by acetate of lead, and thereafter sulphuric acid, as above detailed, he procured the pure fungic acid. It is a colorless, uncrystallisable, and deliquescent mass, of a very sour taste. The fungates of potash and soda are uncrystallisable; that of ammonia forms regular six-sided prisms; that of lime is moderately soluble, and is not affected by the air; that of barytes is soluble in fifteen times its weight of water, and crystallises with difficulty; that of magnesia appears in soluble granular crystals. This acid precipitates from the acetate of lead a white flocculent fungate, which is soluble in distilled vinegar. When insulated, it does not affect solution of nitre of silver; but the fungates decompose this salt. FUN'GUS, n. s. FUNGOS'ITY, N. S. FUN'GOUS, adj. Lat. fungus. Strictly a mushroom. A word used to express such excrescences of flesh as grow out upon the lips of wounds, or any other excrescence from trees or plants not naturally belonging to them; as the agaric from the larch-tree, and auriculæ Judæ from elder. Excrescent; spongy; wanting firmness. Many men, knowing that merry company is the only medicine against melancholy, spend all their days among good fellows in a tavern or ale-house, drinking fishes, water-snakes, or frogs in a puddle, and become venenum pro vino, like so many malt-worms, menmere funguses and casks. Burton. lengthen too much, are too fluid, and produce funguser, The surgeon ought to vary the diet as the fibres or as they harden and produce callosities. Arbuthnot on Diet. This eminence is composed of little points, or granula, called fungus, or proud flesh. Sharp. It is often employed to keep down the fungous lips that spread upon the bone; but it is much more painful than the escharotick medicines. Id. Surgery. FUNGUS. See SURGERY. a small cord. FUNK, n. s. & v. n. Sax. rýnig; Goth. fuin, finik, a stink: Lye says from Flem. fonck, perplexity. Dr. Johnson calls it a low word; but it seems to be of academical origin; being commonly used at Oxford for a scrape,' or perplexity. Every school boy knows its meaning. The best part of the veal and the Greek for hunc, Is the name of a man that makes us funk. Oxford Epigram. FUN'NEL, n. s. Lat. infundibulum, whence fundible, fundle, funnel. An inverted hollow cone with a pipe descending from it, through which liquors are poured into vessels with narrow mouths; a tun dish; a pipe or passage of communication. If you pour a glut of water upon a bottle, it receives little of it; but with a funnel, and by degrees, you shall fill many of them. Ben Jonson. The outward ear or auricula is made hollow, and contracted by degrees, to draw the sound inward, to take in as much as may be of it, as we use a funnel Ray to pour liquor into any vessel. Towards the middle are two large funnels, bored through the roof of the grotto, to let in light or fresh air. Addison. Some the long funnel's curious mouth extend, Through which ingested meats with ease descend. Blackmore. He put some live coals into an insulated funnel of metal, and, throwing on them a little water, observed that the ascending stream was electrised plus, and the water which descended through the funnel was electrised minus. Darwin. FUNNEL OF A CHIMNEY, the shaft, or smallest part of the waste, where it is gathered into its least dimensions. Palladio directs that the funnels of chimneys be carried throughout the roof four or five feet at least, that they may carry the smoke clear from the house into the air. See CHIMNEY, FIRE-PLACE, &c. He also advises that chamber chimneys be not made narrower than ten or eleven inches, nor broader than fifteen; for if too narrow, the smoke will not be able to make its way; and if too wide the wind will drive it back into the room. FUNSTERMUNSTER, or FINSTERMINSTER, a town of Switzerland, in Engandina, which the French, under Massena and Lecourbe, took possession of on the 26th of March, 1799, but were soon afterwards dislodged by the Austrians. FUR, adv. Now written far. At a distance. The white lovely dove Doth on her wings her utmost swiftness prove, are Sidney. FUR, n. s. & v. a. Fr. fourrure; Barb. Lat. FURRIER, n.s. furra, a hairy skin. Skin FURRY, adj. with soft hair, with which FUR WROUGHT. garments lined for warmth, or covered for ornament: soft hair of beasts found in cold countries; hair in general; any moisture exhaled to such a degree as that the remainder sticks on the part: fur-wrought is made of fur: to line or cover with skins that have soft hair; to cover with soft matter. The third had a mantell of lusty fresh colour The utter part of purpill, yfurred with pelur. Chaucer. The Merchantes Second Tale. Through tattered cloaths small vices do appear; Robes and furred gowns hide all. Shakspeare. Id. You are for dreams and slumbers, brother priest; You fur your gloves with reasons. This night, wherein the cubdrawn bear would couch, The lion and the belly-pinched wolf Keep their fur dry, unbonnetted he runs, And bids what will take all. Id. King Lear. Methinks I am not right in every part; I feel a kind of trembling at my heart: My pulse unequal, and my breath is strong; Besides a filthy fur upon my tongue. Dryden. Id. Id. Stretch out thy lazy limbs, awake, awake, And Winter from thy furry mantle shake. Not armed with horns of arbitrary might, Or claws to seize their furry spoils in fight. Three sisters, mourning for their brother's loss, Their bodies hid in bark, and furred with moss. Id. 'Tis but dressing up a bird of prey in his cap and furs to make a judge of him. L'Estrange Such animals as feed upon flesh qualify it, the one by swallowing the hair or fur of the beasts they prey upon, the other by devouring some part of the feathers of the birds they gorge themselves with. Ray on the Creation. A dungeon wide and horrible; the walls Silent along the mazy margin stray, And with the fur-wrought fly delude the prey. Gay's Pastorals. From Volga's banks the' imperious Czar Leads forth his furry troops to war. Felton. Swift And lordly gout wrapt up in fur, FUR, or FURR, in commerce, signifies the skins of wild beasts, dressed in alum with the hair on, and used as a part of dress by princes, magistrates, and others. The kinds most in use are those of the ermine, sable, castor, hare, Coney, &c. It was not till the later ages that the furs of beasts became an article of luxury. The refined nations of antiquity never made use of them; those alone who were stigmatised as barbarians were clothed in the skins of animals. Strabo describes the Indians covered with the skins of lions, panthers, and bears; and Seneca the Scythians clothed with the skins of foxes and the smaller quadrupeds. Virgil exhibits a picture of the savage Hyperboreans, similar to that which might be witnessed in the clothing of the wild Americans. Most part of Europe was then in similar circumstances. Cæsar was, perhaps, as much amazed with the skin-dressed heroes of Britain, as our celebrated Cook was at those of his new discovered regions. What time has done to us, it may also effect for them; and, it is to be hoped, with much less bloodshed. Civilisation may take place; and those spoils of animals, which are at present essential for their clothing, become merely objects of ornament and luxury. It does not appear that the Greeks or ancient Romans ever made use of furs. It originated in those regions where they most abounded, and where the severity of the climate required that species of clothing. At first, it consisted of the skins only, almost in the state in which they were torn from the body of the beast; but, as soon as civilisation took place, and manufactures were introduced, furs became the lining of the dress, and often the elegant facing of the robes. It is probable that |