ECL 
ECHIOM, in botaii}', a genus of the 
Pentandria Monogynia class and order. 
Natural order of Asperifoliae. Borragineae, 
Jussieu. Essential character ; corolla irre- 
gular, with the throat naked. There are 
twenty-one species, of which E. fruticosum, 
shrubby vipers bugloss, rises with a shrubby 
stalk two or three feet high, dividing at top 
into several branches ; leaves sessile, hairy, 
light green. The flowers are produced 
singly between tlie leaves at the ends of 
the branches ; they are of a purple colour, 
and in shape much like those of the Cretan 
sort. They appear in May and June ; the 
seeds do not ripen in England. Native of 
the Cape of Good Hope. 
ECHO, a sound reverberated or reflect- 
ed to the ear from some solid body, See 
Acoustics. 
Echo, in architecture, a term applied to 
‘ certain kinds of vaults and arches, most 
commonly of elliptical and parabolical 
figures, used to, redouble sounds, and pro- 
duce artificial echoes. 
Echo, in poetry, a kind of composition 
wherein the last words or syllables of each 
verse contain some meaning, which being 
repeated apart, answers to some question 
or other matter contained in the verse, as 
in this beautiful one from Virgil ; 
Cmdelis mater magis, an puer improbus 
ille? 
Improbus ille puer, crudelis tu quoque ma- 
ter. 
Tbe elegance of an echo consists in giv- 
ing a new sense to the last words ; which 
reverberate, as it were, the motions of the 
mind, and by that means affect it with sur- 
prise and admiration. 
Echo, in music, is frequently fpimd in 
church volunWies, over those passages of 
repetitions which are performed on the 
swell, and intended as echoes to the great 
organ. 
ECHOMETER, among musicians, a 
kind of scale or rule, with several lines 
thereon, serving to measure the duration 
and length of sounds, and to find their in- 
tervals and ratios, 
ECLECTICS, ancient philosophers, 
who, without attaching themselves to any 
particular sect, selected whatever appear- 
ed to them the best and most rational, 
from each. 
ECLIPSE, the deprivation of the light 
of the sun, qr of some heavenly body, by 
the interposition of another heavenly body 
between our sight and it. Thus, eclipses 
ECL 
of the sun happen by the moon’s interven* 
ing between it and the earth; by which 
means the shadow of the moon falls upon 
the earth, when the latitude of the moon 
does not prevent it, by elevating the moon 
above, or depressing it below the earth. 
On the other hand, an eclipse of the moon 
can only happen when the earth is inter- 
posed between the sun and it ; for then, if 
the latitude of the moon does not prevent 
it, the shadow of the earth may fall on the 
moon, and thereby cause either a partial or 
total eclipse. A total eclipse of the sun or 
moon is when their whole bodies are ob- 
scured ; and a partial one is when part only 
of their bodies is darkened : again, a cen- 
tral eclipse is when it is not only total, but 
the eclipsed body passes through the cen- 
tre of the shadow. See Astronomy. 
As total solar eclipses are by no means 
common, we shall give an interesting de- 
scription of one, by Dr. Stukeley, sent to 
his friend the celebrated Dr. Edmund Hal- 
ley. 
“ According to my promise, I send you 
what I observed of the solar eclipse, though 
I fear it will not be of any great use to you. 
I was not prepared with any instruments 
for measuring time or the like, and pro- 
posed to myself only to watch all the ap- 
pearances that nature would present to the 
naked eye upon so remarkable an occasion, 
and which generally are overlooked, or but 
grossly regarded. I chose for my station a 
place called Haradon Hill, two miles east- 
W'ard from Amsbury, and full east from the 
opening of Stonehenge avenue, to which it 
is as the point of view. Before me lay the 
vast plain where that celebrated work 
stands, and I knew that the eclipse would 
appear dirpctly over it ; beside, I had the 
advantage of a very extensive prospect 
every way, this being the highest hill here- 
abouts, and nearest the middle of the sha- 
dow ; full west of me, and beyond Stone- 
henge, is a pretty copped hill, like the top 
of a cone, lifting itself above the horizon ; 
this is Clay-hill near Warminster, 20 miles 
distant, and near the central line of dark- 
ness, which must come from thence, so that 
I could have notice enough before hand of 
its approach. Abraham Sturgis and Ste- 
phen Ewens, both of this place and sensible 
men, were with me. Though it was very 
cloudy, yet now and then we had gleams of 
sunshine, rather more than I could perceive 
at any other place around us. These two 
persons looking through smoaked glasses, 
while I was taking some bearings of the 
