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Full text of "The Encyclopaedia Britannica: “a” Dictionary of Arts, Sciences, Literature ..."

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/ 



•"'•'''^■P'fiplfl 



I 



THE 



ENCYCLOPEDIA BRITANNICA 



ELEVENTH EDITION 



FIRST 


•dldoo, 


pablUhcd la thrtt tbianci, 


I7«8-X77I. 


SECOND 


»f 


f» 


ten n 


1777—1784. 


THIRD 


*• 


»t 


^ghteen »« 


1788— 1797. 


FOURTH 


>• 


»i 


twenty n 


1801— 1810. 


nriH 




t> 


twenty „ 


18x5—1817. 


SIXTH 




>• 


twenty „ 


1833—1834. 


SEVENTH 




f* 


twenty-one n 


1830—1843. 


EIGHTH 




tf 


twenty-two tt 


1853-1860. 


NINTH 




•> 


twenty-five ft 


1875—1889. 


TENTH 




ninth tdition and eleven 








nipplementery T^umcs, 


X903— 1903. 


ELEVENTH 


tt 


poblialMdin 


1 twenty-nine volttnci, 


19x9— X9XX. 



THE 



ENGYCLOPiEDIA BRITANNIGA 



DICTIONARY 

OF 

ARTS, SCIENCES, LITERATURE AND GENERAL 

INFORMATION 



ELEVENTH EDITION 



VOLUME XIX 

MUN to ODDFELLOWS 



NEW YORK 

THE ENCYCLOPAEDIA BRITANNICA COMPANY 

1911 



s 



Copyright, in the United Sutcs of Americe, 1911, 
TheEncydopadin Britannica Conptny. 



INITIALS USED IN VOLUME XIX. TO IDENTIFY INDIVIDUAL 

CONTRIBUTORS,* WITH THE HEADINGS OF THE 

ARTICLES IN THIS VOLUME SO SIGNED. 



A.A.W.H. 

A.Ck. 
A.K.S. 

A.F.P. 



A.Gtu 

A.J.O. 

A.U 
A.LLSk 

A.JL€L 



A.& 



A.P.H. 



A.R.& 
A.ft.B. 



Amxosius AsKOiD Willem Hubiecht, LL.D., D.Sc., Pb.D. f . 

Profenor of Zoolocy, and Director oC the loititute of Zoology b th« UmverMty X llMlialloa (m pan^. 
oC UtrechL Author of Ntmertiius. t 

AiTHUi Caylky, LL.D., F.R.S. 

See the biognphkal article: Catlbt, AsTBUt. 

AxTHUi EvEXETT Sbipuey, M.A., D.Sc., F.R.S. . « 

Master of Chrkt's CoUm. Cambridge. Reader in Zoology, Cambridge Univcrvity. i Ifeiliatomofplia; 



illiimlMn* Pitfttttoii oL 
Htmitoda (in part); 



J<nnt-editor of the Cammdge Naturu History. 

AlBEBT FSEDEUCE POLLAID, M.A., F.R.HIST.S. 



■■{ 



P ro fe M or of English History in the University of London. Fellow of All Souls 
CoUege, Oxford. Aasisunt Editor of the Dicliomary of National Biography, 1893- ' 



WMimrdna (in part), 

Nleliolas, Hraiy;. 
Moithnmbtrlud, Jolm Dudky* 
doki oL 



1901. Lothian Prixeman, (Mord, iSoa; Arnold Pnxeman. 18987 'Author' of 
Erngfand under lk$ FroUcior Sowt€rr€i\ Honry VIIL ; LiS* 9$ TImkw Oommt; &c 

Sn ASCBZBAID GeDOE, K.C.B. J w,.«.hfeM. 

See the biographical article : Cbixib. Sii AlCBUALa \ MimillsoiL 

f Wnllm? 
Rev. Alezandee Gobdom, M.A. J wmamIm «mm«uii. 

Leaurer in Church History in the Universit^^. Manchestcn iJbnl 5!!!!5| 

Adolf Habnacs, Ph.D. 

See the biographical article: Habmace, Aoolf. 



4^ HMplBtoiilBa {$m pari) 



Rev. Alezamdbb Takes Gbieve, M.A., B.D. 

Professor of New Testament and Church History at the United Independent. 
College, Bradford. Sometime Registru' of Madras University and Member of 
Mysore Educational Sendee. 

Ajobew Lano, LL.D. 

See the biognphical artide: Lang, Andbew. 



Sn A. HOUTUM-SCHXNDLEB, CLE. 

General in the Persian Army. Author of Eatfem Periiaii /raJL 

f HaBtoriiOi {in part); 
Hostorlai {in part); 
Hew JenisaleBi Chunh; 
meholas of BbmL 
Hytbology; 

Hum {Local and Personal 
Names). 
Abtbub Llewexxtn Davies (d. 1907). f 

Trinity College, Cambridge; Barrister*«t-Law, Inner Temple. Formerly Assistant \ MegUffUiet. 
Reader in Common Law under the Council of Legal Education. t 

Agves Mubiel Clat (Mrs Edward Wilde). f 

Late Resident Tutor of Lady BCaigaret Hall, Oxfbcd. Joint-editor of Soureos ojA Hnnldpllim. 
Sbrmam History^ iJJ-70 B.C. t 

IfBttor; 



AiiBED Newton, F.R.S. 

See the biognphical article: NBWtON, Alfbeo. 



Hidlfleattoii {in part); 
mghtingBls; noddy; 
Hntenekar; Hathateh; 
Ooydromo. 



Katal {in part). 



^ITKBA Peteb Hxlueb, M.D., M.P. 

President. South African Medical Congress, 1893. Author of Sontit Afriean Stndies ; 
Ac Served in Kaffir War, 1878-1879. Partner with Dr L. S. Jameson in medical . 
practice in South Africa till 1896. Member of Reform Committee, Johannesburg, 
and Political Prisoner at Pcetoria, 1895-1896. M.P. for Hitchin divtsioa of Herts, 
191a 

Sib Alesandeb Russell Sdcpson, M.D.. LL.D., D.Sc., F.R.S. (Edin.). f 

Emeritus Professor of Midwifery. Edinourgh University. Dean of the Faculty of < OhfttotrlCi* 
Medicine and Professor in the University, 1870-1905. t 

Abtbub Stanley Eodincton, M.A., M.Sc., F.R.A.S. f 

Chief Asnstant at the Royal Observatory, Greenwich. Fellow of Trinity College, < Hoblllk 
Cambridge. ^ 

* A oompkce fist diowing all individual contriboton^ Bppcars In the final ^rolume. 



vi INITIALS AND HEADINGS OF ARTICLES 

A. S. P^« Amdiew Setb Pkingle-Pattison. MA., LL.D., D.C.L. . f 

Profeaaor of Logic and MeUpnyaict in the Univerrity of Edinbarsh. GUFordJ MyiltatanL 
Lecturer in the Untventty of Aberdeen, 1911. Fellow of the British Academy. I 
Author tA Man*s Piau in tk» Cosmu; The Pkilavapkkal Radicalti &C. ^ 

A.Tk AlSEKT T^OKAS. f- . M- 

Member of the French Chamber of Deputies. Contributor to VoL sL of tbe-f lltpotoon UL 
CamMdit Modim History. Author ct L§ steond Empin, Sec I 

A.W. H.* Akthuk William Holland. f-,,, . 

Formerly Scholar of St John's CoUcge, Oxford. Bacon Scholar of Gray's Inn. 1900. \ "Onjoron. 

A. W. HiL A&THUK WOLLASTON HUTTON. f 

Rector of Bow Church, Cheapside, London. Formeriy Librarian of the Nattonal J H«win*n l^Miml 
Liberal, Oub. ^Author^of Lifil^ Cardinal Manmrnt- Editor of Newman's Ltm 1 ■•^™«» UH«au, 



CH.Ha. 



of Iko Enifish Saints i ftc 

I.P. 

trait Gallerv. Hon. Secretary of Sodetv for Protection 

MmtUBi «C All 



LoBD Balcasbss, F.S.A., M.P. 

Trustee of National Portrait Gallery. Hon. Secretary of Society for Protection 
of Andent Buildings; Vice-Chairroan of National trust. Junior Lonl of the 



Treasury, 1903-1905. M.P. for Chorley division of Umcs from 1895. Son and 
heir of the a6tn earl of Crawford. 

B.R. SB BovEXTON RiDWOOO, D.S&, F.ILS. (Edin.), FJ.C., A8s0c.I2ffiT.CX., 

M.INST.M.E. 
Adviser on Fetroktim to die Admirslty, Home Cntice, India Office, Corporation of 
London, and Port of London Authority. President of the Society of Chemical ^ W tf ilil ML 
Industry. Member of the Council of the Chemical Society. Membo' of Council of 
Institute of Chemistry. Author of QuUor Ltttmns am FUroltmm\ Pttroknm and 
its Products I Chemical Technology i &c 

B.S.P. pZKTHA SUXTEES PHXLPOTTS, M.A. (DubUn). JwMmm^w 1fjt0t^ m,tjm*s 

Formeriy Librarian of Girton Colkge. Caiibridga. ^Marwtf . Early Huiory. 

B.W.* BiCKLES WnxsoN. /« ^ ^1.^ 

Author of The Hudson's Bay Company; The Romance of Canada; Ac. \ mviOllliaillML 

0. F. ■• B. CHARLES FSEOEUC MOBEILY BSLt. f 

Manasing Director of The Tvnes. Conuppndent in Egypt, i86s-l89a Author of A MQhtr FMhA. 



Khedioes and Pashas; Prom Pharaoh to Fmah; &c 



Caelton Huhtlbt Hayes. A.M., Ph.D. r «i«iuii.. rtt fv ^fi^ ir 

Anisunt Professor of History at Columbia Univernty, New York Qty. Member J ^^Tl "*^ »»••"" '^. 
of the American Historical Association. t ^f^*' 



C. H. W. !• Rev. Claude Heekamn Waltee Jobks, M.A., Litt.D. 

Master of St Catharine's College, Cambridge. Canon of Nocvich. Author of •{ HlMVth. 
Assyrian Deeds and Doenments, 

C K. 8* Clement King Shoeter. 

Author aI /^i»«y^fa BramlM afl^~Eir fiirelcf T%m BfamOirJ ^ 

lUustrated Papen* 



ofJ] 

KENT King Shoetee. f »■■■■.■■■■■■ 

Editor of the Sphere, Author of Charialte BronU andHer Orde; The Brontls:^ MWfP^PSn* 
I4fe and Letters; dK. \ lUustrated 



0. ■. Cael TteoDOE MntBT, D.Ts. f 

Professor of Church History in the University of Marburg. Author of PuUieistih < HleMIt OotUMll OL 

im Zeitalter Greptr VII. ; Qnelten nr Ceschichle des Papstthnms ; &c. I 

G. IL Cbedohille Mijatovicb. r 

1903. I 

C PL Cbeistian VnsTEE, D.-2s L. 

Professor at the Sorbonne, Paris. Chevalier of the Legion of Honour. Author of •{ K^ortrfl. 
£tM'l€S sur le ripu de Robert le Pieux. 



Senator of the Kingdom of Servia. Envoy Extraordinary and Minister Pleni-J ^^^ 
poteotiarv of the King of Servia to the Court of St James's, 1895-1900, and 1909-1 "'''■* 



i 



C Bi BL Cbasles Raymond Beazley, M.A., D.Litt. fVaahnm* 

Professor of Modem History in the UniverMty of Birmingham. Formeriy Fellow J Stitii * 
of Merton College. Oxford, and University Lecturer in the History of Geography. 1 "wnwi 
Author of Henry the Naoigator ; The Dawn of Modem Geography ; &c [ If OVtaW 

G. & flL Cbaeles Scott Shebeington, D.Sc., M.D., M.A., F.R.S., LL.D. r 

Professor of Physiology, University of Uverpo(rf. Foreign Member of Academies j w^^Lk mmA whm 
of Rome. Vienna, Brussels. GOttingen, Ac Author of 7^ Integratioe Action ofi ■OMM ana fltnv. 
the Nervous System, t 

D.B.IIIL Duncan Black Macdonald, M.A.. D.D. r 

Professor of Semitic Languages, Hartford Theological Seminary, U.S.A. Author of J wmIIm ikh auiimiiifl 
Development ef MudimTheology, Jurisprudence and Constitutional Thtory; Setec-i ■■"™ »* A*-VllW. 
tionsfiom Urn Khaldun; Religious Attitude and Life in Islam; Ac. [ 

D. F. T. Donald Feancb Tovby. f 

Balliol College, Oxford. Author of Essays in Musical Analysis', comprising Thej w-.^ 
Classical Concerto, The Goldberg Variations, and analyses of many other classical ) ^""^ 
works. I 

1L CU H. David Geosob Hooaetb. M.A. 

Keeper of the Ashmolean Museam, Oxford Fellow of Magdalen College. Oxford. -- ,, 
Fellow of the British Academy. Excavated at Paphos, i88iB: Naucnids.i89Q and '< ■y*' 
1903: Ephcsus, 1904-190S*. Assiut. 1906-1907. Director, British School at 
Athens, 1897-1900. Director, Cretan Exploration Fund, 1899. 



INITIALS AND HEADINGS OF ARTICLES 



vu 



a& 



aM.w. 



BLB.T. 

B.r.flL 



K.nr. 



B.P.& 



&ft.a 



S.W.H.* 


r.s.B. 


p.a&a 


p.&r. 



Davd HAmtAY. 

Fonneriy British Vice-Contul at Buodona. Author of Skeri Hulary tt Urn Royal 
Nay; Ltf4 tf BmUic Cast€iari&c 



Noma Operaiwns', 
Havarino, Battle of; Kavy 
MdMD; mbf Battle of the. 



Sia DowALD Mackenzie Wallace, K.C.I.E., K.C.V.O. 

Extra Groom-in-WaitioK to H.M . King Gcocge V. Director of the Fomgn Depart' 

meat of Tkt Times, 1891-1899. Joint-editor of new volumet (loth edition) of the •{ MOUIlnil. 

EMcyeiopaedia Britannua, Author of Rturiai Egypt and lk$ Egyptian Qutstian; 

Tki Wab of Empin; Ac 

DiARiUD Noel Paton, M.D., F.R.C.P. (Edin.). 

fU^os Profettor 01 PhyUology in the Univervity of daifow. FormeHy Super- . ^ ^. 
tntendent of Research Laboratory of Royal CoUm of Phyridans, Edinburgh, i MlltntiOII. 
Biological Fellow of Ediobuigh Untvenity, 1884. Author of Etttnlial$ tf Human 
Phystohgy; Ac 

Daniel Wbicbt. M.D. f _ 

Trandated the History of Nopamt, from the Pkrbatiya, with an " Introductory i Ke^ (in part). 
Sketch of the Country and Ptople of NepauL'* I 

EoWAED AuctJSTUS Freeman, LL.D. r_ .^. _ 

See the biographical article: Fubman, E. A. | WoUDty; lonnaiH. 

Edwabd BtriNETT Tylok, D.C.L.. LL.D. f 

See the biographical article : Tylok, Eowaeo .Bubmbtt. y ^^^^^ 

Eowabd Fairbsotbee Stbance. I 

Asiisunt Keeper, Victoria and Albert Museum. South Keosinfton. Member of J MnnksMv 

Council. Japan Society. Author of numerous works on art subjects. Joint-editor 1 '■(■"■■^r* 
of BeU's ^' Cathedral '* Series. [ 

{Horton, Thomai; 
Horwajr: Norwegian IMerolnre: 
MoveL 

Ebnest Abtbub Gabdneb, M.A. 

See the biographical article: Cabombb, Pebct. 



Eomumd Gosse, LL.D. 

See the bk)paphlcal article: GossB, Eomumd. 



•{llreeiiae; 



Xaiicnttaa 



Eowabd Heawooo. M.A. 

Gooville and Caius Colleget Cambridge. 
Society, London. 

Ellb Hovell Minns, M.A. 



Univentty Lecturer in Palaeogni^y. Cambridge. Lecturer and Assistant Librarian 
at Pea^MToke CoUege, Cambridge. Formeriy fellow of Pembroke College. 

Edwabd Meyeb 



Librarian of the Royal Geographical -j Hyaa. 

-j neon. 



^ABD Meyeb. Ph.D., D.LrTT. (Oxon.). LL.D. f 

Professor of Ancient History in the University of Beriin. Author of GeschickU des < 
AlUrtktmsi Gtxkkhto dot autn Aegyptens; JHo IsraeUUn und ihra NaMarstdmmo. L 



(King of Persia). 



Eustace Neville-Rolfe, C.V.O. (1845-1908). 

Fonneriy H.M. Cbnaul-General at Naples. Author of Napla in tko 'NineUes; Ac. 

EOGAB PbESTACE. 

Spedal Lecturer in Portuguese Literature in the 
Examiner in Portuguese in 



{ 



University of 
the Universities of London, Manchester, ftc. 




Manchester. 
Corn- 
Lisbon' 
Letttrs 



E. P. Catbcabt, M.D. 

Grieve Lecturer in Chemical Phynology, Univenity of Glasgow. 

Sn Edwin Ray Lanxesteb, K.C.B^ F.R.S., M.A., D.Sc., LL.D. 

Hon. Fellow of Exeter CoUm, Oxford. President of the British Association, IQ06. 
Professor of Zocdogy and Comparative Anatomy in University CoUege, London, 
1874-1890. Linacre Prof ess or of Comparative Anatomy at Oxford, 1 891-1898. 
Duector of the Natural History Departments of the British Museum, 1898-1907. 
^^ce-PreA)ent of the Royal Society, 1896. Romanes Lecturer at Oxford, 1905. 
Author of Dogjtntntioni tm Adnttcoment of Scitncoi Tko Kingdom of Man; Ac. 

Edwin Stephen Goodbich, M.A., F.R.S. 

Fellow and Librarian of Merton College, Oxford. Aldrichian DemoMCittor of Com* 
parativc Anatomy, University Museum, Oxford. 

Rev. Edmond Wabbe, M.A^ D.D., D.C.L., C.B. C.V.O. 



i RBtiltfam {in part). 



MasMl (m part). 






 

{ 

r. £OlfOND WABBE, M.A^ D.V., D.C.L., C.B. C.V.O. f 

Provost of Eton. Hon. Fellow of Balliol CoUege, Oxford. Headmaster of Eton •! Oar. 
CoUege, 1884-1905. Author of G^amniar of Rowtng; &c. [ 

Sim Eowabd Walter Havilton, G.C.B., K.C.V.O. (1847-1908). f w««««.i iw^. 

Joint Permanent Secretary to H.M. Treasury, 1902-1908. Author of National } "•«>""■* r"*",. . ^ 
27^ Comorsion and Redemption. \ Converstons {m parti. 

FiANX EvEBS Beddabd, M.A., F.R.S. r 

Prosector of the Zodo^cal Society. London. Tormcriy Lecturer va Bioksy at I — ^-^- /. ^^^^^ 

Giw's Hospital. London. Naturalist to " Challenger " Expedition Commusion.l "«»«•« («» ponh 
1882-1884. Author of Text-Book of Zoogeog^pky; Animal Coloration ; Ac. [ 



RofthmntebL 



FuDEBicK Geobge Meeson Beck, M.A. 

FeUow and Lecturer of Clare CoUege, Cambridge. 

FbBOEBICK GyMEB PabSONS, F.R.C.S., F.Z.S.. F.R.ANTHBOF.InST. r Mnsmlar SwImii* 

Vice-President. Anatomical Society of Great Britain and Ireland. Lecturer on J J*"^"*" ojawm. 
Anatomy at St Thomas's Hospital and the London School of Medicine for Women. 1 "We; 
Formeriy Hunterian Professor at the Royal College of Surgeons. { Rervovs qpsteOL 



{ 



viu INITIALS AND HEADINGS OF ARTICLES 

F. J. EL Feamos Tohn Ravektield, M.A.. LL.D., F.S.A. f 

Camoien Professor of Ancient History in the University of Oxford. Fellow of 
Bresenose College. Fellow of the British Academy. Senior Censor, Student, Tutor < ff '^n nBl rt li. 
and Librarian of Christ Church. Oxford. 1891-1907. Author of MooQgniphs on 
Roman History, especially Roman Britain ; &c. 

F. Ili Q« FKAMcaa Llewellyn GximTB, M.A., Pr.D.. F.S.A. f 

Reader in Egyptology, Oxford University. Editor of the Archaeological Survey and J ot^tigW 
Archaeological Reports of the Egypt Exploration Fund. Fellow of Imperial ] votuib* 
German Archaeological Institute. L 

F. L. Ifc Lady Litgaxo. / Ifoaaiawi; 

See the bicgnphical articles Lucaid, Sift F. J. D. \ Mlgtlll. 

F. H. ■. Col. Fkedesic Natusch Maude, C.B. f v>BttlMiite (kmrnteM* 

Lecturer in MiUtary History. Manchester University. Author of War and &ei a>jJT: ""~r"t^ 
World's Policy', The Leipnt Campaipn Tko Jena CampoigH; ftp. I MUtlary. 

F.B.a Fkane R. Cana. / Hltal (in ^zrl); lifBr; 

Author of South Africa from the Great Trek to the Union. \ Mlb {in fart). 

F. W. Ha.. Feedesick Wxluah Haslitck, M.A. f 

Assistant Director, British School of Archaeology, Athens. Fellow of IGng's-f Mftitu 
College, Cambridge. Browne's Medallist. 1901. L 

F.W. Ho. Feederice Walker MoTT, F.R.S., M.p., F.R.C.P. _ f 

Physician to Charic 
Asylums. Fu" 
of Neuroloiy, 

G. A. C* Rev. George Albert Cooks, M.A., D.D. f 

Oriel Professor of the Interpretation of Holy Scripture. Univerrity of Oxford. J aj,^— «!,— 
Feljow of Oriel ColleKe: Canon of Rochester. Hon. Canon of St Mary^s Cathedral, | *™"^"""'"* 
Edmbuxgb. Formeny Fellow of Magdalen College, Oxford. I 

G. B. ■. George Ballard Matbsws, M.A., F.R.S. f 

Professor of^Mathematio, University^Collqje of N. Wales, Bangor, I884-1896. i HunilNr. 



ALKER MOTT, l-.K.S., M.LI., l-.K-C.**. f ^ .^ « _,.. 

to Charing Cross Hospital, London. Patholofpst to the London County J munlgia; HeimgOMIlla; 
FuUerian Professm' 01 Physiology, Royal Institutioa, Editor of Arckioes \ MoiirOPatllOlOKf. 

I 



Formeriy Fellow of St John's College, Cambridge. 

VirtArla. pAmukrlv RHttAr An«l 

NSW Sonfli WakK Hittoryi 



G. C L. Gborce Collins Levey. C.M.G. 

Member of Board of Advice to Agent-Genera! for Victoria. Formeriy Editor and 
Proprietor of the Melbourne Herald. Secretary, Colonial Committee of Royal Com- ' 
mission to Paris Exhibition, IQOO. Secretaiy to Commissioners for Victoria at the 
Exhibitions in London, Paris, Vienna, Philadelphia and Melbourne. 

O.Si Ksv. George EDinmDsoN, M.A., F.R.Hist.S.  

Formerly Fellow and Tutor of Brasenose College, Oxford. Fordli Lecturer, 1900^ J n .. - -^ 
1910. Employed by British Government in preparation of the British Case in the 1 ■•«"wIW"B» 
British Guiana- Venezuelan and British Guiana-Brazilian Boundaxy Arbitrations. \ 

G. F. H.* George Francts Hill, M.A. r 

Assutant in the Department of Coins, British Museum. Corresponding Member of J w ,,miMi>«*i |n 
the German and Austrian Archaeological Institutes. Author of Coins of Ancient \ "* 

Sicily; Historical Greek Coint\ Histortcal Roman Coins; &c L 

G. H. Bo. Rev. George Herbert Box, M.A. f 

Rector of Sutton Sandy, Bedfordshire.. Lecturer in Faculty of Theology, Uni- J ff^f piin, 
versity of Oxford, 190^1909. Author of Skort Introduction to Literature ejikt OH \ 
Testament; &c. I 

G. H. CL George Herbert Carpenter, B.Sc. (Lend.). f^ , 

Professor of Zoology in the Ruyal College of Sdenoe, Dublin. Author of Insects: < HMIfttpUM. 
their Structure and Life, [ 

G. J. T. George James Turner. f 

Barrister-«t-Law, Lincoln's Inn. Editor of SdeU Pleat ef the Parens for the SeMen \ HortliamylaiW Mto oL 
Society. I 

G. K. G. Grove Karl Gilbert. LL:D. 




G* W. T. Itsv. GRirriTHES Wheeler Thatcher. M.A., B.D. 



\va^ra oTSmdeTcSiiie' Sydney, k.S.W.*' Formeriy Tutor in Hebrew and Old J P^!5 ™*'*S?^ 
Testament History at Mansfield College. Oxford. \ ■AWiWi; Hosairil. 

H. A. G. Herbert Afpold Grueber, F.S.A. r 

Keeperof Coins and Medals. British Museum. Treasurer of the Egypt Exploration I ^ ^. .. a 

Fund. Vice-President of the Royal Numismatic Society. Author of Onns of the \ Mamlimitlfli (m parQ* 
Raman RefiiMUii &c. \ 

H.Ch. Hugh Chisholv, M.A. fllktfoiial Datat (in «AtV 

Formeriy Scholar of Corpus Chrisri Coflege. Oxford. Editor of the lith edition of 4 S*-^!nJf ^^^' 

the Encyclopaedia Britannica; Co-editor at the loth edition. [ new^span. 

H. D. T. H. Dennis Taylor. / -^ki^^^. 

Inventor of the Cooke Photographic Lenses. Author of A System ef Applied Optics, \ UDjecnw. 

H. B» Karl Hermann Eth£, M.A., Ph.D. 

Professor of Oriental Languages. Univernty College. Aberystwyth (Univernty of , 
Wales). Author of Catalogue of Persian Mannurtpts in the India Office L^rary, 



London (Clarendon Press) ; &c 



HUr Khosn; 
Hliinfl. 



J.A.H. 



{ 




INITIALS AND HEADINGS OF ARTICLES ix 

B.F.tt» Hams Frieouch Gadow, F.R'.S., Pb.D. fMUMiMflMi* w^^m mJ r^jjm». 

ScikkhodCuntorandUctuiwooZoologyitttlieUiiivmityorCainl^^ Aitdiori w"™" " " ' W«»«i*C«IW». 
cC'* Amphibia and Repdles." in the OmM^A^Avo^ I <•««- 

Bi F. ?• Hembt FkANCB Pelham, LL.b., D.C.L. / wmw-'Mtw 

See the biogiaphiaa article: PKLHAM, Hbnet Fbakos. \"«v» owb. 

Bi L BL Hams Lien Bsaekstad. f 

Vice-Consul for Nonniy hi London. Author o£ He Cnuffihitfni <^ II0 JTAtfrfoNi o/S Honraj: SiMory, i8t4'tgof* 
Jfffiwayi Ac* ^ 

H. M. Q Sectox Mointo CHia>wxcK, M.A. 

Libcariaa and Fellow of Clare Collen, Cambridge, and Univennty Lecturer m 
Scandinavian. Author of Shtdm cm AnifoStxau I n s tUut u mu 

B. ■. IL Bzmv Morse Stephens, M.A. f 

BaOiol Colkce. Oxford. Profeseor of History and Director of Univenity Eztenrion, J ManfcM^ //« aaA 
Univernty of California. Author of History ef tk§ FHntk lUtohitwmi Uoderm] """"^ Vm fWA 
&iropeaM History; &c. l> 

fl.H.T. Henky Maettn Tayior. M.Am F-R-S., F.RAS. f 

FeHov of Trinity College. Cambridge: formerly Tutor and Lectmw. Smith** "f I^Wton, Sir 
Priaeman, 1865. Editor of the Pitt Prem £acftd. I 

B.B.a 

B. B. IL Hugh Robert Mill, D.Sc., LL.D. 

Director of British Rainfall Oreanization. Formeriy Pnddeot of the Royal 
Meteorologicai Society. Hon. Member of Vienna Gcogiaphical Society. Hon. 
Corresponding Member of Geographical Societies of Paris, Beriin, Budapest, St . 
PetersDuig, Amsterdam, Ac British Delegate to International Conference on the 
Exploration of the Sea at Christiania, 1901. Author of Tkt Roaim tj Natwti Tkt 
Ojdo Sea Am; The Eng^sk Laktsi Tk§ Inttmo H oiu l Ctevapky, Editor of 
British XainfalL 

A^^i^idoUiThMM;ntIdoa<ifaPh$CkMnkiPvsomUIdeaiism. ^MotBtaMSkm; lomaMMO. 

B. W. CL Dl Henry Wiluam Carless Davis. M.A. f 

FeOov and Tutor of Balliol College. Oxford. FeOov of An Souls' College, Oxford, -I BulainfhS *^*»'-» 
1895-1902. Author of England under tho Norwums and it iifmm ; CharUmapu, \^ 

B. Wy« mjoR-GsKERAL Henry Wylie, CS.I. f 

Oflkiating Agent to the Govemor-Genexal of Li^ for Balnchiitan. l89S-i9oa < JUftH (M part). 
Resident at Nepal, 1891-1900. (. 

B. W« B.* Rev. Henry Wheeler RobinsOn. M.A. f 

Prof ess or of Church History in Rawdon College, Leeds. Senior Kennicott Scholar, J ^.. _» ..._ ,. ^^.\ 
Oxford, 1901. Author of '* Hebrew Psychology in Relation to Pauline Anthrop- 1 "■■•"■ V«» f^rt). 
ology ,'* in Mansfield College Essays ; &c I 

L A. Uiael Abrahaks, MA. f lfafhimmW«: 

Reader in Talmudic and Rabbinic Literature, University of Cambridge. Presidettt, J «•«•*•• 
Jewish Historical Society of England. Author of A Short History tf Jewish Litera- 1 ^^T** 
inre;JemishUfe in the Middle Agu. l"**>- 

JL A*CL Snt Joseph Archer Crowe, K.C.M.G. f » — »«_ n^ ti^-At^A 

See the biographical artldi: Crowe, Sir JosBniARCHBL ^Thn, Yi^ ^ {dt parth 

John Allen Howe, B.Sc. (Lond.). f ignielialkalk* 

Curator and Librarian of the MuseiuB of Pnctkal Geology, London. Author of -i ^^ ~ » 
The Geology of Building Stones, (^ MeoeomlllL 

John Aibelstan Laitrie Rhey, M.A. / »«.inH>iM fi^ ju^'s 

FtaibrolwCollege,Oxfoid. Authorofi4iftM,erll0ir0MiiaM<;fiA«JI/MJb:ftc. \*tsianMm {,tH pan). 

Rev. Jahes Alexander Paterson, M.A.. D J>. f _. . «» 1. • 

Professor of Hebrew and Old Testament Exegesis. New College, Edinburgh. Editor -{ mUBMII* BOOK OL 
of Booh of Numbers in the " Polychrome " Bible; Ac L 

J. O, BL James David Bourcuier, M.A^ F.R.G.S. r 

King's College, Cambridge. Correspondent of The Times in Sooth-Eastem Europe. I RlellollS (JtMg 0/ MoHtO' 



Commander pf_the Orders jof Prince Danilo of Montenegro and of the Saviour of | negro). 



IttHii do Ano. 



Greece, and Officer of the Order of St Alexander of Bulgaria. 

J.F.-Si jAMES FnZMAURICE-KELLY, LITT.D., F.R.HIST.S. f 

Gilmour Professor of Spanish Language and Uterature, Liveipool Univernty. 
Norman McCoIl Lecturer, Cambridge university. Fellow of the British Academy. 
Member of the Royal Spanish Academy. Knieht Commander of the Order of 
Alphonso XII. Author 01 A History of Spanish Literature; &c 

1.BL JOBN HOLLINC8HEAO (1827-1904). f 

Founder of the Gaiety Theatre, London. Member of Theatrical liceneing Reform < Bole fltlb. 
Committee, 1 866 and 1 892. Author of Gaiety Chronieles ; Ac L 

1. H. F. John Henry Freese, M.A. f "*??•• ^^* •"^ ^^^•"** 

Fonneily Fellow oir St John's College, Cambridge. i Names; 

^ ^ If orteum. 

JL H. ■• John Henry Middleton, M.A., Lrrr.D., FS.A., D.C.L. (1846-1896). 

Slade Prof essor of Fine Art in the University of Cambridge, 1886-1895. Director 



of the Fttxwilliam Museum, Cambridge, 1889-1892. Art_Director^ of the^outh. 

tnor of 7*« ^"jP"" 
Jttuminated Manuscripts' in Classical and Mediaemd Times, 



Kemiiigton Museum, 1892-1896. Author of 7m Engraoed Gems of Classical Times; 



Banl DMontfon (In part); 
Mlollo. 



z 

J.HLB> 
J.Jft. 



INITIALS AND HEADINGS OF ARTICLES 



J.J.Lr. 
J. L. B. D. 

J.1L1L 
J.P.Flk 

X8L* 

J. 8. p. 
J.8.K. 

J.T.Be. 
J.T.O. 

J.W. 

J.W.* 
J110.W. 



I. W. 0* 



J.W.I..O. 



JOBM HOSACB ROUMD. M^., LLJ^. 

Author of F§miat Emjkiid; Studies m Peent' ami FtmUy 
Peiig^m, 

John Holland Rose, M.A., Lm.D. 



Puni^ amd 



verrity Local Lectures Syndicate. Author ol 
^mdits', Tkt D€9dopmtiU tf Ikt Emroptan Nations 



U/r «f Napoieom /., Napckomc 
lTh$L^S€f PiU; Ac 



Christ's Cdl^, Cambridge. Lecturer on Modern History to the Cambridfe Uni* 

£«/< of Nc ' 

JosKPH Jacobs. Litt-D. 

Professor 01 English Literature in the New York Jewish Theolorical Semuiary oT 
America. Formeriy President d the Jewish Historical Society of ^oelaod. Corre- 
monding Member of the Ro^ Acaoemy of History, Madrid. AucEor of Jems of 
Anttein Emgland; Studies m BibUcal Araueoleij; ftc« 

J08EFH Jacsson Lxstbk, M.A., F.R.S. 
Fellow of St John's College. Cambridge. 

John Louis Eiol Drzyek. 

Director of Annagh Observatory. Author of Plamelary Systems Jrwm Tkeles le 
Kepler; &c 

J. M. Brydon. 

Architect of Chelsea Town Hall and Polytechnic, Ac 

John Malcolm Mrcrell. 

Sometime Scholar of Queen's CoIIes^, Oxford. Lecturer in Claasio, East London 
College (University ocLondon). Jomt-editor of Grate's History t^ Greece. 

Rev. John Punnett Peteis. Ph.D., D.D. 

C^non Residentiary, P. E. Cathedral of New Yoric Formeriy P rofessor of Hebrew in 
the Univernty of Pennsylvania. Director of the Univernty Expedition to Babylonia, 
1888-1895. Author of Nippur, or ExptoratioHS oud Adeentmres ou tke Euphrates. 

Rev. James Sibree, F.R.G.S. 

Principal Emeritus, United College (L.MS. and F.F.M.A.),' Antananarivo, Mada- 
iscar. Member de I'Acadteiie Majgache. Author of Uadagaseor and its People; 
adagascar h^ore the Omquest; A Madagfucar BiUiogra^y; Ac 

Rev. John Sutbekland Black, M.A., LL.D. 

Assistant-editor of the 9th edition of the Eueydopaedia Bntannica. Joint-editor of 
the Eueydopaedia BiUiea. 

OBN Smxtb Flett, D.Sc., F.G.S. 

Petrographer to H.M. Geological Survey. Formeriy Lecturer on Petrology in 
Edinburgh University. Neill Medallist of the Royal Society of Edinbufgh. Btgsby 
Medallut of the Geological Society of London. 

OBN Scott. Keltie, LL.D., F.S.S., F.S.A. (Scot.). 

Secretary, Royal Geographical Society. Knight of Swedish Order of North Star. 
Commander of the Norwegian Order of St Olaf. Hon. Member, Oographical 
Societies of Paris, Beriin. Rome. Ac. Editor of Statesman's Ytar Booh. Editor of 
the Geographical JoumaL 

OBN Tbomas Bealby. 

Joint-author of Stanford's Europe. Formerly Editor of the Scottish Geographical 
Jiagasine. Translator of Sven Hedin's Through Asia, Central Asia and Tibet; Ac 

08EPH Tbomas Cunningham, M.A., F2.S. 

Lecturer on Zoology at the South-Westem Polytechnic, London. Formeriy 
Fellow of University College, Oxford. Assistant Professor of Natural History in 
the University of Edinburipi. Naturalist to the Marine Biological Association. 

AMES Thomson Sbotwell, Pb.D. 

Professor of History in Columbia University, New York Qtv 

AMES Williams, M.A., D.C.L., LL.D. 

All Soub* Reader in Ronian Law in the University of Ozfoid. and Fellow of Lincoln 
College. 

AMES WasD| LL.D. 

Sec the biographical article: Waro^ Jambs. 



gascar 
liadat 



cu ivinguuia oi intcrnanioiuu «..auiT oi /inncninon unucr uie na^e v^onveaiion, 

-1906. Author of A Treatise on Prieate international Lam. or the Conflia cf 
t; Chapters on the PrimdpUs of international Lami part L '' Pteace ": part it. 



&& 



ciBM Westlake. K.C., LL.D., D.C.L. 

Professor of International Law, Cambridge, 1888-1908. One of the Members for 
United Kingdom of International Court of Arbitration under the Hague Cbnventbn, 
i90O-iSf06. * * ' ' - • - • . - -. . 

tjtms; 
" War. 

OBN Walter Gregory, D.Sc., F.R.S. 

Professor of Geology at the University of Glasgow. P rof es sor of (jeology and 
Mineralogy in the Univenity of Melbottme, 1900-1904. Author of The Dead Heart 
of Auslralw; Ac 

AMES Whztbread Lee Glaisher, M.A., D.Sc., F.R.S. 

Fellow of Trinity CoUege, Cambridge. Formeriy President of the Cambridge 
Philosophical Society, and the Royal Astronomical Society. Editor of Messenger 
of MathematUs and the Quarterly Journal ef Pure amd Applied Mathematics. 

Kathleen Schleswcbr. 

Editor of the Ponfelio ef Musical Ardueology. Author of TU instrumenis ef the 
Orchestra. 



■tflllB iPomOy). 



Itipifltm L 



MslhiniB. 



ObswvBtoiy, 



Itaflsld. 

Ranonuy; 
VMVlatoiiism (m past). 

RsJef; 
RlRPor. 



RoMl-M. 



Hastorins (mi part), 

■ytonlto; Rapoleonfli; 
Reek; Rephelliie-Syeiiite: 
Repbeliiiites; ObsidisiL 

RalloDBl Debt (mi part). 

RIkolBliV (tM part); 
mshnij-Roviond (m part); 
Rovgofod (m part). 

Mnnel (ti» part); 

Rantilos; 

Oetopns. 

Meeker (in part). 



RavlfBtloB Ia«b. 



RMsnttBttaL 



Ifow Soiifh Wilis: Geotogyi 
Ifow ZeiliBd: Geeiogy, 



Rapier, JohB. 
MoiletlBoi; 

Rbq vioiiBr 

Hey; Oboe («fi ^orf). 



INITIALS AND HEADINGS OF ARTICLES >d 

IfcJ.S. LsoNABD James Spences, MA. rMTOflBTlte* 

Assistant ia Departinent of Mineralogy, British Miueooi. Formerly Scholar of J ■..i.^n.^ ' 
Sidney Sussex CoUege, Cambridge, and HarkncM Scholar. Editor of the Mtnera- i "f^"^* 



■.Ja. 


1LK.T. 


K. 


ir.D.lL 


0. J. k. H. 



as. 



ioguat Magashu, [_ KIOOOHf0w 

L. B. F. Lswis RiCBABO Fasnexx, M.A., Lrrr.D. r 

Fellow and Senior Tutor of Exeter College, Oxfocd Univenity Lecturer in Claseica] J . 
Archaeology; Wilde Lecturer in Comparative Religion. Corresponding Member 1 
of Imperial German Archaeological Institute. Author oi Emdutiom of Raigion; Ac L 

L. v.* LUICI ViLLASI. r 

Italian Foreign Office (Emigration Dept.). Formeriy Newspaper Correspondent J -._,^ ■«— j ^ 
b East of Europe. Italian Vice-ConsuI in New Orieans, 1906. Philadelphia, 1907, i M^PiMi lUlliaOIB flL 
and Boston, U.SA., 1907-1910. Author of Italian Life in Town and Commtryi &c. t 

Ifc W. K. Leonaed WauAii King, M.A., F.S.A. r 

King's Collen. Cambridge. AssisUnt in Department of Egyptian and Assyrian J wimmv ta* jw..— jt.^— .^« 

AntKjuitiesTBritish Museum; Lecturer in As^n at King's College and Undon 1 «'W"« ^*« ^WiJge Pragment, 
University. Author of Tkt Seven Tabkts of Creaiion; Ac I 

Mouus Jasteow, Pr.D r«*iiA- «-r»mi wtMHi* 

Professor of Semitic Languages. Univenity of Ptonsylvania. Author of Rdigion < 2 "t. ^I?^* ' 

of the BabyhnuMS and Assynam; &c. I "OSku; OaniMS. 

Mabcus Niebubr Tod, M.A. r 

Fellow and 'Tutor d Oriel College, Oxford. Univenity Lecturer in Epigraphy. < Vtoarellla. 
Joint-author of Catalogue of tke Sparta Musenm. [ 



Mempapen: Price of News- 
papers^ 



TsB Rt. Hon. Losd Noktbcuffe. 

Founder of the l>aily Mail; Chief Proprietor of The TimeSt and other papers and , 
periodicals. Chairman of the Associated Newspapen, Ltd., and the Amalgamated 
Press, Ltd. 

Newton Dennison Mereness, A.M., Ph.D. f ««. yuA fim hnw/\ 

Author of Maryland as a Proprietary Prooince, \ "" ^•" '*^"' 

OSBERT John RaDCUTFE HoWARTB, M.A. f «iir_a«* C^am^aVu ^mJ 

Christ Church. Oxfocd. Geographical Scholar. 1901. Assistant Secretary of the i ^^i^T^^^ 
British Association. I otanutcs» 



Professor S^'Ceoiraphy In the University of Kiel, and Lecturer in the Imperial j ^^^rt*"* OMMOgn^ (in 
Naval Academy. Author of Handbnch der Oteanographie. I F^U* 

New SIMrhi Arehipebigo; 
F. A. K. PsDfCE Fvter Alexeivitcr Kropotkin. 

See the biographical article: Krofotun, Prince P. A. 



NlkolayfV(ifi^/); 
Nlihniy-MovgofOd (in part); 
Kovgorod (tn part), 

MyroiL 



P. G. Percy Gardner, LL.D.. Lrrr.D., F.S.A.. 

See the biographical article: Garombr, Percy. 

F. €L Pbter Giles, M.A., LL.D., Litt.D. r 

Fellow and Classicai Lecturer of Emmanuel College, Cambridge, and University J H* 
Reader in Comparative Philology. Formeriy Secretary of the Cambridge Philo* | 0. 
logical Society. Author of Manual of ComparaHoe Pkilologj, I 

F. C S. Paul George Konody. f 

Art Critic of the Observer and the DaUy MaU. Formeriy Editor of Tke ArtisL i Heer, Van der (in paH). 
Author of Tke Art of Walter Crane ; Velasquez, Life and Work \ Ac. I 

F. Lk * Philip Lake, M.A., F.G.S. f 

Lecturer on Phyncal and Regional Geography in Cambridge University. Formerly J «,■ ,_ pi..„v^i a«^-.« al,. 

of the Geological Survey of India. Author of Monog^rapk of BrUuk Cambrian] ■"'*y« Pkystcal Geography, 
Trilobites. Translator and Editor of Keyser's Comparattoe CeMogy. L 

B. A. W. Robert Alexander Wabab, C.6., C.M.G., CLE. f 

Colonel, Royal Engineers. Formerly H.M. Commissioner, Aden Boundaiy De-J ||§Mi 
limitation, and Superintendent, Survey of India. Served with Tirah Expeditionary 1 ^^ 
Force, i897>i898; Anglo-Russian Boundary Commission, Pamirs, 1895; &c. I 

B. C. T. Sir Richard Carnac Temple, Bart., CLE. r 

Lieut.-Colonel. Formeriy Chief Commissioner, Andaman and Nicobar Islands. Hon.s RloolMr T«fa«^ 
Fellow of Trinity Hall, Cambridge. Joint-author of Andamanese Language; &c. [ 

B. G. Richard Garnett, LL.D., D.C.L. / Mewmjui, Vta&eb Wmiun; 

See the biographical article: Garnstt. Richard. \ Xewtoa, Sir C. T. 

B. J. IL Ronald John MacNeill. M.A. f 

Christ Church, Oxfora. Barrister-at-Law. Formeriy Editor of the 5i( James's < Homy. Lord Geoife. 
Gosettr, Lond<m. 1, 

B. L.* Richard Lydekxes, M.A., F.R.S., F.G.S., F.Z.S. 

Member of the Staff 01 the Geological Survey of India, l874'l882. Author of. 
Cdtalorue of Fossil Mammals, Reptiles and Birds in BriHsk Museum; Tke Deer 
of AU Lands; Tke Game Animals of Africa; Ac. 



HonfJRe; 
Husk Oi; 
KylodoiL 



B. Ia* Robert Latouche. f 

Archivist of the department of Tarn et Garonne. Author of Histoire dm comtS du -< NonnsildF* 



Maine auX.etau XI. sikcle. 



S?" 



i 



Xll 



INITIALS AND HEADINGS OF ARTICLES 



av.B. 



R.8.& 

as. P. 

B.S.T. 
8.A.C. 



sta 

8.H.V.* 
8.K. 

8.1. 



T.A.C. 

T.A.L 
T.A.J. 

T.B». 



T.Ra 


T.H. 


T.H-H.^ 


T.ILI.. 


T.W.B.a 



V. 



RoBEST Nbbet Bain (d. igog). 

AnisUnt Librarian,. British Muteam, 188A-1909. Author of Scandinana: the 
PUUical History of Denmark^ Norway and Sweden^ t<tt-igoo\ Tkt First Romanots, > 
J6i3~t7i<( : Slapouic Europe: Ike Politick History of Pokund amd Russia from i4(Hf 

tOMTfiOiStC. 

Sol Robext Staweu Ball, F.R.S., LL.D. 

Lowndean Professor of Astronomy and Geometry. Univeruty of Cambridec. , 



nUudj; mama, Btaa; 
Kkon. 



Mibular Thtotf. 



i MnmlniaUa (m par(^. 



Director of the Cambridge Observatory and Fellow of King's College. Royal 
Astrooomer of kdand, i874-i89a. Author of The Story of the Heaoens; &c 

Rbginald Stvakt Poolb, LL.D. 

See the biosraphiol article: Pools, Rbcmald Stuakt. 

Ralph STOcxicAif Tabs. f 

Professor of Physical Geography. Cornell University. Special Field Assistant of the < M«W York (tn parO. 
VS. ^Geologiaa Survey. Author of Pkyskal Geopapky of Hem York SlaU. L 

SlAlfLBY AkTHXTB COOK, M^ 

Lecturer in Hebrew and Syriac, and formeriy Fellow, Gonville and Caius College. 
Cambridge. Editor for the Palestine Exploration Fund. Examiner in Hebrew and 
Aramaic. London University, 1904-1908. Council of Royal Asiatic Society, 1904- ' 
1905. Author of Gtossary of Aramaic Inscriptions ; TTu Law of Moses and the Code of 
Hammurabi; Critkal HoUs o» Old Testament History; Rdigjum of Ancient 
Palestine \ &c. 



Naftataeans (m pari^i 
Maiaiite (m parti. 



{ 



ViscoxmT St Cyres. 

See the biographical article, iDDBSLEroB, ist Earl of. 

Sydney Howabd Vimes, M.A., D.Sc., F.R.S., F.L.S. f 

Professor of Botany in the Univeraty of jOxford. Fellow of Magdalen College, J 

" *^l 



Mkola^ 



Oxford. 
London. 



Hon. Fellow of Christ's College. Cambridge. Fellow of the University 
Author of Stwdonfi Text Book of Botany; Ac 



KaagalL 



Sten Konow, Ph.D. 

Professor of Indian Philology in the University of Christiania. Ofikier de 1* Acadtoie \ Mimdii. 
Francaise. ' " ' " "" " . — - 



lie J 



ncaise. Author of Stamaoidkaua Bralmana\ T%e Karpuramas^jari; Munda I 
and Draeidiau, I 



SncoN Newcomb, D.Sc., LL.D. 

See the biographical article: Nebtcomb. SmoK. 

THOMAS AsBBY, M.A., LrxT.D. 

Director of British School of Anchaeoli 



•f KeptiiiM {Planet), 



Formeriy Scholar of Christ 
^uu.wH. li^Miwtu. ^laTKu A «iiHri*, svyf • vATuiuB^vii M. ttaitmuit 1906. Member of the 
Imperial Gernuin Archaeological Institute. Alithor of The Classical Topogra^y of 
the Roman Campama. 



Noffv at Rome. 
Church, Oxford. Craven Fellow, 1897. Conington Prizeman, 1906. Member of the 



TmOTTBY AuCirSTXNE COCBLAN, I.S.O. 
Agent-General for New South Wales. 



Government Statistidan, New South Wales. J *•« 800II1 WiIm: 



h 



Manomisb Laeos; Rayl; 
Nola; MoBMBtana, Via; 
NoBieBtum; Hora; Norba; 
Hovaia; Huoaria AUateroa; 
Mnon. 



1886-190^. Author of Wealth and Progress of Hew South Wales ; Statistical Account | Geography and Slatistku 
of Au^ralia and Hew Zea l a nd ; Ac* ^ 



TtoOMAS Allan Incsam. M.A., LLJ). 
Trinity College, Dubun. 



{Mane: Law; 
OctroL 



Comaii- 



I Heo-Caesana, 9yD0d oL 
I Kanas {Roman General). 



TtoOMAS Atbol Joyce, M.A. f 

Assisunt in Department of Ethoognphy, Britlah Museum. Hon. Sec. Anthropo- < M^ro {in part), 
logical Society. I 

Sib Thomas Barclay. riiMtraiitv 

Member of the Institute of International Law. Member of the Supreme Council of I C " ^^ ^_ ^._^._ 
the Congo Free State. Officer of the Legion of Honour. Author of Problems of \ nortn Saa nmarM 
Intemattonal Practice and Diplomacy; &c M.P. for Blackburn. 1910. \ tlOB. 

TtoEoooRE Freylinchuysen Coluer, Ph.D. 

Assistant Professor of History, Williams College. Williamstown, Mi 

TtoouAS HoDCKiN. LL.D.. Lrrr.D. 

See the biographical article: HoocKiN. Thomas. 

Sn Thomas Hungerpord Holdxch, K.C.M.G., K.C.I.E., D.Sc., F.R.S. f Maseal; 

Colonel in the Ro^l Engineers. Superintendent. Frontier Surveys, India, 1893- J Nortll-Wast VtODtkr PlO* 
1898. Gold Medallist, R.G.S. (London), 1887. H.M. Commissioner for the Perso- 1 «|immi 
Beluch Boundary, 1896. Author of The Indian Borderland; The CaUs of India ; &c. I ^™*"* 

Rev. Thomas Martin Lindsay, M.A., D.D. f 

Principal and Professor of Church History. United Free Church College, Glasgow, i Oeeam, WUDam oL 
Author of Life of Luther ; Ac. L 

T&omas Wiluam Rhys Davtos, LL.D., Ph.D. 

Professor of Comparative Religion, Manchester University. President of the Pali 
Text Society. Fellow of the British Academy. Secretary and Librarian of Royal 
Asiatic Society. 1885-1903. Author of Buddhism: Sacred Boohs of the Buddhtsis; 
Early Buddhism; Buddhist India; Dialogues of the Buddha; &c 



Hidrjona; MlUya. 



Victor Charles MAnaLON. 

Principal of the Conservatoire Royal de Masque at BruMeli. 
Legion of Honour. 



{■ 



Chevalier of the \ ObM {in part). 



INITIALS AND HEADINGS OF ARTICLES 



xUi 



W.A.B.a 



W.A.F. 
W.BL 

W.B.O. 
W.F.C. 
W.F.B. 

W.F.W. 



w.a* 

W.ILBe. 

W.ILF. 
W.ILP. 

W.J.IL 

W.LF. 



W.X.D. 

W.H.B. 
W.aiL 

W.F.R. 



Rev. WxLZJAii Aucustos Bxkvoobt Cooudgb, M.A., F.R.G.S.. Pa.D. (Bern). 
Fellow ol Magdalen CoUwe. Oxford. Profenor of English History. St David's 
College, Lampeter. 1880-1881. Author of Guids dm Haut Dampkini; The Rongji of, 
Ikt T6di: Gmdt to Grinddwaid: Gmdo la SwiturUuid'. The Alps in Natwre and in ^ 
History; Ac Editor of The Alpino Jonrnat, 1880-1881 ; Ac 

WaLTEK AllSON PRZLLIFS, M.A. 

Formerly &dut»tioner of Merton Colkgie and Senior Scholar of St John's G>lleget 
Oxford. Author of Modem Emrope; &c, 

William Blaxm, C.B. (d. 1908) 

Principal Cleric and First Treasury Officer of Aooottnti* 1903-1908. 

Walter Csane. 

Scethebiognphicalazticle: Cranb. Waltbe. 

Sn William Edmumd Garstin. G.C.M.G. 

Govemii» Director, Sues Canal Co. Formerly Inspector-General of Irrigation, 
Egypt. Adviser to the Ministry of Public Works in Egypt, I904-'I908. 

William Feuoem Csaies. M.A. 

Barristcr-at-Law, Inner Temple. Lecturer on Criminal Law, IGng't CbllMsei 
London. Editor of Aichbold's CrtsBMo/ Pieodi^f (aaid edition). 

William Fidoiam Reddaway, M.A. 

Censor of Noo-CoUqnate Students, Cambridce. Fellow and Lecturer of King's 
College. Author of ^Scandinavia." in Vol. £ of the Cambridts Modern History. 

Walter Francis Wnxcox, LL.B., Pb.D. 

Chief Sutistidan, Umted States Ctasus Bureau. Professor of Sodal Science and 
Statistics. Cornell UniversitY. Member of the American Social Sdenoe Association 
and Secretary of the American Economical Association. Author of The Dioorce 
ProUem: A ^udy in Statistics; Social Statislics of tkc United States ; &c 

Waixx)t Gibson, D.Sc., F.G.S. 

H.M. Geological Survey. Author of The Gotd-Bearint Rocks of the S. TVonisaaf; 
Mineral Wealth of Africa; The Geology of Coal and Coal-wuning; &c 

Rev. William Henry Bennett, M.A., D.D.. D.Litt. 

P ro feasot of Old Testament Exegesis in New and Hadcney Colleges, London. 
Formeriy Fellow of St John's College, Cambridge: Lecturer in Hebrew at Firth 
College. Sheffield. Author of Religion of the Post-Exilic Proi4ids; &c 

Sn William Henry Flower. F.R^. 

Sec the biogra^phical article: Flower. Sir W. H. 

Walter Herries jcolloce. M.A. 

Trinity College, Cambridse. Editor of Satnrday Review, 1883-1894. Author of 
LeUmres on French Poets; Impressions of Henry Irving; Ac 

WnxiAM Jacob Holland, A.M.. D.D., LL.D.. D.Sc.. Pb.D. 

Director of the Carnegie Institute, Pittsbun President of the American Association 
of Museums, 1907-1909. Editor of Annau and Memoks of CameB^ Museum. 

Walter Lynwood FtXMOVO, A.M.. Ph.D. 

Professor of History in Louisiana State University^ Author of Docnmentary 
History rf Roconstmetion; dcc^ 

William Lawson Grant, M.A. 

Professor of Colonial History, Queen's Ui^verrity. IQnraton, Canada. Formerly 
Beit Lecturer in Colonial History, Oxford University. Editor of AOs of the Privy 
CMMof (Canadian Series). 

WmiAM MORRB. 

See the biographical article: Morris, WaUAM. 

WmxAM Morris Davis, D.Sc., Pb.D. 

Professor of Geology in Harvard University. Fonneriy Professor of Phyrical 
GeogF^)hy. Author of Physical Geography; &c. 

WnxiAM Micbael Rossettl 

See the biographical article: Rossbtti. Dante G. * 

WxuiAM O'Connor Morris (d. i904>. 

Fonneriy Judge of County Courts, Ireland ; and Professor of Law to the King's 
Inns, Dublin. Author 01 Greal Commandefs iff Modem Times; Irish History; 
Irelandt 1708-1898; Ac. 

The Hon. William Pember Reeves. 
Director of London Schoc 
for New Zealand, 1896-1909. Minister 



MSQdlitBl 



Mont; NlbdnafnilM; 
mBbOnL {of Russia). 



RtlloDBl IMM: 

{imparO. 



Convershnt 



Mmal Disontloa (m paiij, 
MOe (m parO, 



MonfaasuMB; 
ObMBiiitF. 



History, 130^-1814, 



llBKro iUnitoi SlaUs), 



XaiBi: Ceoiogy, 



RUiirod; 



BanrbiL 



MllBMt, AlbBddB. 



of 



RulIUlBation. 



Rbw BmBSVtek {Canada). 



Hani Disontloa (•• pari). 



Hortti 



MnriDB. 



0*OoiiiibO» *^»^>i 



Director of London School of Economics. Agent-General and High Commissioner 

1009. Minister of Education, Labour, and Justice. New 
Zealand. 1891-1896. Author of The Long White Cloud: a History of New Zealand; 



Mm ZsilBiid. 



W.S.S.B, 



WnxiAM RiCBARD Eaton Hodoeinson, Ph.D., F.R.S. (£din.), F.C.S. f 

Prafeasor of Chemistry and Physics. Ordnance College, Woolwich. Formerly J H ltwl fSBT t lL 
Professor ol Chemistry and Physics, R.M.A., Woolwich. Pkrt-author of Valentin- I "'""•^'^ 
Hodgkinsoo's Practice Chemistry; &c I 



W.ILH, 
W.B.1L* 

W.B.8. 
W.8.1L 
W.T.A. 

W. w. a* 



INITIALS AND HEADINGS OF ARTICLES 



WnxjAM RicHAso Mosmx, M^ (d. 1910). 

Fonnerty Profowr of RuBrian and other Slavonic Languages !n tiie Univenlty 
OxfonL Curator of the Taytorfan Inititutiont Oxford. Author of Xussia; Skwotuc 
LitertttuniStc 

WiLLiAX Robert Maitin. 

Captain, R.N. Formerly Lecturer at the Royal Naval College, Gieenwich. Author •{ VaflglUIOB. 
of ZVcotiM ou Namiolicu and NaiitiaU Astronomy; &c 

Natetaeans {in part); 
WnxiAK RoBEKTSON SiOTB, LL.D. J Hatartto (m part); 

See the biographical article: SmitBi WOUAM RoBBRTaoN. 






WxuiAic Syiunoton M'Couock, M.A., LL.D. 



MmiMral; 
Obadlah (m part). 



Trust of the Scottish Universities. Formerly Professor •{ OeelBVt. 



Secretary to the Carnegie Trust of the Scottish Universities. Formerly Prof 
of English, Univenity College, Dundee. Author of Lectnns on Ldteratnre; &c 



{• 



Wauzr Talxmadoe Abmdt, M.A. j ■•• ^M* (»» ^«*)' 

WnXIAX WaIXBR ROCKWBXX, LicThEOL. / — CMMlla «ff 

AasiataotFrafessor of Chuich History. Union Theological Seminary. New York. X"™*^ OOUMUi «L 



PRINCIPAL UNSIGNED ARTICLES 



UmUb. 


Htmaslto, Dnkat oL 


Mlee. 


MotthlUola. 


Hand. 


Reweaitld-apoii-iyiia. 


MlekeL 




HmatofL 


Vew BnglaDd. 


MlghtlBgale, FlorBiiea. 


DnkM oL 


■mBTOOIB* 


Mew Gnliiea. 


MlllMi. 


Morthnmbeilral 


■ottlattoo. 


Mm HampghliB. 


Mttro-Compoiiiida. 


MorwIelL 


MlBoia. 


Mew HehrtdM. 


Mltrogen. 


MoWngham. 


Manlmii. 


Mew Jeney. 


Motfolk» Bull and DakM 


MottlnghamihlPi. 


ManottoB. 


Mew Meileo. 


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Motaja ZMBlia. 


Madivnto. 


Mew OrleaUk 


Morfolk. 


MuremlMfff. 


KaMML 


Mew York Qtf. 


Mofthaiiiptoiw Bull and 


Manlnc. 


MeteaikB. 


Mef. 


Marqnenei of. 


Mat 


llBfada. 


Mlaiik>Mlain. 


MorthaDptoBihlio* 


Oak. 


Hbw CaiadoDta. 


Wfitn^uu 


Morfh Ganlloa. 


Oataiilltia. 



ENCYCLOPAEDIA BRITANNICA 



ELEVENTH EDITION 



VOLUME XIX 



HUH, ADRIEN ALBERT MARIB DB, Count (1841- ), 

French politician, was born at Lumigny, in the department of 

Seine-et-Manie, on the 28th of February 1841. He entered the 

army, saw much service in Algeria (i86a), and took part in 

the fighting around Metz in x87a On the surrender of Metz, 

he was sent as a prisoner of war to Aix-Ia-Chapelle, whence he 

r et mue d in time to assist at the capture of Paris from the 

Commone. A fervent Roman Catholic, he devoted himself 

to advocating a patriarch type of Christian Socialism. His elo- 

qneiKe made him the most prominent member of the Cerdes 

Catholiqucs d'Ouvriers. and his attacks on Republican social 

policy at last evoked a prohibition from the minister of war. 

He thereupon resigned his commission (Nov. 1875), and in the 

following February stood as Royalist and Catholic candidate 

for Pontivy. The influence of the Church was exerted to secure 

his election, and the pope during its progress sent him the order 

of St Gregory. He was returned, but the election was declared 

invalid. He was re-elected, however, in the following August, 

and for many years was the most conspicuous leader of the 

anti-Republican party. " We form," he said on one occasion, 

*' the irreconcilable Countcr-Revolution." As far back as 1878 he 

had declared himself opposed to imiversal suffrage, a declaration 

that lost him his seat from 1879 to x88i. He spoke strongly 

against the expulsion of the French princes, and it was chieffy 

through his influence that the support of the Royalist party was 

given to General Boulanger. B ut as a faithful Catholic he obeyed 

the encydical of 1892, and declared his readiness to rally to a 

Republican government, provided that it re^>ected religion. 

In the following January he received from the pope a letter 

comnxxuling his action, and encouraging him in his social 

reforms. He was defeated at the general election of that 

year, but in 1894 was returned for Finistere (Morlaix). In 

idQ7 be succeeded Jules Simon as a member of the French 

Academy. This honour he owed to the purity of style 

and remarkable eloquence of his speeches, which, with a few 

pamphlets, form the bulk of his published work. In Ma voca- 

tian socraU (1908) be wrote an explanation and justification of 

his career. 

iroif, THOMAS (1571-1641), English writer on economics, 
was the third son of John Mim, mercer, of London. He began 
by engaging in Mediterranean trade, and afterwards settled 
down in London, amassing a large fortune. He was a member 
of the committee of the East India Company and of the standing 
commission on trade appointed in 1622. In 1621 Mun published 
A Disantrse of Trade from Engfand unto the East Indies. But 
it is by his En^ond's Treasure by Forraign Trade that he is 



remembered in his history of economics. Although written 
possibly about 1630, it was not given to the public until 1664, 
when it was " published for the Common good by his son John," 
and dedicated to Thomas, earl of Southampton, lord high 
treasurer. In it we find for the first time a clear statement of 
the theory of the balance of trade. 

MUNCHAU8BN, Bakon. This name is famous in literaxy 
history on account of the amusingly mendadous stories known as 
the Adventures oj Baron Munchausen* In 1785 a little shilb'ng 
book of 49 pages was pubb'shed in London (as we know from the 
Critical Review for December 1785), called Baron Munchausen's 
Narrative of his Marvdlous Travds and Campaigns in Russia. 
No copy is known to exist, but a second edition (apparently 
identical) was printed at Oxford early in 1786. The publisher 
of both these editions was a certain Smith, and he then sold it 
to another bookseller named Kearsley, who brought out ia 
1786 an enlarged edition (the additions to which were stated in 
the 7th edition not to be by the original author), with illustra- 
tions under the title of CiUliver Revived: the Singular Travels, 
Campaigns, Voyages, and Sporting Adventures of Baron Munnih- 
houson, commonly pronounced Munchausen; as he rdales them 
over a tn^tle when surrounded by his friends. Four editions 
rapidly succeeded, and a free German translation by the poet 
Gottfried August BQrger, from the fifth edition, was printed 
at Gdttingen in 1786. The seventh English edition (1793), 
which is the usual text, has the moral sub-title. Or the Viu of 
Lying properly exposed, and had further new additions. In 1 792 a 
Sequd appeared, dedicated to James Bruce, the African traveller, 
whose Travds to Discover the Nile (1790) had led to incredulity 
and ridicule. As time went on Munchausen increased in popu- 
larity and was translated into many languages. Continuations 
were published, and new illustrations provided (e.g. by T. 
Rowlandson, 1809; A. CrowquiU, 1859; A. Cruikshank, 1869; the 
French artist Richard, 1878; Gustave Dor6, 1862; W. Strang 
and J. B. Clark, 1895). llie theme of Baron Munchausen, 
the " drawer of the long-bow " par excellence, has become part 
of the common stock of the world's story-telling. 

The original author was at first unknown, and until 1824 
he was generally identified with BUrger, who made the German 
translation of 1786. But Burger's biographer, Karl von Rein- 
hard, in the Berb'n Gesellschafter of November 1824, set the 
matter at rest by stating that the real author was Rudolf Erich 
Raspe iq.v.). Raspe had apparently become acquainted at 
Gdttingen with Hieronymus Karl Friedrich, Freiherr von 
MUnchhausen, of Bodenwerder in Hanover. This Freiherr von 
MQnchhausen (17 20-1797) had been in the Russian service and 



MUNCH-BELLINGHAUSEN— MUNDAS 



served against the Turks, and on retiring in 1760 he lived on 
his estates at Bodenwerder and used to amuse himself and his 
friends, and puzzle the quidnuncs and the dull-witted, by 
relating extraordinary instances of his prowess as soldier and 
sportsman. His stories became a byword among hts drcle, 
and Raspe, when hard up for a living in London, utilized the 
suggestion for his little brochure. But his narrative owed much 
also to such sources, known to Raspe, as Hetnrich Bebel's 
Facetiae bebelianae (1508), J. P. LAnge's Ddkiae academicae 
(1665), a section of which is called Mendacia ridicula, 
Castiglione's Cortegiano (1528), the Travels of Ike FiftkenriUer, 
attributed to Lorenz von Lauterbach in the x6th century, and 
ot'uer works of this sort. Raspe can only be held responsible 
for the nucleus of the book; the additions were made by book- 
sellers* hacks, from such sources as Lucian*s Vera historian or 
the Voyages imaginaires (1787), while suggestions were taken 
from Baron de Tott's Memoirs (Eng. trans. i785)« the contem- 
porary aeronautical feats of Montgolfier and Blanchard, and any 
topical " sensations " of the moment, such as Bruce's explora- 
tions in Africa. Munchausen is thus a medley, as we have 
it, a Hfiw'"*! instance of the fantasUcal mendacious literaiy 
genre. 

See the introduction b^ T. Seccombe to Lawrence and Bullen's 
edition of 189^. Adolf Ellisen, whose father visited Freiherr von 
Munchhauaen in 1795 and found him very uncommunicative, brousht 
out a German edition in 1649. with a valuable essay on paeudolotfy 
in general. There is useful material in Cari MuUer-Fraureuth's ute 
deuUchen LUgendicktungen auf Munchhausen (i 881 ) and in Griesboch's 
edition of BQrger's translation (1890). 

KONCH-BBLUNGHAUSEN, EUGIUS FRAMZ JOSEPH. 

Freihesr von (1806-187 i), Austrian poet and dramatist (who 
wrote under the pseudonym " Friedrich Halm "), was bom at 
Cracow on the and of April 1806, the son of a district judge. 
Educated at first at a private school in Vienna, he afterwards 
attended lectures at the university, and in 1826, at the early 
age of twenty, married and entered the government service. 
In 1840 he became Rcgierungsrat, in 1845 Hofrat and custodian 
of the royal library, in 1861 life member of the Austrian Herren- 
haus (upper chamber), and from 1869 to 1871 was intendant 
of the two court theatres in Vienna. He died at Hatteldori 
near Vienna on the 22nd of May 1871. MUnch-Bellinghausen*s 
dramas, among them notably Criseidis (1835; publ. 1837; nth 
ed., 1896), Der Adept (1836; pubL 1838), Camoens (1838), Der 
Sokn der Wildnis (1842; loth ed., 1896), and Der Fechter von 
Ravenna (1854; publ. 1857; 6th ed., 1894), are distinguished by 
elegance of language, melodious versification and clever constmc- 
tion, and were for a time exceedingly popular. 

His poems, Cedickte, were published in Stungart, 1850 (new ed.i 
Vienna. 1877). His works, Sdmtiicke Werhe^ were published in 
eight volumes (1856-1864), to which four posthumous volumes were 
added in 187a. AusgewdhlU Werke, ed. by A. Schbssar, 4 vols. 
(1904). See F. Pachler. Jugend und Lekrjakre des Dichlers F. Halm 
(1877): J. Stmiani. Cedenkbl&Uer an F. Halm (1873)- Halm's 
correspondence with Enk von der Burg has been published by 
R. Schachinger (1890). 

MUNCIB. a dty and the cotmty-seat of Delaware county, 
Indiana, U.S.A., on the West Fork of the White river, about 
S7 m. N.E. of Indianapolis. Pop. (1880), 5210; (1890), 11,345; 
(1900) ao,942, of whom 1235 were foreign-bom; (19x0 census) 
24,005. It is served by the Central Indiana, the Chicago, 
Cincinnati & Louisville, the Cleveland, Cincinnati, Chicago & 
St Louis, the Pittsburgh, Cincinnati, Chicago & St Louis, the Fort 
Wayne, Cincinnati & LouisvUle, and the Lake Erie & Western 
railways, and by the Indiana Union Traction, the Dayton & 
Munde Traction, and the Munde & Portland Traction (electric 
inter-urban) railways. The dty is built on le\'el ground (altitude 
950 ft.), and has an attractive residential section. It is one 
of the prindpal manufacturing centres in Indiana, owing largdy 
to its situation in the natural gas bdt. In 1900 and in 1905 
it was the largest producer of glass and glassware in the 
United Sutes, the value of its product in 1905 bdng $2,344,462. 
Munde (named after the Munsee Indians, one of the three 
prindpal divisions of the Delawarcs) was settled about 1833 
and was chartered as a dty in 1865. 



MUNDiS. The Mundl {MutfdA) family is the least numerous 
of the linguistic families of India. It comprises several, dialects 
spoken in the two Chota Nagpur plateaux, the adjoining districts 
of Madras and the Central Provinces, and in the Mahadeo hills. 
The number of ^leakers of the various dialects, according to 
the census of 1901, are as follow: Santlll, i. 795.1 13; Mundirt, 
460,744; Bhumij, iii,3<Hi Birh&r, 536; K6di. a3.873; H6. 
371,860; TQxf, 3880; Asurl, 4894; Korwt, 16,442; KorkO, 87,675: 
Kharil, 82,506; Julng, 10,853; Savara, 157.136; Gadabft, 37.230; 
total. 3>i64>036. Santlll, MundArl, Bhumij. Birh&r. K6dfl, H6, 
TOrl, Asuxf and Korwg are only slightly differing forms of one 
and the same language, which can be called Kherwflrt, a name 
borrowed from SanttU tradition. Kherwirf is the prindpal 
Mund& language, and quite 88% of all the speakers of Mundfl 
tongues bdong to it. The Korwi dialect, spoken in the western 
part of Chota Nagpur, connects Kherw&rl with the remaining 
Mund& languages. Of these it is most dosdy related to the 
KQrka language of the Mahadeo hills in the Central Provinces. 
KQrkQ, in its tum, in important points agrees with Kharift and 
Juftng, and Kharii leads over to Savara and GadabS. The 
two last-mentioned forms of speech, which are spoken in the 
north-east of the Madras Presidency, have been much influenced 
by Dravidian languages. 

The MundA dialects are not in sole possesion of the territory 
where they are spoken. They are, as a rale, only found in the 
hills and jun^^es, while the plains and valleys are inhabited by 
people speaking some Aryan language. When brought into 
close contact with Aryan tongues the Mundl forms of vptech are 
apt to give way, and in the course of time they have been 
partly superseded by Aryan dialects. There are accordingly 
some Aryanized tribes in northern India who have formerly 
belonged to the Mundl stock. Such are the Cheros of Behar 
and Chota Nagpur, the Kherwars, who are found in the same 
localities, in Mirzapur and elsewhere, the Savaras, who formerly 
extended as far north as Shahabad, and others. It seems 
possible to trace an old Munda clement in some Tibeto-Burman 
dialects spoken in the Himalayas from Bashahr eastwards. 

By race the MundAs are Dra vidians, and thdr langxiage was 
likewise long considered as a member of the Dravidian family. 
Max MtUler was the first to distinguish the two families. He 
also coined the name Mundft for the smaller of them, which haa 
later on often been spoken of under other denominations, such as 
Kolarian and Kherwarian. The Dravidian race is generally 
considered as the aboriginal population of southern India. The 
Mundfts, who do not appear to have extended much farther 
towards the south than at present, must have mixed with 
the Dravidians from very early times. The so-called Nah&II 
dialect of the Mahadeo hills seems to have been originally a 
MundA form of speech which has come under Dravidian influ- 
ence, and finally passed under the spell of Aryan tongues. The 
same is perhaps the case with the numerous dialects H)oken by 
the Bhils. At all events, MundA languages have apparently 
been spoken over a wide area in central and north India. They 
were then early superseded by Dravidian and Aiyan dialects, 
and at the present day only scanty remnants are found in the 
hiUs and jungles of Bengal and the Central Provinces. 

Though the MundA family is not connected with any other 
languages in India proper, it does not form an isolated group. It 
bdongs to a widdy spread family, which extends from India in 
the west to Easter Island in the eastem Pacific in the east. In 
the first place, we find a connected language spoken by the 
Khasis of the KhasI hills in Assam. Then follow the M6n- 
KhmCr languages of Farther India, the dialects spoken by the 
abori^nal Inhabitants of the Malay Peninsula, the Nancowry 
of the Nicobars, and, finally, the numerous dialects of Austro- 
nesia, viz. Indonesic, Mdanesic, Polynesic, and so on. Among 
the various members of this vast group the MundA languages 
are most dosely related to the MOn-RhmCr family of Farther 
India. KtirkO, KhariA, JuAng, Savara and GadabA are more 
dosely related to that family than is KherwAxf, the prindpal 
MundA form of speech. 

We do not know if the MundAi entered India from without. 



MUNDAY 



If »» they can only have immignted from the cast At aU 
events ihty must have been settled in India from a very early 
The Sabaras, the ancestois of the Savaras, are already 
bk old Vcdic literature. The MundA languages 
to have been influenced by Dravidian and Aryan forms 
of speech. la most characteristics, however, they differ widely 

from the neighbouring tongues. 

The MandE languages abound in voweb, and alio pone« a richly 
developed syitefli of oonaonanta. Like the Dravidian languaees, 
they avoid begixmins a word with more than one conaonant. While 
those latter forms oiqwech shrink fiom pronouncing a short conao- 
nant at the oxl of words, the MundSs have the opponte tendency, 
viz. to shorten such sounds still more. The usual stopped consonants 
— vis. k, c (Le, English ci), I and ^--un formed bv stopping the 
current of breath at different points m the mouth, and then letting it 
pass oot with a kind of explosion. In the MundA language this 
operation can be abruptly checked half-way, so that the breath does 
not touch the organs of speech in passing out. The result is a sound 
that makes an aonipt impreaBaon on the ear, and has been described 
as an abrupt tone. SuchfloundsarecomroonintbeMundftUnguages. 
They are usually written k\ c\ t and ff, Stmibr sounds are also 
fosoid in the Moii>Khniir languages and in Indo-Chinese. 

The vowels of consecutive syllables to a certain extent approach 
each other in aound. Thus in KhCrwiri the open sounds d (ncariy 
Ei^Bsh a in all) and & (the a in care) agree with each other and not 
«iu the c o r resp onding close sounds o (the o in pole) and « (the r in 
pen). The SantiS paadve suffix oik* accordingly becomes m' after 
d or d ; canpaie idU'dl', go, but 6al^k\ to be struck. 

Words are formed from mooo»vIlabic bases by means of various 
additkms, niffixes (such as are added after the base), prefixes ^whkrh 
precede the base) and infixes (which are inserted into the base ttselO* 




SaatSli ter, to Icar; }t»4o-f^ fear; do/, to strike; dorpoA^ to strike each 



The various chase i of words ase not cleariy distinguished. The 
same baae can often be used as a noun, an adjective or a verb. The 
words simply denote some being, object, quality, action or the like, 
but tkcy do not tell us how they are oonceivied. 

lafleauoo is effected in the usual agglutinative way by means of 
additians which are ** glued " or |utncd to the unchanged base. 
In many respects, however, Mundft inflexion has struck out peculiar 
Kaes. Thus there b no grammatical distinction of gender. Nouns 
can be (fivided into two classes, vis. those that denote animate 
beings and those that denote inanimate otHects respectively. There 
are three numbers — the singular, the dual and the plural. On the 
other hand, there are no real cases, at least in the most t)'pical 
Mnnd& languages. The direct and the indirect object are indicated 
by means of certain additions to the verb. Certain relations In 
tune and space, however, are indicated by means of suffixes, which 
have probably from the beginning been separate words with a definite 
meaning. The genitive, which can be considered as an adjective 
pcecetfittg the governing word, is often derived from such forms 
locality. Compare SantiU Adr-rd, in a man; Adr-rda, of 



Holier iramberv are counted In twenties, and not in tens as in the 
DravMfian languages. 

The pronouns abound in different forms. Thus there are double 
sets of the dual and the plural of the pronoun of the first person, one 
mrlirfng and the other excluding the person addressed. The Rev. 
A Nottrott aptly illustrates the importance of this distinction by 
remarking bow it b necessary to use the exclusive form if telling the 
aerraot that " we shall dine at seven." Otherwise the speaker will 
BBvite the servant to partake of the meal. In addition to the usual 
personal pronouns there are abo short forms, used as suffixes and 
mfixes, which denote a direct object, an indirect object, or a genitive. 
There b a corresponding richness in the case of demonstrative 
proQoans. Thus the pronoun " that " in Santgli has different forms 
to denote a living being, an inanimate object, something seen, some- 
tbiag heard, and so on. On the other hand, there is no rebtive 
praooan. the want being supplied by the use of indefinite forms of the 
verbal bases, which can m tnis connexion be called rebtive participles. 

The most characteristic feature of Mundft grammar is the verb, 
eipecially in Khensftri. Every independent word can perform the 
foaction of a verb, and every vertial form can, in its turn, be used as a 
noun or an adjective. The bases of the different tenses can there- 
lore be described as indifferent words which can be used as a noun, 
as an adject ive. and as a verb, but which are in reality none of them. 
Each denotes simply the root meaning as modified by time. Thus 
\m Samftli the base dsl-kef, struck, which b formed from the base 
ist, by adding the suffix kef of the active past, can be used as a noun 
fooenpare dal-kft-kc, strikers, those that struck), as an adjective 
(compare iai-kef-kHr, struck man, the man that struck), and as a 
verb. In the bst case it b necessary to add an a if the action really 
lakes pboe: (bus, dat-kef-c, somebody struck. 

It has ahvady been remarked that the cases of the direct and 
iadbvct object aic indrated by adding forms of the personal 



pronouns to tiie verb. Siich pronominal affixes are inserted before 
the assertive particb a. Thus the affix denoting a direct object of the 
third person singular is e, and by inserting it in dtd-kef-a we arrive 
at a form dal-kear*-a, somebody struck him. Similar affixes can be 
added to denote that the object or subject of an action belongs to 
somebody. Thus SantiU Mpdir-tg-s dial-ket'-taluhiilt-c, son-my-he 
struck-their»>mine, my son who belongs to me struck theirs. 

In a sentence such as kar lOrH-t dal-hed-t'a, man boy-he struck* 
htm, the man struck the boy, the Santab first put together the ideas 
man, boy, and a striking in the past. Then the $ telb us that the 
striUng affects the boy, and finally the -a indicates that the whole 
action really takes pbce. It will be seen that a single verbal form 
in thb way often corresponds to a whole sentence or a series of sen- 
tences in other bnguages. If we add that the most developed 
Mundft bnguages possess different bases for the active, the middb 
and the passive, that there are different causal, intensive and recipro- 
cal bases, which are conjugated throughout, and that the person of 
the subject b often indicated in the verb, it will be understood that 
Mundft conjugation presents a somewhat bewildering^ aspect. It 
is, however, quite regubr throughout, and once the mind becomes 
accustomed to these peculiarities, they do not present any difficulty 
to the understanding. 

Bibliography.— -Max MQller, LetUr to Ouvaiier Bunsen on Ikt 
Oassiftattion of the Twoman Lanfuaies. Reprint from Chr. K. I. 
Bunsen. CkriMiamty and Manktnd, vol. lii. (London. 1854), 
especblly pp. I7S and sq<^.: Fricdrich MQller, Crundriss der Sprach- 
wtssenukaht vol UL part 1. (Wien, 1884), pp. 106 and sqo.. vol. Iv. 
part L (wien. 1888), p. no; Sten Konow, *' Mundft and Dravidian 
Languages " in Grierson's Ltagimfic Survey of India, iv. i and sqq. 
(Caicut^, 1906). (S.K.) 

HUVDAT (or Monday), AMTHONT (c. 1553-1633), English 
dramatist and miscellaneous writer, ion of Christopher Monday, 
a London draper, was bom in 1553-1 554' He had already 
appeared on the stage when in 1576 be bound himseU 
apprentice lor eight yean to John Mde, the stationer, an 
engagement from which he was speedily released, for in 
1578 he was in Rome. In the opening lines of bb English 
Romayno Lyfo (1582) he avers that in going abroad he 
was actuated solely by a desire to see strange cotmtrics and 
to learn foreign languages; but be must be regarded, if 
not as a spy sent to report on the English Jesuit College in 
Rome, as a joumalbt who meant to make literary capital out of 
the designs of the English Catholics resident in France and 
Italy. He says that he and hb companion, Thomas Nowell, 
were robbed of all they possessed on the road from Boulogne to 
Amiens, where they were kindly received by an English priest^ 
who entrusted them with letters to be delivered in Reims. 
These they handed over to the English ambassador in Paris, 
where under a false name, as the son of a well-known English 
Catholic, Munday gained recommendations which secured hb 
reception at the Englbh College in Rome. He was treated with 
special kindness by the rector, Dr Morris, for the sake of bb 
supposed father. He gives a detailed account of the routine of 
the place, of the dispute between the English and Webb students, 
of the carnival at Rome, and finally of the martyrdom of Richard 
Atkins (? 1 559-1 581). He retuVned to England in 1 578-1 579, and 
became an actor again, being a member of the Earl of Oxford's 
company between 1579 and 1584. In a CathoKc tract entitled 

A True Rcporte of the death of Af. Campion (1581), Munday 

b accused of having deceived his master Allde, a charge which 
he refuted by publishing AUde's signed declaration to the con- 
trary, and he is also said to have been hissed off the stage. He 
was one of the chief witnesses against Edmimd Campion and 
bb assocbtcs, and wrote about thb time five anti-popbh 
pamphlets, among them the savage and bigoted tract entitled A 
Discoverie of Edmund Campion and his Confederates—— whereto 
is added the execution of Edmund Campion, Raphe Sherwin, and 
Alexander Brian, the first part of' which was read aloud from 
the scaffold at Campion's death m December 1 581. Hb political 
services against the Catholics were rewarded in 1 584 by the post 
of messenger to her Majesty's chamber, and from thb time he 
seems to have ceased to appear on the stage. In 1 598-1 599, when 
he travelled with the earl of Pembroke's men in the Low 
Countries, it was in the capacity of playwright to furbish up old 
pbys. He devoted himself to writing for the booksellers and 
the theatres, compiling religious works, translating Amadis do 
Gaule and other French romances, and putting words to popular 
airs. He was the chief pageant-writer for the City from 1605 



MUNDELLA— MUNDT 



to iGiA, ud II Ii likely (bat be supplied most of the paceuili 
between 1591 and 1605^ of which no auilientic record baa beta 
tepl. It is by these eniettiionienia of his, which rivalled in 
Bucceis thoM of Ben Jonson and MiddJeion, that he won hii 
greatett fame; but otalj the adiievenirnti of hia venaiLle talent 
the only one that wu noted hi bis epitaph in St Stephens, 
Coleman Street, London, where he was buried on the lolh of 
August i6j3, was his enlarged edition (161B) of Stow's Suney 0/ 
London, In some of hia pageants be signs bimseU " citiiea and 
draper of London," and in his later years be is said (0 have 
followed bis fatbcr'i (nde. 

Ot tbe dchEesi plays between Ihe dates of IJB4 and lioa which 
areuiigDeirio Monday in collaboialiaii wiih Heiicy Cheiik. MichaeF 
Dnyton, Tbsmaa DeUiet and olbet dranutiRs. only four an eninl 
•-•<•• a Ktf Bad J- -    

■t the RuTbeatieon the lAd □( Deceml 
DO which il mi - 
r«' Hall in I sro. ] 
]iialUdltiSMM« 



fl 



.... u. Hml 0/ iBtr™ SimoKW. 

IM?) WIS fallowed in ihe lame monlh by a aco 
aKtbtriEaitefHialMdini (printed i6oi).inw 
with Henry Chellle. Mundivaluhad a ihire 
ton. Robert Wilton and Kichird Halhwiy in ! 
kilUncJ At lif'.o- -   "■■ ■'■■ ':■■■:- - '" >'" 

ef Eiflirptith^'sl  ,. , 'I ' .. -1.   r' .' ' :"m 

*»dj and Wympti; ,,i„l 1 tjncii Mcivs (J'jifiuiii T^ii-.v.. J-.i-. lir'ei 

beH plollcr." Ben Jfmsin ridicuteThlni in Tlir Cj>,- Vi' '^l.'.vinf 
as Antonio BalLidiii<>, pa|:caac pan. Munday'a uivk- u-ti.illy 
appHrrd under hiiO'.^'n njme, butheftoiDFtimouHd the ij^uij^rn^m 
of' LuaruiPiot.;' A. J^. DuUenidcnlifinhiin wiihthc''^liFph(nl 

other lyric, to EncAi^j Hrliiati (td. Bullpn. i*M.p. 15). 
Tlu. n«nnl.>«> ..r,.„„. .J An.h„n„ Muni.y i< T. Sfctombe"* 
id bihliography acu prcfiied 






to (he Shalfcapeare '^.- n-lj _ ,^^ „ „ ^ _ 

wtrt edited Dy J, 1 .... ,. 1 ', , -; . ji 

(ed. Park. iSii). I  . H. 

Fairbott. Lord Maynt 

HOHDSLLA, ANTHONY JOHN (iSij-i&g?), English eduui- 
tional and industrial rEformer, of Italian eniaclion, wu bom at 
Leicester in iSij. Alter 1 few yean spent at an elenienUty 
school, he was apprenticed to 4 hosier at the age of eleven; Ke 
aftnwards became luccesful in business in Nottingham, GUed 
several civic offices, and wjls known for his pbiianthtopy. He 
was sheriff of Noiiiaghim in 1853, and in 1855 organized the 



in for 



abelwc 



parliament for Sheffield as in advanced Liberal. He represented 
that constituency unlil November 1885, when he was returned 
loi the Brighlside division of Sheffield, which be continued 10 
represent until his death. In the Gladstone minisliy of 1880 
Mundclli WIS vice-president ol the councU, and shortly aller- 
Hirds was nonunited fourth charity commissioner far England 
and Wales, In Febniaiy 1SS6 he was appointed president 
of the board of trade, with 1 scat in the cabi..et, and was sworn 
a member of the privy council. In August iSqi, when the 



Isagam 






official 



ed office. His 
! board of trade. Hone 



h Ihe cc 



unpleasant 

Having made a dose study of the educiE ionil systems of Gcrminy 
»nd Swiuerland, Klundella was an early advocate of compulsory 
educilion in England. He rendered valuable service in con- 
neiion with Ihe Elementary Education Act of 1870, and the 
educitioDBl code of 1881, which became known is the " Mundclla 
Code," mariicd a new departure in Ihe regulation of public 
cleoieDtaiy Kfaaoh and tbe conditions o( tlie Government 



children in teililc lacloiies; 
removed cectiin restrictions on trade unions. It was he 
also who established Ihe labour department ol the board of 
trade and founded the Lalxnir CaltlU. He introduced ind 
passed bilk for the better prolectlon of women and childrco in 
brickyards and for the limitalion of their labours in factories; 
and be eSected subslanliil improvements in Ihe Mints Regula- 
tion Bill, and Kas the author of much other useful legiilalion. 
In recognition ol his eBorls, a marble bust of himself, by Bochm, 
subscribed lot by So.ooo factory workers, chiefly women and 
children, was presented to Mrs Mundelia. He died In London 
on the itst of July 1897, 

MUHDKH, JOSEPH BHBPHERD (1758-1811), English actor, 
was the son of 1 London poulterer, and ran iwiy fmm home 
to join a strolling company. He had a bng pravbicill experience 
as actor and manager. His first London appearance was in 
1790 at Covent Garden, where he practically remained until 
iBtt, becoming the leading comedian of bis day. In iSrj he 
was at Drury Lane. He retired in 1S14. and died on the Cth 
of February tSj.. 

■tlHDEH, a town of Gcminy, in tbe Prussian province of 
Hanover, picturesquely situated it tbe conBuence of the Fuldi 
and the Wem, si m. N.E. ol ClsBcl by rail. Top, (igos), 
10,755. II is an andeni place, municipal rights hiving been 
granted 10 It in 1 u^. A few niins ol its former walls still survive. 
The large Lutheran chutcfa of St Blisius (i4tb-i5th centuries) 
contains Ihe sarcophagus of Duke Eric of Bnmswick-Calcnberg 
(d, 1540), Tbe ijth-century Church of St Aegidius was injured 
in the siege of i6> 5-16 but was subsequently restored. There ia 
I new Roman Catholic church (1895). The town hall (1615), 
and the ducal castle, built by Duke Eric II. about 1570, and 
irincipai seculsr buildings. T 



s the r 



icipal r 






imall 



i,ortencalled"Hanno- 
versch-MOnden " (i.e, Hanoverian MOnden), to distinguish it 
{torn Prussian Minden, wis founded by the landgraves of 
Tburingii, and passed in 1147 to the house of Brunswick. It 
WIS for a time the residence ol the dukes of Brunswick-LUnebuig. 
In 1616 it WIS destroyed by Tilly, 

,j l^lllnmd, Ci 
Hen, 

KUNDBUCDS, a tribe of South American Indians, one of (he 
moat powerful tribes on. the Amaion, In 1788 they completely 
defeated their ancient enemies the Muris. After 1803 th^ 
lived at peace with the Brazih'ans, and many Ire dvilized, 

■fUHDT, IHEODOR (i8o8-ia«i), German author, was bom 
at Folsdam on the igth of September 1808. Having studied 
philology and philosophy at Berlin, he settled In i8ji at Leipiig. 
asa journalist, and was subjected to a rigorous police supervision. 
In iSjQ he msrried Klars Milller (1814-187J), who under the 
name of Luise MUhlbacb became i popular novelist, and be 
removed in Ihe same year to Berlin, Here his inlenlion ol 
entering upon an academical career was for a lime thwarted 
by his collision with the Prussian press laws. In 1S41, however, 
be was permitted to establish himself as pritaUloanL In 1S48 
he wu appouited professor of literature and bitloty in Bresliu, 
and in iSjo ordinary prolessor and Lbrarlan in Beriin; there he 
died on the joth of November 1861. Mundl wrote eilenslvely 

in his time. Prominent among hia works lie Dii KvnsI der 

daUicken Proia (1837); GtsthkkU dv Mcralar dcr &(nraor( 
etlMii; dit Ida iter SihS^hnl uxd dts Kunslwcrh in 
•ttrcT Zeil [1845, new cd, 1868); Die CMervtII itr 

alien VHker (1846. -new ed, 1854), He also wrote several 
 "  "" Valtr 

der ScikefMn (1S47) and Die Ualadae (1850), But perhips 
chief title to fame was bis part in the emancipation of 
I theme which be elsborsted in his Uadimna, Unltr- 

kalluKten mil eiatr Beilitai (iSjj). 



MUNICH 



■UmCU' (Ger. iffiMAcn), a city of Gennany, capital of 
tht kingdom of Bavaria, and the third largest town in the 
German Empire. It is situated on an elevated plain, on the 
river Isar, 25 m. N. of the foot-hills of the Alps, about midway 
between Strassburg and Vienna. Owing to its lofty site (i 700 ft. 
above the sea) and the proximity of the Alps, the climate is 
changeable, and its mean annual temperature, 49** to 50** F., 
b little higher than that of many places much farther to the 
north. The annual rainfall is nearly 30 in. Munich lies at 
the centre of an important network of railways connecting 
it directly with Strassburg (for Paris), Cologne, Leipzig, Berlin, 
Rosenheim (for Vienna) and Innsbruck (for Italy via the Brenner 
pass), which converge in a central station. 

Munich is divided into twenty-four municipal districts, nine- 
teen of which, including the old town, lie on the left bank of the 
Isar, while the suburban districts of Au, Haidhausen, Giesingi, 
Bogenhausen and Ramexsdorf are on the opposite bank. The 
old town, containing many narrow and irregixlar streets, forms a 
semkirde with its diameter towards the river, while round 
its periphery has sprung up the greater part of modem Munich, 
induding the handsome Maximilian and Ludwig districts. 
The walb with which Munich was formerly surrounded have 
been pulled down, but some of the gates have been left. The 
nsost interesting is the Isartor and the Karlstor, restored in 
iSjs and adorned with frescoes. The Siegestor (or gate of 
victory) is a modem inu'tation of the arch of Constantine at 
Rome, while the stately Propylaea, built in 1854-1862, is a 
reproduction of the gates of the Athenian Acropolis. 

Munich owes its architectural magnificence largely to Louis I. 
of Bavaria, who ascended the throne in 1825, and his successors; 
while its orflections of art entitle it to rank with Dresden and 
Berlin. Most of the modem buildings have been erected after 
celebrated prototypes of other countries and eras, so that, as 
has been said by Moria Carridre, a walk through Munich affords 
a picture of the architecture and art of two thousand years. 
In carrying out his plans Lotus I. was seconded by the architect 
Leo von Klenae, while the external decorations of painting and 
sculpture were mainly designed by Peter von Cornelius, WUhelm 
von gfniKarh and Schwanthalcr. As opportum'ty offers, the 
narrow streets of the older city are converted into broad, straight 
boulevards, lined with palatial mansions and public buildings. 
The hygienic improvement effected by these changes, and by 
a new and excellent water supply, is shown by the mortality 
averagea — ^40-4 per thousand in 1871-1875, 30-4 per thousand 
in 1881-1885, and 20-5 per thousand in 1903-1904. The archi- 
tectural style which has been principally followed in the later 
iwbfic buikiings, among them the law courts, finished in 1897, 
the German bank, St Martin's hospital, as well as in numerous 
private dwdlings, is the Italian and French Rococo, or Renais- 
sance, adapted to the traditions of Munich architecture in the 
17th and i8th centuries. A large proportion of the most notable 
boBdings in Munich are in two streets, the Ludwigstrasae and 
the Maximalianstrasse, the creations of the monarchs whose 
Banws they bear. The former, three-quarters of a mile long 
and 40 yds. wide, chiefly contains buildings in the Renaissance 
style by Friedrich von G&rtner. The most striking of these are 
the palaces of Duke Max and of Prince Luitpold; the Odeon, a 
large building for ccmcerts, adorned with frescoes and marble 
bims; the war office; the royal library, in the Florentine palatial 
^yle; the Ludwigikirche, a succosful reproduction of the 
Italtan Romanesque style, built in 1829-1844, and containing 
a huge fresco of the Last Judgment by Cornelius; the blind 
asjrlom; and, lastly, the university. At one end this street {9 
tcnunated bry the Siegestor, while at the other is the Fddher- 
rmballe (or lutll of the marshals), a copy of the Loggia dd Lanzi 
at Fkvcnoe, containing statues of Tilly and Wrede by Schwan- 
tbalff. Adjacent is the church of the Theatines, an imposing 
tboq^ somewhat over-ornamented example of the Italian 
Rococo style; it contains the royal burial vault. In the Maxi- 
mfliattstraaBe, which extends from Haidhausen on the right bank 
of the Isar to the Max- Joseph Platz, King Maximilian II. tried 
Co intTDdttce an entirely novd style of domestic architecturei 



formed by the combination of older forms. At the east end it 
is closed by the Maximilianeum, an extensive and imposing 
edifice, adomed externally with large sculptural groups and 
internally with huge paintings representing the chief scenes in 
the history of the world. Descending the street, towards the 
west are passed in succession the old buildings of the Bavarian 
national museum, the government buikiings in which the Com- 
posite style of Maximilian has been most consistently carried 
out, and the mint. On the north side of the Max- Joseph Plata 
lies the royal palace, consisting of the Alte Residenz, the 
Kbm'gsbau, and the Festsaalbau. The Alte Residenz dates 
from 160X to 1616; its apartments are handsomely fitted up 
in the Rococo style, and the private chapel and the treasury 
contain several crowns and many other interesting and valuable 
objects. The Festsaalbau, erected by Klenze in the Italian 
Renaissance style, is adorned with mural paintings and sculp- 
tures, while the RSnigsbau, a reduced copy of the Pitti Palace 
at Florence, contains a series of admirable frescoes from the 
Niebelungenlied by Julius Schnorr von Carolsfcld. Adjoining 
the palace are two theatres, the Residenz or private theatre, 
and the handsome Hof theater, accommodating 2500 spectators. 
The Allerheiligen-Hofkirche, or cuurt-church, is in the Byzantine 
style, with a Romanesque facade. 

The Ludwigstrasse and the Maximilianstrassc both end at 
no great distance from the Frauenplatz in the centre of the old 
town. On this square stands the Frauenkirche, the cathedral 
church of the archbishop of Munich-Freising, with its lofty cupola 
capped towers dominating the whole town. It is imposing from 
its size, and interesting as one of the few examples of indigenous 
Munich art. On the adjacent Marienplatz are the old town- 
hall, dating from the 14th century and restored in 1865, and 
the new town-hall, the latter a magnificent modern Gothic 
erection, freely embellished with statues, frescoes, and stained- 
glass windows, and enlarged in 1 900-1 905. The coluihn in the 
centre of the square was erected in 1638, to commemorate the 
defeat of the Protestants near Prague by the Bavarians during 
the Thirty Years* War. 

Among the other churches of Munich the chief place is due to 
St Boniface's, an admirable copy of an early Christian basilica. 
It is adomni with a cyde of religious paintings by Heinrich 
von Hess (1798-1863), and the dome is supported by sixty- 
four monoliths of grey Tyrolese marble. The parish church of 
Au, in the Early Gothic style, contains gigantic stained-glass 
windows and some excellent wood-carving; and the church 
of St John in Haidhausen is another fine Gothic structure. 
St Michad's in the Renaissance style, erected for the Jesuits in 
1 583-1595, contains the monxmient of Eugdne Bcauharaais by 
Thorwd<ben. The facade is divided into storeys,- and the 
general effect is 'by no means ecclesiastical St Peter's is inter- 
esting as the oldest church in Munich (12th century), though no 
trace of the original basilica remains. Among newer churches 
the most noticeable are the EvangeUcal church of St Luke, a 
Transitional building, with an imposing dome, finished in 1896, 
and the (}othic parochial church of the Giesing suburb, with a 
tower 312 ft. high and rich interior decorations (1866-1884). 

The valuable collections of art are enshrined in handsome 
buildings, mostly in the Maximilian suburb on the north side 
of the town, lie dd Pinakothek, erected by Klenze in 1826- 
1836, and somewhat resembling the Vatican, is embellished 
externally with frescoes by Cornelius and with statues of twenty- 
four celebrated painters (rom sketches by Schwanthaler. It 
contains a valuable and extensive collection of pictures by the 
earlier masters, the chief treasures bdng the early German 
and Flemish works and the imusually numerous examples of 
Rubens. It also affords accommodation to more than 300,000 
engravings, over 20,000 drawings, and a brge collection of 
vases. Opposite stands the new Pinakothek, built 1846-1853, 
the frescoes on which, designed by Kaulbach, show the effects of 
wind and weather. It is devoted ^o works by painters of the 
last century, among which Karl Rottmann's Greek landscapes 
are perhaps the most important. The Glyptothek, a building by 
Klenze in the Ionic style, and adorned with several groups and 



a of KulplilRt, ertcndisg 
aulera. The cdeb™.i»d 






>in^ lUttwt. emtiSta  vsliuble i 

(ram Asiyriin uid Egyptiu mo 

Thann]d«n knd ollut modem 

Aegiuetui mubla pmervfd hen were found ir 

Aegiiu ia iSii. Oppoiile Ihe Clyptothek ituids 

building, in the CoriDthiin hly\x, it wu ^nished : 

uied lor periodic nhibilions of mit- In Addition lo ue museum 

of plaster costs, the ^Kl(^Dniin(acoLLectioiiof£gvptiui, Greek 

and Roman antiquities under Ihe roof ol the new Pinakolhek) 

and the Maillinger coUeclion, connected irilh the hislotical 

museum. Munich alio cDotains Beveral privite gdlcries. Fore- 

moU among IbeM stand the Schack Gallery, beque«.Ibed by 

the founder, Count Adolph VOD Jkhack, to theemperot '-- 

II. in iSm, rich in works by modem German masters, 
Lotzbeck collection oF sculptures and paintings. Othi 
turesand institutiomarelhenewbuildin^of Ibeart ass 
tbe tj:iuiemy ol Ihe plastic aits (1874-188]), in the Rei 
siyle; and (he royal anenal (Zeugbaus) with the 

ol the great sculplor's v 

The immense scientific collection ui the Bavarian national 
museum. iUustnlive ol tbe march ol progtets from Ihe Roman 
period down to the present day, compaces in completeness 
wilh the similar colleclions at South Kensington and the Muite 
dc Cluny. The building which now houses this coUcction was 
(reeled ia iS$4~i«oo. On the walls is a series of well-eieculed 
Ireicoes ol scenes Irom Bavarian history, occupying a spate of 
16.000 sq. ft. The ethnographical museum, tbe cabinet of 
coins, and the roUcciions of losvls, miDerits, »nd physical 
and optical insirumenis, are also worthy of mention. The art 
union. Ibt oldest and most eitensive in Germany, poaesies a 
good collection of modern works. The chief place among the 
scientific institutions is doe to the academy of science, founded 

volumes and io.oi» manuscripls. Tbe observatory is equipped 
with inslramenU by the celebrated Josef Fraunhofer. 

At Ibe bead of tbe educational institutions of Munich stands 
tbe university, founded si Ingolslsdl in 1471, removed to 
Laodsbut in 1600, and transferred thence 10- Munich in 1836. 
In addition to the four usual (acuities there is a hlth — sf political 
economy. In conneiion with the university are medical and 

volume!. The polytechnic institute I.Talimucki HKkKkuk) in 
1894 acquired the privilege of conferring the degree ol doctor 
o( technical idence. Munich conulns several gymnasia or 
grammac-scboots, a military academy, a vetertnaiy college, an 
agricultural college,  school for architects and builders, and 
several other technical schools, and a conservatory of muuc 
The general prison in the suburb o( Au is considered a model 

other public buildings, Ibe ajistal palace (Clu-^alajl). T^s ft. 
in length, erected lor the great eihibiiion of 1S54, is now used, 
as occasion requires, (or temporary exhibitions. The Willelsbach 
paUce, buUt in i84j-igso, in the Early English Poinled style, is 
one of the reudences of the royal lamily. Among the numerous 
monuments with which tbe squares and streets are adorned, 
Ibe most important are the colossal statue of Maiimilian II. 
in the Maiimilianslnsse. the equestrian statues ol Louis L and 
Ihe elector Maximilian I., the obelisk erected to tbe 30,000 
Bavarians who perished in Napoleon's eipeditlon to Moscow, 
the Witlelsbacb fountain (1845), the monument commBnontive 
of tbe peace of 1871, tod the marble statue of Justus Ucbig, 
Ihe chemist, set up In 1883. 

The English garden (£ii^>rejlier CarCnt). to the nanh.east of 
the town, is 60a acres in extent, and was laid out by Count 
Rumlord in imitation ol an English pa^. On the t^pcoile bank 
of Ibe Isar. above and below the Masmillaneum, extend Ihe 
rsel the 



ddoMal bronn sutue ol Bavaria. 170 It. Ugh, dedgned by 
Scbwauihsler. The boiinical garden, with its large palm-bouie, 
tbe Uolgarten. surrounded wilh arcades containiog ftescoea of 
Greek landscapes by Roltmann, and the Muinulian park 10 
the east of the isar, complete Ihe list of public pai^ 

The population of Munich in 1905 was 5j8,}0J. The per- 
manent garrison numbers about 10,000 meiL Of the population, 
84% tn Roman Catholic, 14% ProtesUnls, and 2% Jews. 

Munich is tbe seal of ibe arcbbislwp of Munich-Freising 
and o( the general ProiHUnt consistoty For Savaria. About 
twenty newspapers art published here, including Ibe AUirmcim 
Ziiittnt- ^arcK ol Ihe festivals of the Roman Church sit cele- 
bitled wilfa considerable pompi and the people also cling to 
various national (Etes, such as the MeUgcraprung, Ihe Schafflet- 
tani, and the great October festival. 

~ ig been celebrated (or Its artistic handicrafts. 









IS of Fiai 



Lieberechl von 

Ertel (i778>iS38) arc also widely known. Lithography, which 
was invented al Munich at tbe end ol tbe i8lh century, is 
eitentivcly practised here. The other industrial products 
include wall-paper, railway plant, machinery, -gloves and 
Biti^cial flowers. The most characierislic Industry, however. 
is brewing. Four important markets are held at Munich 
annually. The dly is served by an exiensve electric Iramway 
system. 

Hiitory- — The Villa Municben or Fenm sif manadus, so 
called from tbe monkish owners of the gnmod on which it lay. 
was first called into prominence by Duke Henry the Lion, who 
established a mint here in 1158, and made it the emporium for 

dukes of the WiUelsbacb bouse occasionally resided at Municb, 
and in 1155 Duke Louis made ii his capilil, having previously 
surrounded it with walls and a moat. The town was almoal 
entirely destroyed by £re in 1317, after which the empetor Louis 
the Bavarian, in recognition of Ihe loyally of the dtiiens. 
rebuilt it very much on the scale il retained down to Ihe beginning 
of the iglh century. Among Ihe succeeding rulers those who did 
moal for the town in the erection ol handsome buildings and the 
foundation of schoob and scientific institutions were Albert V, 
William v., Mudmilian I., Ma. Joseph and Charles Theodore. 
In 1631 Munich was occupied by Guslavus Adolphus, and in, 
1705, and again In 174J, il was in possession of the AustriaoL 
In 1741 the fortifications were razed, 

Munich's imponance in the history of art is entirely ol modem 
growth, and may be dated from the acquiulion of the Aeginctui 
marbles by Louis I., then crown prince, in iBii. Among ibe 
eminent artists of this period whose names are more or less 
identified wllb Munich were Leo von Klenre (1784-1864). 
Joseph Daniel Ohlmllller [ijpi-rgjg). Friedrich von Girlner 
(1791-1347). and Georg Friedrich Zicbland (rSoo-1873), Ibe 
architecls; Peter von Cornelius (i78}-iS67]. WQhelm von Kaul- 
bach [1S04-1814]. Julius Schnorr von Carotsleld (1794-187)), 
and Karl Roltmann. the painters; and Ludwig von Scbwanthalcr. 
the sculptor. Munich is siill the leading school o( painting in 

abandonKj (or drawing and colouring of t realistic character. 
Karl von Piloty (1836-1886) and WilheUn Diei [1834-1907) long 

!.-■ . i-i-tBajf": S01.l,U-n,r*n.'mU ,i.™rt'£.™if;-i;..t ., .'1*54)*; 
Rr -.K.^uiHlmti-kirl'miHtiMrciiiitSlaiUJitiiiulunVK- I^^inx^l. 
H, • -ml, dir CHHTaMir (new ed., Ittoj); Pnnil. Cc.liuHi iir 
t.  ■.; M^'mCiml UmarrlMl (Muni^, iSjiii GMr.n.-. ;■' Jiin 

pi !■ a^iiliMiri (Muntch, Ituli KroMg(, Wm/n'-r' 1 






todb 



Is the Thetesienwiesc, a Urge common 
i is cclebnted in October. Here is 
or ball of fame, a Doric cotannsde 



1. leMl; Kroeeji, IIImW 
1, iToii: the JAfimk _\ 

nU Tnulmann. AU-Utnil'ii 1 



MUNICIPALITY— MUNICIPIUM 



MUnCIPAIJnr. a modem tenn (derived from Lat. mMfi*- 
dpium; see below), now used both for a dty or town which 
is organized lot self-govermnent under a municipal corporation, 
and also for the governing body itself. Such a corporation 
in Great Britain consists of a head as a mayor or provost, and 
of superior members, as aldermen and coundllors, together with 
the simple corporators, who are represented by the governing 
body; it acts as a poson by its common seal, and has a perpetual 
succession, with power to hold lands subject to the restrictions 
of the Bl<»tmain laws; and it can sue or be sued. Where 
necessary for its primary objects, every corporation has power 
to make by-laws and to oiforce them by penalties, provid^ they 
are not unjust or unreasonable or otherwise inconsistent with 
the objects of the charter or other instrument of foundation. 

See BoBOVGB, Cobcmonb, CoapoaAnoK, Local GovEaNMSNT, 
FciAMCB, &c. and for details of the funciions of the municipal 
govcnuzKOt we the sections under the ^neral headings of the 
different countries and the sections on the history of these countries. 

■mnGPnJM (Lat. munus, a duty or privilege, capered to 
take), in az^ent Rome, the term api^ed primarily to a 5to/i», 
a certain rdation between individuals or communities and the 
Roman state; subsequently and in ordinary usage to a com- 
munity, standing in such a relation to Rome. Whether the 
name signI6es the taking up of burdens or the acceptance of 
privileges is a disputed point. But as andent authorities are 
nnanimoia in giving mumts in this connexion the sense of 
"duty" or "service," it is probable that the chief feature 
of munidpafity was the performance of certain services to 
Rome.* This view is confirmed by all that we know about 
the towzui to which the pame was affiled in republican times. 
The status had its origin in the conferment of dtizenship upon 
Tusculum in 381 B.C. (Livy vi. 36; d. Cic pro Plane. 8, xg), 
and was widdy extended in the settlement made by Rome at 
the dose of the Latin War in 338 B.C. (see Rome, History). 
Italian towns were then divided into three dasses: (i) C<4oniae 
citium Romanorumf whose members had all the rights of dtizen- 
ship; (2) wmnidpiaf which recdved partial dtizenship; {3)foeder- 
€lae chitaUs (induding the so-called Latin colonies), which 
remained entirdy separate from Rome, and stood in relations 
with her which were separatdy arranged by her for each state by 
treaty (Joedus). The muHtdpia stood in very dififcrent d^rees 
of d^Mmdence on Rome. Some, such as Fundi (Livy viii. 14; 
d. Ufid. 19), enjoyed a local self-government only limited in the 
matter of jurisdiction; others, such as Anagnia (Livy ix. 43; 
Festos, dt verb, significaiione, s.v. ** munidpium," p. 127, ed. 
MfiQer), were governed directly from Rome. But they all had 
certain features in common. Their dtizens were called upon 
to pay the same dues and perform the same service in the legions 
as full Roman dtiKns, but were deprived of the chief privileges 
of dtisenship, those of voting in the COmitia (jus suffragii), and 
of holding Roman magistracies (jus konorum). It would also 
appear from Festus (op. cU. s.v. praefectura, p. 233) that juris- 
<&ction was entrusteid in every munkipium to pratfedi juri 
diamio sent out from Rome to represent the Praetor Urbanus.' 
The conferment of munidpality can therdore hardly have been 
regarded as other than an imposing of burdens, even in the 
case of those dties which retained control of their own affairs. 
Bat after the dose of the second Punic War, when Rome had 
become the chief power, not only in Italy, but in all the ndgh- 
booring lands round the Mediterranean, we can trace a growing 
tendency among the Italian dties to regard dtizenship of th^ 
great state as a privilege, and to daim complete dtizenship as 
a reward of their services in hdping to build up the Roman 
power. During the 2nd century b.& the jus suffragii and jus 
ha iur mm were conferred upon numerous mumcipia (Livy xxxviiL 
3^* 37)t vhose dtizens were then enrolled in the Roman tribes. 
They can have ezerdsed thdr public rights but seldom, owing to 
their distanfr from Rome; but the consulships of C« Marius, 

} For a cootrary view, however, see Marquardt, ROm, Staatsverw. 
L pL 26k n. a (and ed., Lnpac. 1881). and authoritks there dted. 

' For a dittennt view see Willems, Droit ptMie romain. p. 381 
(Loavaai, 1874). 



a mumiceps, of Arpinum (between 107 and 100 B.a), and the 
strength of the support given to Tiberius Gracchus in the 
assembly by the voters from Italian towns (133 B.c) show what 
an important influence the members of these municipia could 
oc casionall y exercise over Roman politics. The dties thus 
privileged, however, though recdving complete Roman dtizen- 
ship, were not, as the logic of public law might seem to demand, 
incorporated in Rome, but continued to exist as independent 
urban units; and this anomaly survived in the munidpal system 
which was devdoped, on the basis of these grants of dtizen- 
ship, after the Social War. That system recognized the munieeps 
as at once a dtizen of a self-governing dty community, and 
a member of the dty of Rome, his dual capadty being illustrated 
by his right of voting both in the election of Roman magistrates 
and in the election of magistrates for his own town. 

The result of the Social War which broke out in 91 B.a 
(see Roue: History) was the establishment of a new uniform 
munidpality throuj^out Italy, and the obliteration of any 
important distinction between the three classes established 
after the Latin War. By the Lex Julia of 90 B.C. and the 
Lex Plautia Papiria of 89 B.C every town in Italy which made 
application in due form recdved the complete dtizenship. 
The term municipium was no k)nger confined to a particular 
class of Italian towns but was adopted as a convenient name 
for all urban communities of Roman dtizens in Italy. The 
organization of a munidpal system, which should regulate the 
governments of all these towns on a uniform basis, and define 
thdr relation to the Roman government, was probably the work 
of Sulla, who certainly gave great impetus to the foundation 
in the provinces of dtizen colonies, which were the earliest 
municipia outside Italy, and enjoyed the same status as the 
Italian towns. Julius Caesar extended the sphere of the Roman 
munidpal system by his enfranchisement of Cisalpine Gaul, 
and the consequent indusion of all the towns of that region 
in the category of municipia. He seems also to have given 
a more definite organization to the municipia as a whole. But, 
excepting those in Cisalpine Gaul, the munidpal system still 
embraced no towns outside Italy other than the dtizen colonies. 
Augustus and his successors adopted the practice of granting 
to existing towns in the provinces either the fuU dtizenship, 
or a partial civitas known as the jus LatiL This partial civitas 
does not seem to have been entirdy replaced, as in Italy, by 
the grant of fuU privileges to the communities possessing it, 
and the distinction survived for some time in the provinces 
between coloniae^ municipia juris Romani, and municipia juris 
Latini. But the uniform system of administration gradually 
adopted in all three classes rendered the distinction entirely 
unimportant, and the general term munidpium is used of afl 
alike. The incorporation of existing towns, hitherto non-Roman, 
in the uniform munidpal system of the prindpate took place 
mainly in the eastern part of the Empire, where Greek dviliza- 
tion had long fostered urban life. In the west dty commu- 
nities rapidly sprang up under direct Roman influence. The 
devdopment of towns of the munidpal type on the sites where 
legions occupied permanent quarters can be traced in sev^al 
of the western provinces; and it cannot be doubted that this 
devdopment became the rule wherever a body of Roman 
subjects settled down together for any purpose and permanently 
occupied a region. At any rate by the end of the ist century 
of the prindpate municipia are numerous in the western as 
well as the eastern half of the Empire, and the towns are every- 
where centres of Roman influence. 

Of the internal life of the munidpia very little is known 
bdore the Empire. For the period after Julius Caesar, however, 
we have two important sources of information. A series of 
munidpal laws gives us a detailed knowledge of the constitution 
imposed, with slight variations, on all the munidpia] and a 
host of private inscriptions gives particulars of thdr social life. 

The munidpal constitution of the ist century of the prindpate 
is based upon the type of government common to Greece and 
Rome from earliest times. The government of each town 
consists of magistrates, senate and assembly, and is entirely 



8 



MUNICIPIUM 



independent of the Roman government exrapt in certain cases 
of higher dvil jurisdiction, which come under the direct cog- 
nisance of the praetor urbanus at Rome. On the other hand, 
each community is bound to perform certain services to the 
Imperial government, such as the contribution of men and 
horses for military service, the maintenance of the imperial 
post through its neighbourhood, and the occasional entertain- 
ment of Roman of&cials or billeting of soldiers. The citizens 
were of two classes: (i) cives, whether by birth, naturalization 
or emancipation, (2) ina^, who enjoyed a partial citizenship 
based on domicile for a certain period. Both classes were 
liable to civic burdens, but the itudae had none of the privi- 
legeaL of citizenship except a limited right of voting. The 
citizens were grouped in either tribes or curiae^ and accordingly 
the assembly sometimes bore the name of Comitia Tributa, 
sometimes that of Comitia Curiata. The theoretical powers 
of these comitia were extensive both in the election of magis- 
trates and in legislation. But the growing influence of the 
senate over elections on the one hand, and on the other hand the 
increasing reluctance of leading citizens to become candidates 
for office (see below), gradually made popular election a mere 
form. The senatorial recommendation of the necessary number 
of candidates seems to have been merely ratified in the comitia; 
and a Spanish munidpal law of the ist century makes special 
provision for occasions on which an insufficient number of 
candidates are forthcoming. In Italy, however, the reality of 
popular elections seems to have survived to a later date. The 
inscriptions at Pompeii, for instance, give evidence of keenly 
contested elections in the 2nd century. The local senate, or 
curiat always exercised an important influence on. munidpal 
poKtics. Its members formed the local nobility, and. at an 
early date special privileges were granted by Rome to provindals 
who were senators in their native towns. For the composition, 
powers, and history of the provindal senate see Decukio. 
The magistrates were dected annually, and were six in number, 
forming three pairs of colleagues. The highest magistrates 
were the llviri {Dtunirt) jitri dicundo, who had charge, as their 
name implies, of all local jurisdiction, and presided over the 
assembly. Candidates for this office were required to be over. 
95 years of age, to have hdd one of the minor magistrades, 
and to possess all the qualifications required of members of the 
local senate (see Decuxio). Next in dignity were the Ilviri 
aediles, who had charge of the roads and public buildings, the 
games and the com-sup]^y, and exerdsed police control through- 
out the town. They appear to have been regarded as sub- 
ordinate colleagues {caUegae minores) of the Ilviri juri dicundo, 
and in some towns at least to have had the right to convene 
and preside over the comitia in the absence of the latter. Indeed 
many inscriptions speak of IVviri (Quattuonirt) consisting of 
two IVviri juri dicundo and two IVviri aediUs; but in the 
majority of cases the former are regarded as distinct and 
superior magistrates. The two guaeslores^ who appear to have 
controlled finance in a large number of municipia, cannot be 
traced in others; and it is probable that in the municipia, as 
at Rome, the quaestorship was locally instituted, as need arose, 
to relieve the supreme magistrates of excessive business. Other 
munidpal magistrates frequently rderred to in the inscriptions 
are the quinquennaks and pra^edi. The quinguetmalts super- 
seded the Ilviri or IVviri juri dicundo every five years, and 
differed from them only in ponessing, in addition to thdr other 
powers, those exerdsed in Rome before the time of Sulla by the 
censors. Two dasses of praefedi are foimd in the munidpidities 
under the Empire, both of which are to be distinguished from 
the officials who bore that name in the municipia before the 
Sodal War. The first dass consists of those praefedi who were 
nominated as temporary ddegates by the Ilviri, when through 
illness or compulsory absence they were unable to discharge 
the duties of thdr office. The second dass, referred to in 
inscriptions by the name of praefedi ah decurionibus creaii 
lege Petronia, seem to have been appointed by the local senate 
in case of a complete absence of higher magistrates, such as 
would have led in Rome to the appointment of an tnterrex. 



From a sodal point of view the municipia of the Roman Empire 
may be treated under three beads: (i) as centres of local idf- 
govemment, (2) as religious centres, (3) as industrial centres, (i) 
The chid feature of the local government of the towns is the wide- 
spread activity of the munidpal authorities in improving the general 
conditions of life in the town. In the municipaiities, as in Rome, 
provision was made out of the public funds for feeding the poorest 
part of the population, and providing a supply of com whicn could 
be bought bjr ordinary dtizens at a moderate price. In Pliny's 
time there existed in many towns public schools contfX)lled by the 
munidpal authorities, concerning which Pliny remarks that they 
«ere a source of considerable disturbance in the town at the times 
when it was necessary to appoint teachers. He himself encourag^ 




remained in the hands of the subscribers. Physidans seem to have 
been maintained in many towns at' the public enwnse. The water- 
supply was also providca out of the munidpal budget, and controUed 
by magistrates appointed for the purpose. To enable it to bear the 
expense involved m all these undertaking the local treasury was 
eenerally asasted by large benefactions, either in money or in works, 
from individual dtizens; but direct taxation for muniapd purposes 
was hardly ever resorted to. The treasury was filled out of the 

f proceeds ol the landed poaoesaons of the community, especially such 
ruitful sources of revenue as mines and quarries, and out of import 
and export duties. It was occasionally subsidiied by the emperor 
on occasimiB of sudden and exceptionaicalamity. 

2. The chief feature in the religious life ot the towns was the 
important position they occupied as centres for the cult of the 
emperor. Caesar-worship as an organized cult devdoped sponta- 
neously in many provindal towns during the reign 01 Augustus, 
and was fostered by him and his successors as a means of promoting 
in these centres of vigour and prosperity a strong loyalty to Rome 
and the emperor, which was one of the firmest supports of the latter's 
power. The order of AugustaUs, officials appointed to regulate the 
worship of the emperor in the towns, occupied a position of dignity 
and importance in provindal sodety. It was composed of the lead- 
ing and the wealthiest men among the lower classes of the popula- 
tion. By the ofganization. of the order on these lines Augustus 
secured the double object of maintaining Caesar-wor^tp in all the 
most vigorous centres of provincial life, and attracting to himself 
and his successors the special devotion of the industriaTdaas which 
had its origin in the munidpia of the Roman Empire, and baa bea>me 
the greatest political force in modem Europe. 

3. The development of this free industrial class is the chief feature 
of the municipia considered as centres of industry and handicraft. 
The rise to power of the equestrian order in Rome during the last 
century of the Republic had to some extent modified tfett ofd Roman 
prindple that trade and commerce were beneath the dignity of 
the governing class ; but long after the fall of the Republic the aristo- 
cratic notion survived in Rome that industry and handicrafts were 
only fit for slaws. In the provincial towns, however, this idea was 




corps. Already the members of this cuss show a strong tendency 
to bind themselves together in gilds {fioUegia, sodalitamj, and the 
existence of countless associations of the kind is revealed by the 
inscriptions. The formation of sodeties for religioua and other 
purposes was frequent at Rome from the earliest times in all dasses 
of the free population. After the time of Sulla these sodeties were 
regarded by the government with suspicion, mainly on account (rf the 
political uses to which they were tumed, and various measures were 
passed for their suppression in' Rome and Italy. This policy was 




objects of nearly all such cdUeg^a ( 
we have any knowledge were twofold, the maintenance of the 
worship of some god, and proviaon for the peifonmance of proper 
funerary rights for its members. But under cover of these two main 
objects, the only two purposes for which such combinations were 
allowed under the Empire, associations of all kinds grew up. The 
organization of the gilds was based on that of the munidpality. 
Each elected its officen and treasuren at an annual meeting, and 
every five years a revision of the list of members was held, correspond- 
ing to that of the senatora held ouinquennially by the dty magia- 
trates. It is doubtful how far these sodeties served to organize 
and improve particular industries. There is no evidence to show 
that any sodeties during the first three centuries conasted solely 
of workera at a nngle craft. But there can be little doubt that the 
later craft gilds were a development, through the industrial gilds 
of the provindal towns, of one oiF the most andent features of Roman 
life. 

Remarkable concord seems generally to have existed in the 

municipia between the various dasses of the population. This 

is accounted for partly by the strong dvic feeling which fonned 

a bond of unity stronger than most sources of friction, mnd 



MUNIMENT— MUNKACS 



partly to the general i»osperity of the towns, which removed 
any acute discontenL Tht wealthy citizen seems always to 
have had to bear heavy financial burdens, and to have enjoyed 
in reiom a dignity and an actual political preponderance which 
made the genual character of mnniripal constitutions distinctly 
timocratic 

The policy adopted by the early emperors of encouraging, 
within the limits of a uniform system, the independence and 
civic patriotism of the towns, was superseded in the 3rd and 
4th centuries by a deliberate effort to use the towns as instru* 
nients of the imperial government, under the direct control of 
the emperor or his representatives in the provinces. This 
policy was accompanied by a gradual decay of civic feeUng and 
municipal enterprise, which showed itself mainly in the un- 
willingness of the townsmen to become candidates for local 
magistrades, or to take up the burdens entailed in membership of 
the municipal senate. Popular control of the local government 
of the towns was ceasing to be a reality as ^ly as the end of 
the ist century of the Empire. Two centuries later local 
govemnwnt was a mere form. And the self-governing com- 
munities of the middle ages were a restoration, rather than a 
development, of the flourishing and independent municipalities 
<rf the age of Augustus and his immediate successors. 

AuTBOKiTiBS. — C. Bmns, Pontes Juris romani, c. III., No. 18. 
and c IV. (Freibur]Kt i^3)> for Municipal Laws and references to 
Monrasea's commentary in C,I,L, ; E. Kuhn, Slddiische u. bUrgerliche 
Verfasntug des rdm. Rncks (Leipzig, '^^)« Marquardt. R6miuh$ 
StaatsaenBaUung, I. i. (Leipriff, 1S81); Toutain, in Darcmbcr^- 
Saglio Dictunstudre des anii^ifiUs grecques et romaineSt s.v. " Munici* 
pium ": S. Dill. Raman Society from Nero to Marcus Aurdius, c 2 
and 3 (London. 1904). For the gilds ace Moromsen, De cotlegiis «l 
sodaBciis Ramanarwn (Keil, 1843I; Licbenam, Ceschickte u: Organi- 
sation das rdm. Vereinswesens (Lapzig, 1890). (A. M. Cl.) 

■UMiMSHT, a word chiefly used in the plural, as a collective 
term for the documents, charters, title-deeds, &c. relating to 
the property, rights and privileges of a corporation, such as a 
odilege, a family or private person, and kept as " evidences " 
fior defending the same. Hence the medieval usage of the word 
rnminsenium, in classical Latin, a defence, fortification, from 
fluniire, to defen d. 

MUHI RIVER 8BTTLE1IEIITI, or Spanish Gxtinea, a Spanish 
protectorate on the Guinea Cbast, West Africa, rectangular 
in fcmn, with an area of about 9800 sq. m. and an estimated 
population of 150,000. The protectorate extends inland about 
175 miles and b bounded W. by the Atlantic, N. by the German 
colony of C^ameroon, E. and S. by French C^ngo. The coast- 
fine, 75 m. long, stretd^s from the mouth of the Oimpo in 
s* id' N. to the mouth of the Muni in i** N., on the north arm 
of Corisco Bay. The small islands of Corisco {q.v.\ Elobey 
(kande, Elob^ Chioo and Bana in (Frisco Bay also belong 
to Spain. 

From the estuaxy of the Campo the coast trends S.S.W. in 
a series of shallow indentations, until at the bold bluff of (Zape 
San Juan it turns eastward and forms Corisco Bay. The coast 
l^n, from 12 to 35 m. wide, is succeeded by the foot-hills of 
the Co''^ Mountains, which traverse the country in a north 
to south direction. These are a table-land, from which rise 
granitic hills 700 to zaoo ft. above the general level, which is 
about 2500 ft. above the sea. The mountainous region, which 
extends inland beyond the Spanish frontier, contains many 
narrow valleys and marshy depressions. The greater part of 
the country forms the basin of the river Benito, which, rising 
ia French Congo a little east of the frontier, flows through the 
centre of the Spanish protectorate and enters the sea, after a 
ODuzae of 300 m., about midway between the Campo and Muni 
estuaries. The southern bank of the lower course of the (^mpo 
axd the northern bank of the lower course of the Muni, form 
part of the protectorate. The mouths of the Campo and 
Bdito are obstructed by sand bars, whereas the channel leading 
to the Muni is some 36 ft. deep and the river itself is more than 
double that depth. It is from this superiority of access that 
the country has been named after the Muni River. The course 
ef all the rivers is obstructed by rapids in their descent from 



the table-land to the plain.' The greater part of the country 
is covered with dense primeval forest. This forest growth is 
due to the fertility of the soil and the great rainfall, Snanish 
Guinea with the neighbouring Cameroon country possessing 
one of the heaviest rain records of the world. Tht humidity 
of the climate joined to the excessive heat (the average tempera- 
ture is 78** F.) makes the climate trying. In the' eastern parts 
of the protectorate the forest is succeeded by more open country. 
Among the most common trees are oil-palms, rubber-trees, ebony 
and mahogany. The forests are the home of monkeys and of 
innumerable birds and insects, often of gorgeous colouring 
In the north-east of the country elephants are numerous. 

The inhabitants are Bantu-Negroid, the largest tribe repre- 
sented being the Fang (?.«.), called by the Spaniards Pamues. 
They are immigrants from the Congo basin and have pushed 
before them the tribes, such as the Benga, which now occupy 
the coast-lands. The villages of the Fang arc usually placed 
on the top of small hills. Tliey cultivate the yam, banana and 
manioc, and are expert fishers and hunters. The European 
settlements are confined to the coast. There are trading stations 
at the mouths of the Campo, Benito and Muni rivers, at Bata, 
midway between the Campo and Benito, and on Elobey Chico. 
There are cocoa, coffee and other plantations, but the chief 
trade is in natural products, rubber, palm oil and palm kernels, 
and timber. Cotton goods and alcohol are the principal imports. 
Trade is largely in the hands of British and German firms. The 
annual value of the trade in 1903-1906 was about £100,000. 

Spain became possessed of Fernando Po at the end of the 

i8tb century, and Spanish traders somewhat later established 

" factories " on the neighbouring coasts of the mainland, but 

no permanent occupation appears to have been contemplated. 

During the 19th century a number of treaties were concluded 

between Spanish naval officers and the chiefs of the lower 

Guinea coast, and when the partition of Africa was in progress 

Spain laid daim to the territory between the Campo river and 

the Gabun. Germany and France also claimed the territory, 

but in 1885 Germany withdrew in favour of France. After 

protracted negotiations between France and Spain a treaty 

was signed in June 1900 by which France acknowledge^! Spanbh 

sovereignty over the coast region between the CZampo and 

Muni rivers and the hinterland as far east as zx** 20' E. of 

Greenwich, receiving in return concessions from Spain in the 

Sahara (see Rio de Org), and the right of pre-emption over 

Spain's West African possessions. In Z90Z-1902 the eastern 

frontier was delimited, being modified in accordance with 

natural feattires. The newly acquired territories werepbced 

under the superintendence of the governor-general of Fernando 

Po, sub-governors being stationed at Bata, Elobey Chico and 

(Frisco. 

See R. Beltrin y R6zpide, La Guinea espaflola (Madrid, t90i), 
and Guinea continental espafiola (Madrid, 1903) ; H. Lorin, " Lcs 
colonies cspsupnoles du goffe de Guinde " in QiusL dip, et cot., vol. 
xxi. (1906) ; E. L. Perea, " Estado actual de los territorios cspafiolcs . 
de Guinea " in Reoista de geog. colon, y mercantil (Madrid, 1905) ; J. B. 
Roche, Aupays des Pahouins (Paris, 1904). A good map compiled 
by E. d' Almonte on the scale of i :200,ooo was published in Madrid 
in t903. Consult also the works cited under Fbrnanoo Pa 

MUNKAcS, a town of Hungary, in the county of Bereg, 
220 m. E.N.E. of Budapest by raJL Pop. (t90o), Z3,640. It 
is situated on the Latorcza river, and on the outskirts of the 
East Beskides mountains, where the hills touch the plains. Its 
most noteworthy buildings are the Greek Catholic cathedral 
and the beautiful castle of Coubt Schonbom. In the vicinity, 
on a steep hill 580 ft. high, stands the old fort of Munk&cs, 
which played an important part in Hungarian history, and was 
especially famous for its heroic defence by Helcne Zrinyi, wife 
of Emeric Tdkdii and mother of Francis R&k6czy II., for three 
years against the Austrians (Z685-Z688). It was afterwards 
used as a prison. Ypsilanti, the hero of Greek liberty, and 
Kozinczy, the regenerator of Hungarian letters, were confined in 
it. According to tradition, it was near Munkics that the 
Hungarians, towards the end of the 9th century, entered the 
country. In 1896 in the fort was built one of the " miilesnial 



lO 



MUNKACSY— MUNRO, R. 



monuments" otabltthcd at Mven different points of the 
kingdom. 

MUNKACSY, MICHAEL VON (1844-1900), Hungarian painter, 
whose real name was Michael (Miska) Leo Lies, was the third 
son of Michael Lieb, a collector of salt-tax in Munkics, Hungary, 
and of Qlcilia Rdck. He was bom in that town on the 20th 
of February 1844. In 1848 his father was arrested at Miskolcz 
for complicity in the Hungarian revolution, and died shortly 
after his release; a little earlier he had also lost his mother, 
and became dependent upon the charity of relations, of whom 
an uncle, ROck, became mainly responsible for his maintenance 
and education. He was apprenticed to a carpenter, Langi, in 
1855, but shortly afterwards made the acquaintance of the 
painters Fischer and Szamossy, whom he accompanied to Arad 
in 1858. From them he received his fin>t real instruction in 
art. He worked mainly at Budapest during 1863-1865, and 
at this time first adopted, from patriotic motives, the name by 
which he is always known. In 1865 he visited Vienna, returning 
to Budapest in the following year, and went thence to Munich, 
where he contributed a few drawings to the Fliegende BUUUr. 
About the end of 1867 he was working at Diisseldorf, where he 
was much influenced by Ludwig Knaus, and painted <i868- 
1869) his first picture of importance, "The Last Day of a 
Condemned Prisoner," which was exhibited in the Paris Salon 
in 1870, and obtain^ for him a midailU unique and a very 
considerable reputation. He had already paid a short visit to 
Paris in 1867, but on the 35th of January 187a he took up his 
permanent abode in that city, and remained there during the 
rest of his working life. Munkacsy's other chief pictures are 
" Milton dictating Paradise Lost to his Daughters " (Paris 
Exhibition, 1878), " Christ before Pikte " (1881), *' Golgotha " 
(1885), " The Death of Mozart " (1884), " Arpad, chief of the 
Magyars, taking possession of Hungary," painted for the new 
House of Parliament in Budapest, and exhibited at the Salon 
in 1893, and ** Ecce Homo." He had hardly completed the 
latter work when a malady of the brain overtook him, and he 
died on the 30th of April 1900, at Endenich, near Bonn. Just 
before his last illness he had been offered the directorship of 
the Hungarian State Galleiy at Budapest. Munkacsy's masterly 
characterization, force and power of dramatic composition 
secured him a great vogue for his works, but it is doubtful if 
hb reputation will be maintained at the level it reached during 
his Ufetime. " Christ before Pilate " and " Golgotha " were sold 
foi* £3>iOoo and £35,000 respectively to an American buyer. 
Munkacsy received the following awards for his work exhibited 
at Paris: Medal, 1870; Medal, 2nd class; Legion of Honour, 
1877; Medal of Honour, 1878; Officer of the Legion, 1878; Grand 

Prix, Exhibition of 1889; Commander of the Legion, 1889. 

See F. Walther Ilgcs. " M. von Munkacsy." KUnstUr Mono- 
grapkitn (1899): C. Scdelmeyer, Christ before Pilate (Paris, 1886); 
J. Beavington Atkinson, " Michael Munkacsy," Maganne of Art 
{1881). (E.F. S.) 

MOnNICH. BURKHARD CHRISTOPH, Coitnt (1683-1767), 
Russian soldier and statesman, was bom at Neuenhuntorf, in 
Oldenburg, in 1683, and at an early age entered the French 
service. Thence he transferred successively to the armies of 
Hesse-Darmstadt and of Saxony, and finally, with the rank of 
general-in-chief and the title of count, he joined the army of 
Peter II. of Russia. In 173a he became field-marshal and 
president of the council of war. In this post he did good 
service in the reorganization of the Russian army, and founded 
the cadet coipa which was destined to supply the future genera- 
tions of officers. In 1734 he took Danzig, and with 1736 began 
the Turkish campaigns which made MOnnich's reputation as a 
soldier. Working along the shores of the Bbck Sea from the 
Crimea, he took Ochakov after a celebrated siege in 1737, and 
in 1739 won the battle of Stavutschina, and took Khotin (or 
Choczim), and established himself firmly in Moldavia. Marshal 
Mannich now began to take an active part in political affairs, 
the particular tone of which was given by his rivalry with Biron, 
or Bieren, duke of Courland. But his activity was brought to 
a close by the ^revolution of 1741; he was arrested on his way 
to the frontier, and condemned to death. Brought out for 



execution, and withdrawn from the scaffold, he was later sent to 
Siberia, where he remained for several years, until the accession 
of Peter III. brouj^t about his release in 176a. Catherine II., 
who soon displaced Peter, employed the old field-marshal 
as director-general of the Baltic ports. He died in 1767. Feld- 
marachall MOnnich was a fine soldier of the professional type, 
and many future commanders, notably Loudon and Lacy, 
served their apprenticeship at Ochakov and Khotin. As a 
statesman he b regarded as the founder of Russian Philhellenism. 
He had the grade of count of the Holy Roman Empire. The 
Russian 37th Dragoons bear his name. 

He wrote an Sbaucke pour donner une idle de la forme de Pempire 
de Russie (Leipzig, 1774). and hu voluminous diaries have appeared 
in various publications— Herrmann, Beitrdge tur Ceschichte des mssi' 
uken Reieks (Leipzig. 1843). See Hempcl, Leben Munmeks (Bremen, 
1742); Halcm. CesckichU des P, M. Graf en Munnich (Okienburg. 
1803 : and ed.. 1838) ; Kostomarov, Peidmarschail MUnmck {RussiseMe 
Cesikickte inBiogra^tieUtV, 2). 

MUNRO. SIR HECTOR (1726-1805), British general, son of 
Hugh Munro of Novar, in Cromarty, was bom in I7a6, and 
entered the army in 1749. He went to Bombay in 1761, in 
command of the 89th regiment, and in that year effected the 
surrender of Mah£ from the French. Later, when in command of 
the Bengal army, he suppressed a mutiny of sepoys at Patna, 
and on the a3rd of October 1764 won the victory of Buxar 
against Shuja-ud-Dowlah, the nawab wazir of Oudh, and Mir 
Kasim, which ranks amongst the most decisive battles ever 
fought in India. Returning home, he became in 1768 M.P. 
for the Inverness Burghs, which he continued to represent in 
parliament for more than thirty years, though a considerable 
portion of this period was spent in India, whither he returned 
in 1778 to take command of the Madras army. In that year 
he took Pondicherry from the French, but in 1 780 he was defeated 
by Hyder Ali near Conjeevcrara, and forced to fall back on 
St Thomas's Mount. There Sir Eyre Coote took over command 
of the army, and in 1781 won a signal victory against Hyder Ali 
at Porto Novo, where Munro was in command of the right 
division. Negapatam was taken by Munro in November of' 
the same year; and in 1782 he returned to England. He died oa 
the 27th of December 1805. 

MUNRO. HUGH ANDREW JOHNSTONE (1819-1885), British' 
scholar, was bora at Elgin on the X9th of October 1819. He 
was educated at Shrewsbury school, where he was one of 
Kennedy's first pupils, and proceeded to Trinity College, Cam- 
bridge, in 1838. He became scholar of his college in 1840. 
second classic and first chancellor's medallist in 1842, and 
fellow of his college in 1843. He became classical lecturer at 
Trinity College, and in 1869 was elected to the newly-founded 
chair of Latin at Cambridge, but resigned it in 1872. The 
great work on which his reputation b mainly based b his 
edition of Lucretius, the fruit of the labour of many years (text 
only, I vol., i860; text, conunentary and translation, 2 vols., 
1864). As a textual critic his knowledge was profound and 
his judgment unrivalled; and he made close archaeological 
studies by frequent travels in Italy and Greece. In 1867 he 
publish^ an improved text of Aetna with commentary, and 
in the following year a text of Horace with critical introduction, 
illustrated by specimens of ancient gems selected by C. W. King. 
His knowledge and taste are nowhere better shown than in his 
Criticisms and Elucidations of Catullus (1878). He was a master 
of the art of Greek and Latin verse composition. Hb contri- 
butions to the famous volume of Shrewsbury verse, Sabrinae 
coridla, are among the most renuvkable of a remarkable collec- 
tion. His Translations into Latin and Greek Verse were privately 
printed in 1884. Like his translations into En^ish, they are 
characterized by minute fidelity to the original, but never cease 
to be idiomatic. He died at Rome on the 30th of March 1885. 

. See Memoir by J. D. Duff, prefixed to a re-tssue of the trans, of 
Lucretius in " Bohn's Classical Library " (1908). 

MUNRO. MoNBO or Monsob, ROBERT (d. c, x68o), Scots 
general, was a member of a well-known family In Ross-shire, 
the Munroes of Foulis. With several of his kinsmen he served 
in the continental wars under Gustavus Adolphua; and he 



MUNRO, SIR T.— MUNSTER 



II 



appears to have returaed to Scotland about 1638, and to have 
taken some part in the early incidents of the Scottish rebellion 
against Charles I. In 1642 he went to Ireland, nominally as 
second in command under Alexander Leslie, but in fact in chief 
command of the Scottish contingent against the Catholic rebels. 
After taking and plundering Newry in April 1642, and ineffec- 
tually attempting to subdue Sir PheUm O'Neill, Munro succeeded 
in tiddng prisoner the earl of Antrim at Dunluce. The arrival 
of Owen Roe O'Neill in Ireland strengthened the cause of the 
rebels (see O'Neill), and Munro, who was poorly supplied with 
provisions and war materials, flowed little activity. Moreover, 
the dvil war in England was now creating conf uaon among parties 
in Ireland, and the king was anxious to come to terms with 
the Catholic rebels, and to enlist them on his own behalf against 
the parliament. The duke of Ormonde, Charles's lieutenant- 
general in Ireland, acting on the king's orders, signed a cessation 
of hostilities with the Catholics on Uie xsth of September 1643, 
and exerted himself to despatch aid to Charles in England. 
Munro in Ulster, holding his commission from the Scottish 
parliament, did not recognize the armistice, and his troops 
accepted the solemn league and covenant, in which they were 
joined by many English soldiers who left Ormonde to join him. 
In April 1644 the English parliament entrusted Munro with the 
command of all the forces in Ulster, both English and Scots. 
He thereupon seized Belfast, made a raid into the Pale, and 
unsucossfuUy attempted to gain possession of Dundalk and 
Drogheda. His force was weakened by the necessity for sending 
troops to Scotland to withstand Montrose; while Owen Roc 
O'Neill was strengthened by receiving supplies from Spain and 
the pope. On the 5th of Jime 1646 was fought the battle of 
Benbuxb, on the Blackwater, where O'Neill routed Munro, but 
suffered him to withdraw in safety to Carrickfergus In 1647 
Ormonde was compelled to come to terms with the English 
parliament, who sent commissioners to Dublin in June of that 
year. The Scots under Munro refused to surrender Carrick- 
fergus and Belfast when ordered by the parliament to return 
to Scotland, and Munro was superseded by the appointment of 
M«ik to the chief command in Ireland. In September 1648 
Carrickfergus was delivered over to Monk by treachery, and 
Munro was taken prisoner. He was committed to the Tower 
of London, where he remained a prisoner for five years. In 
1654 he was permitted by Cromwell to reside in Ircluid, where 
he had estates in right of his wife, who was the widow of Viscount 
Montgomery of Ardes. Munro continued to live quietly near 
Comber, Co. Down, for many yeais, and probably died there 
about 16S0. He was in part the original of Dugald Dalgetty in 
Sir Walter Scott's Legend of Montrose. 

Sec Thomas Carte, History of the Life of James, Duke of Ormonde 
(6 vols.. Oxford, 1851); Sir J. T. Gilbert, ConUmporary History of 
A fairs in Ireland 1641-1652 (3 vols., Dublin, 1879-1880) and 
History ef the Irish Confederation and the War in Ireland (7 vols.. 
I>ubtin. 1881-1891); John Spalding, Memorials of the Trouhles in 
Scotland end Enpand (3 vols.. Abetdeen, 1850); The Monltomery 
MSS^ 1603-1703, edited by G. Hill (Belfast. 1869); Sir Walter 
Scott, TkeLegend of Montrose, author's preface. 

HUHRO. SIR THOMAS (1761-X827), Anglo-Indian soldier and 
statesman, was bom at Glasgow on the 27th of May 1761, the 
son of a mochant. Educated at Glasgow University, he was 
at first intended to enter his father's business, but in 1789 he 
was appointed to an infantry cadetship in Madras. He served 
with his repment during the hard-fought war against Hyder 
All (1780-83), and again in the first campaign against Tippoo 
(1790-92). He was then chosen as one of four military 
officers to administer the Baramahal, part of the territory 
■cqaired from Tippoo, where he remained for seven years, 
Utin»t«g the principles of revenue survey and assessment which 
be afterwanb applied throughout the presidency of Madras. 
After the final downfall of Tippoo in 1799, he spent a short time 
restoring order in Kanara; and then for another seven years 
(1800-1807) he was placed in charge of the northern districts 
"ceded** by the nizam of Hyderabad, where he introduced 
the ry^wsri system of land revenue. After a long furlough 
in England, during which he gave valuable evidence upon 



matters connected with the renewal of the company's charter, 
he returned to Madras in 18 14 with special instructions to reform 
the judicial and police systems. On the outbreak of the Pindari 
War in 181 7, he was appointed as brigadier-general to conunand 
the reserve division formed to reduce the southern territories of 
the Peshwa. Of his signal services on this occasion (inning 
said in the House of Commons: " He went into the field with 
not more than five or six hundred men, of whom a very small pro- 
portion were Europeans. . . . Nine forts were surrendered to him 
or taken by assault on his way; and at the end of a silent and 
scarcely observed progress he emerged . . . leaving everything 
secure and tranquil behind him." In 1820 he was appointed 
governor of Madras, where he founded the systems of revenue 
assessment and general administration which substantially 
remain to the present day. His official minutes, published by 
Sir A, Arbuthnot, form a manual of experience and advice for 
the modem civilian. He died of cholera on the 6th of July 1827, 
while on tour in the " ceded " districts, where his name is preserved 
by more than one memorial An equestrian statue of him, by 
Chantrey, stands in Madras dty. 

See bioRraphics by G. R. Gleig (1830), Sir A. Arbuthnot (1881) 
and J. Bradshaw (1894). 

MUNSHI, or Moonshx, the Urdu name of a writer or secretary, 
used in India of the native language teachers or secretaries 
employe d by Europeans. 

MOnSTBR, GEORO, Count zu (1776-1844), German palae- 
ontologist, was born on the 17th of Febmary 1776. He formed 
a famous collection of fossils, which was ultimately secured by the 
Bavarian state, and formed the nucleus of the palaeontological 
museum at Munich. Count Mttnster assisted Goldfuss in his 
great work Pctrefacta Cermaniae, He died at Bayreuth on the 
23rd of Dece mber 1844. 

MONSTBR, SEBASTIAN (1489-1552), German geographer, 
mathematician and Hebraist, was bom at Ingclheim in the 
Palatinate. After studying at Heidelberg and Tubingen, he 
entered the Franciscan order, but abandoned it for Luther- 
anism about 1539. Shortly afterwards he was appointed court 
preacher at Heidelberg, where he also lectured in Hebrew and 
Old Testament exegesis. From 1536 he taught at Basel, where 
he published his Cosmographia universalis in 1544, and where 
he died of the plague on the 23rd of May 1552. A disciide 
of Elias Levita, he was the first German to edit the Hebrew 
Bible (2 vols., fol., Basel, iS34-iS3S); this edition was accom- 
panied by a new Latin trandation and a large number of anno- 
tations. He published more than one Hebrew gramnuu', and 
was the first to prepare a Crammatica chaldaica (Basel, 1527). 
His lexicographical labours included a Dictionarium chaldaicum 
(1527), and a Dictionarium Irilinguet of Latin, Greek and 
Hebrew (1530). But his most important work was his Cosmo- 
graphia, which also appeared in German as a Beschreibung aller 
Ldnder, the first detailed, scientific and popular description of 
the world in Mtinster's native language, as well as a supreme 
effort of geographical study and literature in the Reformation 
period. In this MUnster was assisted by more than one hundred 
and twenty collaborators. 

The most valued edition of the Cosmographia or Beschreibunt 
is that of 1550. especially prized for its portraits and its city ano 
costume pictures. Besides the works mentioned above we may 
notice MUnster's Cermaniae descriptioof 1530. his Nonts orbis ol 
1^33. his Ma^pa Europae of 1536, his Rhaetta of 1538. his editions 
of Solinus, Mela and Ptolemy in 1338-1540 and among non- 
geographical treatises his Horoiogiographia, 1531. on dialling (see 
Dial), his Organum uranicum of 1536 on the planetary motions, and 
his Rudimenta mathematica of 1551. His published maps numbered 
142. 

See V. Hantzsch. Sebastian Mtlnster (1898). in vol. xviii. of the 
Publications of the Royal Society of Sciences of Saxony, Historical- 
Philological Section). 

HONSTER, a town of Germany, In the district of Upper 
Alsace, 16 m. from Colmar by rail, and at the foot of the Vosges 
Mountains. Pop. (1905), 6078. Its principal industries arc 
spinning, weaving and bleaching. The town owes its origin 
to a Benedictine abbey, which was founded in the 7th century, 
and at one time it was a free city of the empire. In its 



12 



MUNSTER— MUNSTERBERG, H. 



ndghb«urhood is the ruin of Schwarzenberg. The Mdnstertal, 

or Gregoriental, which is watered by the river Fecht, is famous 

for its cheese. 

See Rathgeber, MunsterHm-Cretonental (Strassburg, 1874) and 
F. Hcclcer. Die Stadl und das Tal tu MUnster im S Gregoriental 
(MQnstcr, 1890). 

MOnSTER* a town of Germany, capital of the Prussian pro- 
vince of Westphalia, and formerly the capital of an important 
bishopric. It lies in a sandy plain on the Dortmund-Ems canal, 
at the junction of several railways, 107 m. S.W. of Bremen 
on the line to Cologne. Pop. (1885), 44,060; (1905) 81,468. 
The town preserves its medieval character, especially in the 
" Prinzipal-Markt " and other squares, with their lofty gabled 
houses and arcades. The fortifications were dismantled during 
the 1 8th century, their place being taken by gardens and prome- 
nades. Of the many churches of MUnster the most important 
is the cathedral, one of the most striking in Germany, although 
disfigured by modem decorations. It was rebuilt in the 13th 
and 14th centuries, and exhibits a combination of Romanesque 
and Gothic forms; its chapter-house is specially fine. The 
beautiful Gothic church of St Lambert (14th century) was 
largely rebuilt after 1868; on its tower, which is 313 ft. in height, 
hang three iron cages in which the bodies of John of Leiden 
and two of his followers were exposed in x 536. The church of 
St Ludger, erected in the Romanesque style about 11 70, was 
extended in the Gothic style about 200 years later; it has a 
tower with a picturesque lantern. The church of St Maurice, 
founded about 1070, was rebuilt during the 19th century, and 
the Gothic church of Our Lady dates from the 14th century. 
Other noteworthy buildings are the town-hall, a fine Gothic 
building of the 14th century, and the Stadtkeller, which contains 
a collection of early German paintings. The room in the town- 
hall called the Friedens Saal, in which the peace of Westphalia 
' was signed in October 1648, contains portraits of many ambas- 
sadors and princes who were present at the ceremony. The 
Schloss, built in 1767, was formerly the residence of bishops of 
MQnstcr. The private houses, many of which were the winter 
residences of the nobUity of Westphadia, are admirable examples 
of German domestic architecture in the i6th, 17th and i8th 
centuries. The university of MUnster, founded after the Seven 
Years' War and closed at the beginning of the X9th century, 
was reopened as an academy in 181 8, and again attained the 
rank of a universiiy in 1902. It possesses faculties of theology, 
philosophy and law. In connexion with it are botanical and 
zoological gardens, several scientific collections, and a library of 
120,000 volumes. Miinster is the seat of a Roman Catholic 
bishop and of the administrative and judicial authorities of 
Westphalia, and is the headquarters of an army corps. The 
Wcstphalian society of antiquaries and several other learned 
bodies also have their headquarters here. Industries include 
weaving, dyeing, brewing and printing, and the manufacture of 
furniture and machines. There is a brisk trade in cattle, grain 
and other products of the neighbourhood. 

History. — Munster is first mentioned about the year 800, 
when Charicmagnc made it the residence of Ludger, the newly- 
appointed bishop of the Saxons. Owing to its distance from 
any available river or important highway, the growth of the 
settlement round the monasterium was dow, and it was not 
until after 11 86 that it received a charter, the name MQnster 
having supplanted the original name of Mimcgardevoord about 
a century cariier. During the 13th and X4th centuries the 
town was one of the most prominent members of the Hanseatic 
League. At the time of the Reformation the citizens were 
inclined to adopt the Protestant doctrines, but the excesses 
of the Anabaptists led in 1535 to the armed intervention of 
the bishop and to the forcible suppression of all divergence 
from the older faith. The Thirty Years* War, during which 
MUnster suffered much from the Protestant armies, was ter- 
minated by the peace of Westphalia, sometimes called the peace 
of MQnster, because it was signed here on the 34th of October 
1648. The authority of the bishops, who seldom resided at 
Monster, was usually somewhat limited, but in x66i Bishop 



Christoph Bemhard von Galen took the place by force, buflt a 
citadel, and deprived the dtizens of many of their privileges. 
During the Seven Years' War MUnster was occupied both 
by the French and by their foes. Towards the close of the 
i8th century the town was recognized as one of the intellectual 
centres of Germany. 

The bishopric of MQnster embraced an area of about 2500 sq. m. 
and contained about 350,000 inhabitants. Its bishops, who 
resided generally at Ahaus, were princes of the empire. In 
the 17th century Bishop Galen, with his army of 20,000 men, 
was so powerful that his alliance was sought by Charles II. of 
England and other European sovereigns. The bishopric was 
secularized and its lands annexed to Prussia in 1803. 

See Getsbeig. MerkvOrdigkeiUn der Sladt Miinster (1877): Erhard, 
GesekichU MUnsten (1837); A.Tibut. Die Stadt J/iiiisler (MQnster, 
1862): Helltnghaus, QuiUen und Forschungen tur GesekichU der 
Stadt MUnsUr (MQnster. 1898); Picper. Die alte Universitdt MUnster 
t773-tSi8 (MQnster, 1902). See also TQcking, GesekichU des Stifts 
MUnster unter C. B. von Galen (MQnster, 1865). 

MUNSTER, a province of Ireland occupying the S.W. part of 
the island. It includes the counties Clare, Tippcrary, Limerick, 
Kerry, Cork and Waterford {q.v. for topography, &c.). After, 
the occupation of Ireland by the Milesians, Munster \Mumka) 
became nominally a provincial kingdom; but as the territory was 
divided between two families there was constant friction and 
it was not until 237 that Oliol Olum established himself as king 
over the whole. In 248 he divided his kingdom between his 
two sons, giving Desmond (7.9., Des-Mumka) to Eoghan and 
Thomond {Tuadk-Mumka) or north Munster to Cormac. He 
also stipulated that the rank of king of Munster should belong 
in turn to their descendants. In this way the .kingship of 
Munster survived until 1x94; but there were kings of Desmond 
and Thomond down to the i6th century. Munster was originally 
of the same extent as the present province, excepting that it 
included the distria of Ely, which belonged to the O'Carrols 
and formed a part of the present King's County. During the 
1 6th century, however, Thomond was for a time included in 
Connaught, being declared a county under the name of Clare 
iq.v.) by Sir Henry Sidney. Part of Munster had been included 
in the system of shiring generally attributed to King John. In 
1570 a provincial presidency of Munster (as of Connaught) 
was established by Sidney, Sir John Perrot being the first 
president, and lasted until 1672. Under Perrot a practically 
new shiring was carried out. 

MONSTER am STEIN, a watering-place of Germany, in the 

Prussian Rhine province, on the Nahe, 2} m. S. of Kreuznach, 

on the railway from Bingerbrttck to Strassburg. Pop. (1905), 

915. Above the village are the ruins of the castle of Rhein- 

grafenstein (12th century), formeriy a seat of the count palatine 

of the Rhine, which was destroyed by the French in 1689, and 

those of the castle of Ebernburg, the ancestral seat of the lords 

of Sickingen, and the birthplace of Franz von Sickingen, the 

famous landsJcnecht captain and protector of Ulrich von Huttcn, 

to whom a monument was erected on the slope near the ruins 

in 1889. The spa (saline and carbonate springs), specific in 

cases of feminine disorders, is visited by about 5000 patients 

annually. 

See Welsqh. Das Sol- und Tkermatbad Munster am Stein (Kreuz- 
nach, 1886) and Messcr. Fuhrer durch Bad Kreuznach und Miinster 
am Stein (Kreuznach, 1905). 

MONSTERBERG, HUGO ( 1 863- ) , German- American psycho- 
physiologist, was bom at Danzig. Having been extraordinary 
professor at Freiburg-im-Breisgau, he became in 1892 pro- 
fessor of psychology at Harvard University. Among his more 
important works are BeitrUge zur experimentellen Psyckdogie 
(4 vols., Freiburg, 1889-1892); Psychology and Life (New 
York, 1899); CrundzUge der Psychologie (Leipzig, 1900); 
American Traits from the Point of Vino of a German (Boston, 
1901); Die Amerikaner (several ed.; Eng. trans. 1904); Science 
and Idealism (New York, 1906); Philosophic der Werte (Leipzig, 
1908); Aus Deutsch-Amerika (Berlin, 1908); Psychology and 
Crime (New York, 1908). He has been prominently identified 
with the modem developments of experimental psychology 



MUNSTERBERG— MUNZER 



ie PnisHin pro- 



HONRKBBEBO, a Imn of CRmuiy, 
vincc (4 SiaU, on Itz Ohlau, jA m. by nil ^. u1 Urolau. top. 
(igos), &47S- It il Partly surrounded by mcdirval wills. It 
hu nunutuiliuis of dnin-pipa and f^njirool briclul Ihnc ue 
■bo (ulphuT ipringL Manilcrberg wu lormcrly the capital 
of the prindpility of the same name, which enstcd from the 
I4t^ taiiuiy down (o 1791* when it was purthased by the 
l4ti<iun cnnm. Kcsi Ihc Ujwd is ibe forma Cistciciui abbey 
of Kcmnchau. 

nnrrUTER. RAMOH (iies-Ujfi?), Catalan Uitoriu, was 
boni al Pcralada (CaUknda) in 1165. The chief evenu of his 
carta are recorded in bis cbituiicle. He accompanied Rogei dc 
Floi to Sicily in ijoo, was pnsent at the siege of Messina, 
served is the eipcdition of the AlmogivaTes againit Asia Minor, 
and became the first Bovemor of GallipoLi. Later be was 
appointed gavrmot of Jerba or Zerbi, an island In the GulE of 
Cibei, and finally entered the service of the infante ol Majorca, 
On till! isth of Way 1315 (some editions give the year ujs) he 
bcfan his CktaHiai. dacripcia 6di feU, e kaanai dd ind)t 

command ol God who ^qxnrcd to him in a vision- Muntaner's 
boiA, which was first printed at Valends in isjS, is the chief 
aatbofity loi the evenis of Ilis period, and his narrative, though 
occuionally prolix, unoitical and egotislical. b faithful and 
vivid. Heissaidtohavediedin i^G. 

His chronic^ Is nwet accessible in Ibe edition published by Karl 
Lani at SeutlEait in ]S44. 

KDHTJACi the Indian name of a anull deer typifying the 
lEDits Cerwmiv^ all the members of which are indigenous to Ihc 
soulbeni SJid eastern pans of Aua and the adjacent islands, 
and are separaled by marlied chaiaclcrs (nm all their allies. 
For the distinctive features o! the genus see Deui. A) regards 
genml chaiictnislica, all muntjaca are small compared with 
Ihe majority of deer, and have long bodies and rather short 
Embs and neck. The antlers of the bucks sre small and simple; 




The Indian Mantjac {Onlu mnljat!). 
the main stem or beam, after giving ofl a sfaoit braw-tiOE, En- 
diniBg backwatds and upwards, being unbnncbed and pointed, 
tad wbcD fully developed curving fawatds and somewbai down- 
wards at Ihe tip- These small antlen are supported upon 
pediclea, or proreses of the frontal bones, longer than in any 
other deer, the front edges of these being continued downwards 
as strode ridges passing along the sides of the face above the 
e^-es- From this feature the name lib-faced deer has been 
sugs'sted for the munljac The upper canine teelb of tbe males 
are large and sharp, prDjecttng outside the mouth as tusks, and 
kcady imidanted ia thdr sockets. In Ibe temala tbey are 



Huntjan an sotilaiy' animals, even two being rarely 
together. They are fond ol hilly ground covered wiih foi 
in tbe dense thkkets ol wbicb ih^ pass most ol their time, 
coming to the sk' ' "' 



'ening to 
irry Ihe head and neck low and the hind-quarters 
high, their action in running being peculiar and not deganl, 
somewhat resembling Ibe pace of a sheep. Though with no 
power of sustained speed or extensive leaping, they are remaiii- 
abk for fleiibilily of body and fadlily of creeping thnugh 
tangled underwood. A ptqiular name with Indian sportsmen 
is " barking deer," on account of the alarm-cry — a kind of short 
shrill bark, like that of a foi, but louder- When atlackwl by 
dop, the males use their sharp canine teeth, which Inflict deep 

the lielght of the buck is f rom 20 to » Id.; 



m Tibet and Hangchow In 



ht reddiih-brown coat. The smal 

' oulheni China and bi 

' k ney and a U 

E(C/nH).aboin 



E. atkaloeiiu al Tibet, £- miij 
at Ibe mountaiu of lehang- 

NONZEB. THOMAS (c. 14S9-1J95), Cer 






I llie typical munljaci with ihe imalUufted ieer or tufted 
n colour with light 

iiiiu dI Sinapo- and 

ID religious enthu- 
thcendef tbeislh 
century, and educated at Leipzig andFranlifort. graduating la 
theology. He held preaching appaintinents in various places, 
but his restless nature prevented him from remaining la one 
position for any length of time. In ijio he became a preacher 
al tbe church ol St Uity, Zwickau, and his rude eloquence, 
together with his attacks on the monks, soon raised him to 
influence- Aided by Nichi^a* Storch. he formed a society the 
principles of which were akin to those of Ihe Taboiites, and 
claimed that he wss under the direct influence of the Holy 
Spirit- His seal for Ihe purification of the Churrb by casting 
oul all unbelievers brought him into conflict with Ibe gaverning 
body of the town, and be was compelled to leave Zwickau. He 
then went to Prague, where his preaching won numerous ad- 
herents, but his violent language brought about his expulsion 






kt Easier 



MUnzi 



of St John. 

violence, however, aroused the hostility ol Luther, in letalialion 
lor which MUnier denounced the Wiltenberg leaching. His 
preaching soon produced an uproar in AUstedt. and after holding 
his own for some time he left the town and went to MUhlhausen, 
here Helnrich FfeiSer was already pi 



;. Theui 



lof H 
1 both w 



. Luther, who had 



ibcrg, whoe hi 
been mainly instrumental in bringing aPout nis expulsion irom 
Saxony. About this time bis teaching became still more Solent- 
He dowunced established governments, and advocated common 
owoei^p of the means of life- After a tour In south Germany 
he returned to HOblbausen, ovtithrew the governing body of 
the dty, and established a communistic theocracy- Tlie 
Peasanii' War had already broken out in various parts of 
Gerniai^; and as the pcAAanlry around MUhlhausen were imbued 
vritb MOnicr's leaching, he collected a targe body of men to 



tr Ihe I 



unlry. 



of May 



dispersed by Philip, landgrave of Hesse, who captured Mans 
-  '■ - ■'  MUhlhausen. Before b 



MUNZINGER— MORAD 



datb he b nid lo hive written a letter tdmlttlnf the Justice of 



t Jordan (MflKltuuKn, 1901). ind a Life of MOiuer. 

l5n^,"™b^.ltribulHl 10 Philip Mdinchlfl^n fHlimii.,^s). 
S« C. T. SLic^brl, Litn. Sciriflni md Ukrcn TluimS UUkImcti 
(NurrmbRE. 1795): I. K. Sridirmanii, Tlumial Uiinirr ILripm, 
1S43] ; a. Mm, riuMU Udiixr kHi /rn'nniH P/cUTcr (GilEiiigcn. 
isigS; C. WoUnu, rJUmui ifimc m iltluaK Ucna. iS^). 

MDNZIHOEB, WBHREB (1S31-1S7S), Swi« linguill ud 
(nvelitt, wu bora tt Olten in Swiuerluid, an the iiit ol Apiil 
l8j). After itudying nitural idence, Oriental language! and 
hiilory, at Beni, Munich and Paria. he went to Egypt in i8s> 
and ipent a year m Cairo perfecting hinuelf in Anhic Entering 
a French mercantile home, he nent as lesdec of a liadiog expe- 
dition to varioui parts of the Red Ses, biing his tjuarten at 
Masian, where be acted IS Freach cuniul. In i8jj he removed 
to Eenn, the chief lown of the Bngoa, in the nonh of Abyninia. 
which country be explored during tlie next >ii yeara. In iSfii 
be Joined the expedition under T. von Heuglin to Central Africa, 
but separated from him in November in northern Abyssinia, 
proceeding along the Gash and Albara to KhartumT Thence, 
having meantime succeeded Heuglin as leader of the eipeditioa, 
he liayelled in iSdj lo Kordofln, failing, however, in his altempt 
to reach Daifur and Wadaj. After a short auy In Europe in 
1S65, Munxinger returned to the north and north-east border- 
bnds of Abyssinia, and in 1865, the year ol the anncialion of 
Maisawa by Egypt, waa appointed British consul at that town. 
He rendered valuable aid to the Abyuinitn eipeditioo of 
1S67-CS, among other things exploting the almost uni:nown 
Afar country. In acknowledgment of his services he received the 
C.B. In 1868 he waa appointed French consul at Massawa, and 

with the title of bey. lo 1870, with Captain S. B, Mitei, Mun- 
linger visited southern Arabia. As governor of Massawa he 
annexed la Egypt tbe Bogoa and Hsmasen provinces of northern 
Abyssinia, and in 18;] wu made pasha and govemor-general 
of the eastern Sudan. It is believed that it waa on hisidvice 
that Isnuil sanctioned the Abyssinian enlerpiise, hut on the war 
anuminglarger proportions in 1875 the command of the Egyptiaa 
troopainnorthemAbyasinia was taken from MunzingeT, who waa 
aelected to command a small eipcdilioa iniecdcd to open up 
communication with Mcncick, kingol Sboa, then at erunity with 
the negus Johannes (King John) and a potential ally of Egypt. 
Leaving Tajura Bay on the I7lh of October 1S7J Munxinger 
alarted for Ankober with a force of 350 men, being accompanied 
by an envoy from Menelek. The desert country to be tttversed 
waa in the hands of hcstile tribes, and on reacbidg Lake Ausia 
the expedition was attacked during the night by Gallas — Mun. 
linger, with bis wife mi ne«^ all bis companions, being 
killed. 

MumJoeer'i cmtrihuHons to the knowledge of the counlry. 
■people and laneuaget of north-eaticni Afria are of aolid value. 
See fV«. R.C.S:, MdL xiii.i Jm.™. K.CX. voU. iLOdx.. ilL and ilvi. 
(obiluaiy notice): PrUrmanns Uillriltmm lor 1S5S, 1«67. 1S71 
*t leq.; DietichI and Weber, Ifrnxr IfiUKetr. ns LOaubild 

1ll»}: ]- V. Keller-Zachokke. Wcmir UumnMr Failu {1890). 
lunilnger pDbUriied tbe lollowin; worki: (Ibtr Ut SUM ani iai 












HtnUD. 01 Akuuth, the name of five Ottoman sultana. 

MintAD I., sumamed Khudavendighiu (1319-1384), was the 
•on of Orkhan and the Greek princess Niiofer, and succeeded 
bis father in ijsg. He was the fini Turkish monarch to obtain 
a definite footing in Europe, and his main object throughout 
bis nueet was to extend the European dominiona of Turkey. 
The revolts of the prince of Canmania interfered with the 
realixation of this plan, and trouble was caused from this quarter 
more than once during his reign until the decisive battle of Konia 
(tjB?), when the power of the ptinee of Caramani* was broken. 



The lUte of Europe facfDuted Mond'a projects: dvfl war and 
anarchy prevailed in most of the countriei of Central Europe 
where the feudal system was at ita last gaap, and the unsU 
Balkan states wen divided by mutual jealousies. The capture 
of Adriarupfe, followed by other conquests, brought about a 
coalition under the king ol Hungary against Murad, but his able 
lieutenant Lataahahin, the fitil btylvbey of Rumfiia, defeated 
the allies it (be battle ol the Miritsi In 136J. In ijM the 
king of Servia was defeated at Samakov izid forced to pay 
tribute. Kustendil, Phiiippopolis and Nish fell into the baarb 
ol the Turks; a renewal of the war in rjSi led to the csptute 
t>f Soha two years later, Europe waa imw aroused; I^xar, 
king of Scrvia, formed an ■lli'iw with the Albanians, Ihe 
Hungarians and Ihe Moldavians against the Turks. Murad 
hastened btck to Europe and met his enemies on Ihe field of 
Kossovo (ijSg). Victory finally Inclined to the aide of the 
Turka. When Ihe rout of Ihe Christians was complete, a Servian 
named Miloah Kahilovich penetrated to Murad 's lenl on pretence 
of communicating an important secret to the sulun, ind subbed 
Ihe conqueror. Murad was of independent character and 
remarkable Intelligence. He waa fond of pleasure and luxury, 
cruel and cunning. Long relegated to the command of a distant 
province in Asia, while hn bnilher Suleiman occupied an enviable 
post in Europe, he became revengeful ; thus he eietdsed great 
cruelty in the repreesion of Ihe rebellion of his son Ptinee Sauji 









to Adrianople, 



Murad transferred the C 
where he bui)i 1 palai 
the town. The development of the feudal gyilem of limars and 
aamels and its extension to Europe was largely his work. 
Mdiad II. (i4oj-i4sr) succeeded his falhet Msbonuned L 



in It 



. The a 



It of his uncle Prince Huslaf 



the throne, sappotted as it 
the outset of his reign, *nd led to the unsuccessful siege of 
Constantinople In 1411. Murad maintained a long struggle 
against the Bosnians and Hungarians, In the coiiiie of which 
Turkey sustained many severe reverses through Ihe valour of 
Janos HunyadL Accordingly in 1444 he concluded 1 treaty at 
Szegedin for len years, by which he renounced all claim to Servia 
and recognixed George Brancovich aa ita king. Shortly after 
this, being deeply alleclcd by the death of his eldest son Prince 
Ala-ud.din, he abdicated in favour of Mahommed, bis second 
son, then fourteen years of age. But the tteachetous attack, Itt 
violation ol treaty, by the Christian powers, Imposing too hard 
a task on the inexperienced young sovereign, Murad relumed 
from hb lelircmenl It Magnesia, crushed his faithleas enemici 
at Ihe battle of Vuna (November 10, 1444), and again withdrew 
to Magnesia. A revolt ol Ihe Janissaries induced him to rctiun 
to power, and he apeni the remaining six years of bis life irt 
warfare In Europe, defeating Hunyadi at Kossovo (October 
17-10, T44S). He died at Adrianople in 1451. and waa buried 
at Bruia. By some considered as 1 fanatical devotee, and by 
others u ^ven up to myslidsm, be ii generally described is 
kind and gentle In disposilion, and devoled to the interests of 

MuuD m. (iS4A-isg5), was Ibe eldest ton of Selim It., 
and succeeded bis father in 15)4. His accession marks the 
definite beginning of Ibe decline ol the Ottoman power, which 
had only bnn maintained under Selim II. by the genius of Ihe 
all-powerful grand vixier Mahommcd SokoUL For, though 



Sokoll 



"SJ8. 



ithorily was undermined by Ihe harem loduences, which 
with Mnnd in. were supreme. Of these the most powerful 
WIS that of the sultan's chief wife, named Safit (Ihe pure), a 
beautiful Venetian of the noble family of Baffo, whose lather 
had been governor of Corfu, and who bad been captured aa k 
child by Turkish cotstiis and sold into the harem. This lady, 
in spite of Ihe sultan's sensuality and of the efforta, temporarily 
succcaaful, to supplant ha in his favouri retained her ascendancy 
over him to the last. Murad had none ol the qualities of > 
ruler. He waa good-natured, though cruel enough on occailod: 
his ■"■'"■"" bad been nutked by tbe murder, accetdint to the 



atom tbea — t.MhfcjJ, of hit G*e brMhen. Hb wfO-tBWB 
bid tmtfy been' ODdctmined by the Dphun hibiL, uid wu hinhir 
imfcmH tqt the Mnuul acoMa thu ultimildy killid 
Mm bad be any Une lot nile; hii days war qxnt in tba Bodety 
ri tirnikiim. bnSDoni ind poeU, and ho hinudf dabitlcd ' 
Tcne-puldac of a myitic tendeacy. 

Hi* one utempt at niann, the older tottiiddiii( the nle o( 
luoiicuiti lo u to itop the gmwlnc intempcnnce td the 
jiniiariei, broke down on the oppiwtioB of Ibe laldiery. He 
vu the bst ultu to ihuc penoniUy tn the proceedi of the 

 by Ibe ule o( oSca. Thii comiption wu fatally 

 e army, the feudal baaii of which wai upped by 

B of iffi for the benefit of Domineci of favourites 

through the ume influeocei 




the Ciimea, Dsgbeslan, Yi ...... 

prevent Ibe decay of the Ottonun pomr; indeed, by Wailiemcg 
' n lUtet, thty butencd ibc proctv. noce they 
' -4X of Ruuit to Ibe Black Sotand ibe 



Murad, triio bad welcomed (he Fcr^n War u i good oppor- 
tunity for ridding himaeli of the prcHnce of Ibe Janluariea, 
whom lie drtaded, bad loon cauie to fear their Iriumphant 
retuTTi. locfnied by the deba^ng of Lhe coinage, which robbed 
them of part of their pay, they invaded the Divan clamouring 
fgr the heads c< Ibe uillan'i favDurile, the bryUrbcy of Rumelia, 
tod of the dtJUrdar (finance minisler), which were thrown to 
ttem (April J, 1589). This was the firat lime that the jsnlsurici 
had invaded the palace: a precedent lo be loa often followed. 
The ouibreaii of another European wu in IS91 gave iheiultan 
an Dpponunity of ridding bimHlf of lheirpresenc«. Murad died 
m 1595, leaving to his luctessot a legacy ol war and anaichy. 

It wu under Murad IIL tlul England's rtlalions vilh the 
Porte began. NeGotiations were opened In ijjg with Queen 
Qiabcth ihnni)^ ceiliin Britiib merchantsi in ijSo ihc Gni 
Capitutatiota witb England were aignedi In 158] William 
Harebone, the £1^ BriLiah ambassador to. the Pone, arrived 
It Coratantinopte, and in 1593 commercial Capitulations were 
l^ned with England granting the lame privileges as those 
ttjayrd by the French. (See CAFITUUnoHB.) 

MtTun IV. (i6ii-i&ii>) was the nn of Sultan Ahmed I., 
aad sacccrikd his uncle Mustafa L ui 16]]. For the £nt nine 
yean of his rdgn his youth prevented him from taking more than 
aa abvrver^B part in afTairs. But the lessons thus learnt were 
suSdenily striking to mould hii whole character and policy. 
The minority of the sultan give full play to the anuchic elements 
ia the slate; the soldiery, ^ahii sod janisatiea, conscious of 
their power and lecklesl Ihrougb Impunity, rose in revolt 
witncva the whim seized them, demanding piivileget and the 
hods of those who displeased them, not sparing even the 
Eilian'a favourites. In 1631 the qiahis of Asia Minor rose in 
remit, in proiesl a^nst the deposition of the grand vizier 
Ehosrev; their lepieienlatives ciowded to Constantinople, 
■oned the new grand viser, Halii, in the court o[ the palace. 



aod paisoed the sultan 



1 ttie ii 



n heads ol bis advisanand favouriira 
on penalty of his own deposition. Hafiz was nirrendertd, : 
mhiniary martyr; other minislen were deposed; Musiafi 
Fa^ha, aga of lhe janissaries, was saved by his own iroopi 



IMabommed the Creek); and on the igth of May 1631, by a 
ncceslu! personal appeal to the loyaJly ol the janissaries, 
Uurad crushed lhe rebels, whom he surrounded in the Hippo- 
drone. At the age of twenty he fonnd himself possessed of 
(flective autociUic posKI. 



Bit tenrily has remained legendary. Death was the penalty 
lor lhe least offence, and no past services — at Kocs Mahommed 
waa to find to his cost^ — were admitted in extenuation. The uie 
of lobacxo. coBee, opium and wine wen foibiddes on pain 
of death ; eighteen persons are said to have been put to death in 
a lin^ day for lafiingin| this rule. During Ui whole leicii. 
Indeed. tUMMted oSenden againit the sultan's authority were 
done to d^th. singly or in thousands. The tale of his vicUni* is 
said to Lave eicgeded loe.ooo. 

But If be waa the most ciuel. Murad was also one of the most 
manly, of the later sultaiis. He waa of gigantic strength, which 
he maintained by constant physical eicrdses. He waa alsl> 
fond of bunting, and for this reason usually lived at Adrianople. 
He broke Ihrougb Ibe alleged tradition, ber^ueatbed by Suleiman 
the Magnificent to his su cc eaaots, that the sultan should not 
command the troops in person, and took command in the 
Persian war which led to the capture of Bagdad (i6}S) and the 
conclusion of an honourable peace (May 7, i6jg). Early In 1640 
be died, barely twenly-nine yean of age. The cause of his death 
was acute gout brought on by eiceisive drinking. In ^te ti 
bis drunkeDness, however, Muiad was a bigoted Sunnl, and Uw 
main cause of bis campaign against Persia was his desire 10 
extirpate the Sbia heresy. In the iolervalt of bis campaigning! 
and crueltiet the tulian would amuse bis entourage by e^bit- 
ing feats of sirengih. or compoae veraea, some of which were 
published under the pseudonym of MuradL 

ibovF. J. von Hanuner-Purgilall. 



eaiuini Aicjka (Feat. I&40), ^ 






MniAD V. (i84D-rQ04), eldest son of Sultan Abd-ul-Mejid. 
was bom on the list of September 1840. On the accession of 
his tmcle Abd-ul-Aais, Prince Mahommed Murad Effendi — 
as he was then called — was deprived of all share In public 
affairs and Imprisoned, owing to bis ^position to the siiltan^i 
plan tor altering the order of succession. On the deposition ol 
Abd-ul-Azii on the 301b of Hay i8]6, Uurad was haled from bit 
prison by a mob of softas and soldiers of (he " Young Turkey " 
party under Suleiman Pasha, and proclaimed " emperor by the 
grace of God and the will ol the people." Three tnonths later, 
however, his health, undermined by his bog confinement, gave 
way; and on lhe jist of August he was deposed to make toom 
for bis younger brother, Abd-ul-HamId II. He was kept in 
confinement in the Cheragan palace till bit death on the i^th of 
August 1904. 

See Kjralry, ItBurai V.. priHa, lallaH. prinmnitr iUal 1S40- 
7S76 (Pang. 1378) ; Diemaleddin Bey. S<-Ua<i Mmad V.. On TurHik 
Zlyiuuly ilyOity, tS}6-lSg$ (London, 1S9J}. 

miRAEIIA, the name of an eel common in the Meditenaneao, 
and highly cUecroed by the andcnl Bomaosi it ma alterwarda 




the Indo-PadBc. 
the whole genus of £ih« to which the Mediterranetii 
I DeJongs, and which is abundantly represented in tropical 
lb-tropical seas, espedaliy in rocky parts or on coral reefs. 
Some ninety spedes ate knocn. In the mtjotity a long fin 
Ibe bead along the back, round the tail to the vent. 



MURAL DECORATION 



.e ol pcctonl and ventral 



lelcu and imwlh, 
! brighi cclDura, id iliil thew £sha 
jnaka. The mouth i> wide, ihe jai 
midable, generally ihaiply pointed, 

A only lo BcLzc iti prey (which chieliy 



33. The ikin : 

Inquently mistake 
rang ind inned wit 



other fishes) but also to inflict w 



nom woo approach 
t, and is leared by 



onfined to ihe ( 
Ji Oceai 



Some ol Ihe tR^cal Uuraenai exceed a length of lo It., but 
most ol the apecie), among Ibem the Mediterrtoesn (peciei, 
attain to only ball that length. The latter, the " morem " o[ 
the Italian! and tbe Unrama luitna b\ jchihyologiits, was 
con^dered by the ancient Romans to be one ol the greatest 
delicadea. and was kept in large ponds and aquaria. It is not 
lauthera Europe, but is spread over the 

Its body is genciallyolancb blown, maiked with tuge yellowish 

MURAL DECORATION,  general term loi the art of onunien 
lag wall lurfacei, Thece is scarcely one ol the nuni nius 
bnnchet ol detontive itt which has not at some tune or h 
been applied to this purpotc.' Foi what may be caQed be 
practical or fumiihing point ol view, see Waix<ovebin 
Bere the subject is treated rathec as pan ol the hiuoiy rt 

I. Rdieji lailplurtd tn UariU ot Stmt.—Tha ii the des 
method of wall-decoration, of which numerous examples ti 
The tombs and temples of Egypt are rich in this kind ol m ral 

These Kulptures ate, as amle, carved in low reliel; in many cases 
they are " caunler-iuok," that is, the most projecting jarts o 
the figures do not eittnd beyond Ihe Sat lutlace of the grouod 
Some unfinished relieli discovettd In Ihe tock-ciit tombs o 
Thebes show the manner in which the tculptot set 10 w k 
The plain suilace ol the slonc was marked out by red lines i 
number of squares of equaJ size. The use ol this wA probab 
' '  '     lirging the deiigr ' 



Kisliiico 






excessive tealisni or individuality ol i 
study ol the life-model was permitte 
been covered with tbese squares, the 
dipped in red the outlines ol his reliel 



proportions, loUowing h 
by the Egyptians. N 

:.' When the surface h d 
anisl drew with a brush 



rarely the ground was left the natural tint ol the stone t 
and only the figures and hieroglyplis painted. In tt 
sculpture in hard basalt or granite the painting appi 
10 have been omitted altogether. The absence ol pc 
elTccts and tbe severe lell-reslrainl ol the sculptors in I 



ol the irtisLs is apparent when we eiaj 
ol birds and animalsi the special chan 
and species were 



le their 






•ught by the ancient Egyptian 
ana reproaucea id (tone or colour, in a half-symbolic way 
suggesting those peculiarities ol lorm, plumage, or raovemen 
which are the " dilletcitia " ol each, other ideas bearing les 
directly on tbe point being eliminated. 

Tlie subjects ol these mural sculptures are endless; almoi 
every possible incident in man's lile here or beyond the grav 
is repimiuced with the closest detail. The tomb ol Hh a 
Sakkarah (about 4soo B.C.) bu some ol the finest and earlies 
specimens of these mural sculptuies, especially rich in illustn 

• See al»CEBA Mies; Mosaic ;pAisiiK0;SciJLrTU«e;T*re5TsY 
TiLBs:a]iaEcrrTMrlai4,4rc*a«'gt/;GaeEKAKt; Rohan Aai 



lions of the domestic I 

ritual and belief of the 
hieratic subjects with tl 
the Egyptian kings. 

be applied also to tbe Ball-sculptures iTinn Ihe royal palacei of 
Nineveh and Babylnn, the finest ol which are shown by inscrip- 
tions to date from Ihe time of Sennacherib to that ol Saidana- 
palus (from joj to 615 B.C.). These are carved in low reliel with 
almost gem-like delicacy of detail on enormous slabs of white 
marble. The sacred subjects, generally represenling tbe king 
worsh^iptng one of Ihe numerous Assyrian gods, are mostly 
large, olten colossal in scale. The other subjects, illustrating 

bunting, et long procesuons of prisoners and tribute-bearers 
coining to do him homage, are generally smaller and in some cases 
veiy mlnn in scale Sg Th arrang 



leople, and the temples combine th :sc 
history of Ihe reigns and victories ol 



these relieft 




love for dramatic eSecI than an; 
Ihe art of Egypt, birds and ai 

representing a lioness wounded by an arrow in her sjune and 
dragging helplessly her paralysed bind legs, aflords an eiample 
of wonderlul truth and pathos. Remarkable technical skill is 
shown in all these sculptures by the way in which the sculptors 
have obtained tbe utmost amount ol eSect with the smallest 
possible amount nl reliel, in this respect celling strongly to mind 
a similar peculiarity in the work ol the Florentine Donatello. 

The palace at Mashila on the hajj road in Moah, built by Ihe 
Sasaniin Chosroes II. (iji. 614-61;), is ornamented on ihc 
The deugns 



decoration on Moslem buik 
date.' 
Especially in Italy during th 



ok betwe 
itely con 



h the 



hat oldest and mo« widely 

tient day they Irequendy 
-"■■' — nulacture. 



MURAL DECORATION 



(< maibk la low reUd ir 

Them 



L frequently need (or vall'deCDntioD. 
u ooEutie eumpie b the bemutif ul Bcnd of reliefs od Ibe 
at ol Orvieto Cubcdnl, Ibe work of Giavumi Fiiaao ud 
hb pupili in ihe cady p«rt ol tbe 14th onlury, Tbete in imall 
relict, iUuxntive «( Ui« (Nd ud New Tsumeou. of gncelul 
doiin u>d (JuUul neculion. A fniwih of bruiching ttHiMfe 
lena to unite utd [nme Ihe lien of nibjecu. 

Of * widely diSeieoi dan, bul of couidenble impoiUnceia 
Ibe history o>( muni decoruion, ue ibe beautiful nUefi. Kulp- 
luicd in >tone and marble, witb which Mgtlem buildinti in 
many parti of Ibe worid an ornamented. ThtM ue mostly 
Inmetrkal pattemi of great intricacy, wblcb cover Urge 
soifacet. Irequently broken up Into panelt by bandi of more 
Bowing omanKDt or Arabic iiucriptions. The moiques of 
Cairo, India and Persia, and the domestic Moslem buildings of 
Spain are eitremcly rich in ibii tneihod of decoration. Id 
*Fslem Eun>pe. especially during (be 15th century, stone 
panelled .work with rich tracery formed a large part of the scheme 
d decoration in all the more splendid building Akin to this, 
though without actual relief, is the itone tnccry — inlaid flush 
rough flint walls — which was a mode of onumeot brgcly 



d for > 



ig the ej 
Ik and Suffolk, It is aloxst peculiar to that di 



of tl 



skill and U 



10 the BUteiiali 



buQdcn adapud Ibcit mclliad ol 
in hand. 

I. UbtUi fneer. — Asotbet widely used method of mural 
decoration baa been tbe application of thin naarble linings to 
wall^uifacH, tbe decontfve effect being produced by the natural 
beauty of the marble Itself and not by sculptured reliefs. One of 
the iridesl buUdings in tbe world, the so-olled " Temple of the 
Sphinx " smong the Ciza pynmids, is built of grul blocks of 
graiute, tbe inside of the moms being lined with slabs of semi- 
tnrispaRnt African alahuter about j in, thick. In the »t cen- 
tury thin vmon of richly colound marble* were largely used 
by the Kominito dccatite brick and stone wtlk. Pliny (H.fl. 
inn 6) speaks of this practice as being a new and degenente 
invention in his time. &tany aamplu eiiu at Pompeii aiul in 
other Roman buildings. .Numerous Byiantlne churches, such 
as St Saviour's at Constantinople, and St George's, Thessalonica, 
have tbe lower part of the internal walls richly ornamented in 
tbis way. It was commonly used to form a dado, tbe upper part 
of the building being covered with mosaic The cathedra] of 
Monreale and other Siculo-Nonnan buildinp owe * great deal 
of their tplendout to these linings of richly variegated marbles. 
Id most caies tbe main turface it of light-coloured marble or 
alabaster, inlaid bands of darker tint or rolonred mosaic betng 
used to divide the surface Into panels. The peculiar Italian- 
Colbic of nonbem and central Italy during the 14th and I5lh 
cvuturies, and at Venice some centuries earlier, relied greatly 

and tbe cathedral of Florence are magniScent eiamples of this 
work used eitemally. Both inside and out most of the richest 
examples of Moslem ircbitecture owe much to tbis method ol 
decontion; tbe mo*qae> and palaco of India and Persia are in 
many easel compleliely lilted witb the most brilliant sorts of 
marble of csntrastiog linta. 

J. WaO-Limatt af Oase* Btidit tr TilM.— This is a very 
important daa of decoration, and from its almost Imperishable 



capable of producing a splendour of < 



r, and its brilliaD 






d"by gl ' 



iricks modelled 
iptioni, and then coated 
brillianl coknir in siliceous enamel— it was largely used 
by the andent Egyptians and Assyrians as well M by the later 
Suaniansof Persia. In the iitb and nth centuiiea the Moslems 
of Petsia broui^I this art to great perfection, and used It on a 
luge scale, chiefly, though not invariably, for Internal walls, 
Tbe main nrfaces wen covered by thick earthenware tiles, 
overlaid with a white enamet. Tboe were do) rectangular, but 
oi various shapo, moMly lonie form of a star, amnged so as tf 
tl cknely tocElha. DcLcMe and nlaute patterns were then 



painted on tbe tiles, after Ihe first firfng. In t cf>pper-tlke ccJouf 
with strong metaUic lustre, produced by the deoudiiaEioa of 
a metallic salt in the process of the second firing. Bands and 
frieies with Arabic inscriptions, modelled boldly in high relief, 
wen used to bresk up (he monotony of the surface. In that, 
aa a rule, tbe pro5ecting letten were painted blue, and tbe flat 
ground enriched with very minute patterns in the lustre-colour, 
litis combination ol bold nlief arid delicate painting produces 
great vigour and richness of efl^ect, equally telling whether viewed 
in the mass ot closely examined tile by tile. In the rgth century 
iustn-cobun, tbout^ still largely empbyed lor plates, vase* sod 
other vokIs, opedally in Spain, wen little used for tHes; and 
another class of ware, rich in the variety and brilliance of iti 
cdIouii, wu crtentivdy used by Moslem builden all over ths 
Mahommedan world, Tbe meat sumptuous sorts ol tiles used 
for wail-coveringl an those of the so-called " Rhodian " and 
Damssceoe wans, the work of Persian potters at many places. 
Those made at Rhodes are coarsely executed in comparison witb 
the produce of the older potteries at Isfahin and Damascui 
(see Ceiaiqcs]. These are rectangular tiles of earthenwan, 
covered witb a white " slip," and painted in brilliant coloun with 
slight conventionalized representations of various flowers, 
especially tbe rose, the hyadntb and the canutioiL The red 
used is applied in considenble body, so as to stand out in slight 
relief. Another class of design is mon geometrical, forming 
regular npcatt; but tbe most beautiful composition* are those 
in which the natural growth of (rtc* and flowen is Imitated, tbe 
btanche* and blossoms spreading over a huge surface covered by 
hundreds of tiles without any repetition- One of the finest 
examples is the " Mccca^wnll " in the mosque of Ibrahim Agha, 




has Ihe design almost entirely executed in blue. It was about 
A.D, 1600, in the reign ol Shah Abbas I., that this class of ^tery 
was brought to greatest perfection, and it is in Persia that the 
most magnificent example* are found, dating from the nth to 
thc.i7ih centuries, The most remarkable examples lor beiuty 
and extent an the mosque at Tabrii, built by AH Khoja in the 
i3th century, the ruined tomb of Sulun Khodabend (a.d. ijoj- 
ijr6) at Sultaniyas, the palace of Shah Abba* I. and the lomb 
of Abbas II. (d. *,□. ifiM) at Isfahin, all of which buildings an 
covered almost entirely inside and out. 

Another impotUnt class of wall-(ilt* ate (hose manufactured 
by the Spanish Moot*, called " aiule}oa," especially during the 
14th century. TheK are in a very different style, being designed 



MURAL DECORATION 



outh 



Gihen 



if pcftonl tod ventral fini. The ilua ii 
m Euny ipedei omimented with vuied 
that thc» fiihu uc frcqurcLly mistaken 
I wide, the jam ilrong and aimed with 
irply [Hinted, leelh, which enable the 
« iu prey (which chiefly coniiita of 
inflict tecioiu, uid nmclimn dangei- 
Ics. It atladi* penoni Hbo tppcaach 
t In ahallow W4ter, and is feared by 



ie of the tropical IfxntnMi eiceed » tenglb of is ft., hut 
most of the species, among them the Mediisrraneao ipedes. 
attain to only half that length. The laiiet, the " morena " ol 
Ibe Italians and the Uuracna Idcnn of ichthyologisli, wai 
considered by the ancient Romans lo be one of the grealeit 
ddicacia, and pma kept in targe ponds and aquaria- It is not 
confined to the coasts oT sauthcrn Europe, but is iptcad over (he 
Indian Ocean, and is not uncommon on the coasts ol Autlralla. 
It! body is generally ul a rich brown, marked with laige yellowish 
spots, each of which contains smaller brown spots. 

MORAL DECORATION, a general term for Ibc art of onuncnt- 
log will suifaces. There is scarcely one of the numerous 
branches of de<«nttve ait which has not at some time or other 
been applied to this purpose.' For what may be oiled Ibe 
practical or furnishing point of view, se« Waix-cavERiHCi. 
Here (he aubject is treated rather as pan of the history of an. 

I. Filit/i laUflnred in Uarbte or SUme.—Ttia is the oldest 
method of wall-decoration, of which numerous examples eiist. 
The tombs and temples of Egypt are rich in this kind of muial 

These sculptures an 



is. them 






the figures do not eiiend beyond Ihe Eat surface of the groui 
Some unfinished relief! discovered in the rock^ut tombs 01 
Thebes show the manner in which the sculptor set to work. 
The plain surface of the stone was marked out by red lines into a 
numbK* of squares of equal size. The use of this tiii probably 
twofold: first, as a guide in cnbrging the design from a small 
drawing, a method still commonly practised; second, to help the 
artist to draw his figures with just proportions, following the 
strict canons which were laid down by the Egypliana. No 

study of the life-model wu permitted.' When the surface had 
been covered with these squares, (he artist drew wi[h a brush 
dipped in red the outlines of his relief, azid then cut round them 
with his chisel. 

When the relief was finished. It was, as a rule, entirely painted 
over with much minuteness and great variety of colours. More 
rarely the ground was left (he natural tin! of (be stone or marble, 
and only (he figures and hieroglyphs painted. Id the case ot 
sculpture in hard basalt or granite the painting appears often 
to have been omitted altogether. The absence of perspective 
effects and the severe self-restraint of the sculptors in the matter 

decoration. Thai th( 



nt of skiU 



observj 



of birds and animalsi the special charade 
and spedes were unerringly caught by I 

suggesting those peculiarities ot form, p 

which ate the " differentia " of each, ol 

rtcilyoBthepo 



their 



ire on the part 

1 each creatuR 
ient Egyptian, 
lymbolie way, 

IS bearing less 



The subjecu of these mural sculptures are endless; alt 
every possible Incident in man's life here or beyond the g 
is reproduced with the closest detail. Tbc tomb of HI 
Sakkanh (about 4jao Ji.c.) has some of tbc finest and ear 
specimens of these mural sculptules, especially rich in illu^ 

' SeealwCaaABics : Mosaic : PaitiiiMC ;SciJi.mia!;T*pes' 
pi.ls;alioEaTrr;.4Fliiidi<rcta«^ry;CacBiI Aei;RoHAHj 






s before 



tbosof the domestic life and occupations of the Egyptians. 
The latter tombs, as a rule, have sculptures depicting the religious 
ritual and belief of the people, and the temples combine Ib.ie 
hieratic subjects with the history ol the teigns and victoriei of 
the Egyptian kings. 

culpturea from the royal palaces of 

nest of which arc shown by inscrip- 

Lt ol Sardana. 



170510 



.c). These are carved in 
I of di " 



gvnenlly representing the king 
worsnipping one 01 tne numerous Assyrian gods, an mostly 
large, often colossal in scale. The other subjects, illustrating 
the life and asiusements ol the king, his prowess in war or 
hunting, or long proceakns of prisoneis and (ribute-bearers 
coming lo do him bomigt, an getHnlly smaller and in »me case* 
arrangement of these reliefs 




lical skill 

hown in all these sculptures by (he way in which the sculptors 
lave obtained the utmost amount ot effect with the smallesl 
lossible amount ot relief, in this respect calling strongly to mind 
, similar peculiarity in the work of (he Florentine Donatello. 

The palace at Mashila on the bajj road in Moab. built by the 
iasanian Cbosroes II. (a.d. 614-617), is ornamented on the 
:itepoi with beautiful surface sculpture in stone. The deugnj 
~ of peculiar interest as forming a link between Assyrian and 






1 Moslem 



lected w 
Idingi of camparatively modem 



Especially in Italy dur 

 Among Ibe Maihha eirvings occur 

hitthe other common variety of this b.__ 

the beasts. TheK deiiins, occaiionally varied by fieuns o( human 
worshippcfi inuead of tTie bcaui. igrvived long alter Ihrir meaning 

appear en carpets and other leitilcs ol Oriental m 






lie prevnt day they frequently 



MURAL DECORATION 



. Thetc in uull 



«f muUt In low rtUet m* rnqnentljF tad 

The tnnal iwlibic eunpk u tbc beautiful x 

mt front of Orvielo CiUmlnl, Ihc voik oi ( 

hts pupih la tbc rariy part of Itw 14II1 

icliefi. iUuMiaiivi of the CW ud Nci . _ 

dctign ud >kilful cucutioo. A fiowifa of branchini (olU(e 

KTvcs to unile lod (rune Uk tier* of lubJKU. 

Of I widdy diEfrent diM, but of coniidcnble importiDCc in 
the hiUoty B( nunt decomiaD. uc the beautiful nlidt, Kulp- 
tund in Mooe and nurtile, irith which Mgalcm buildinei in 
many parti of the world aie ornamented. Thcae are moitly 
(Hinwtrical pattern] of fieat intricacy, which cover U>Ee 
turfaca, Irtquenily broken up into paneli by bands ol more 
Sgwini omanent or Arabic inicriplions. The motquet of 
Cairo, India and Pcnia. and the donmlic Modem buildingi of 
Spain are euremely rich in ihii method of decoration. In 
vrUem Europe, especially during the 15th century, atone 
panelled- work with ricb tracery formed a larffe part of the scheme 
of decoration in all the more splendid buildings. Akin to this, 
(hough without actual relief, is the stone tracery — inlaid flush 
into roujEh flint walls — which was a mode of omament largely 
used for enriching the exteiion of churches in the couotica of 
Norfolk and Suflolk. It is altnost peculiar to that district, and 
is an esamptc of the skill and laste with which the medieval 

in hand. 

1. UbtUi Vnutr. — Another widely vsed mclbod of muisl 
dccocaiioB has been the appiiottion of thin marble linings to 
waJl4uifaccs, the decorative effect being produced by the natural 
beauty of the marble itself and not by sculptured reliefs. One of 
the (ddesl buildings in the world, the u-called " Temple of the 
Sphina " among the Ciza pyramids, is built of great blocks of 
granite, the inside of the rooms bcmg lined with slabs of seml- 
tran^urent African alabaster about i in. thick. In Ihe iK cen- 
tury this veoeen d( richly coloured marblit wen largely used 
by the Romuu to decorate brick and atone walls. Pliny (fT.iV. 
luvL 6) speaks of this practice as being a new and degenerate 
invention in bis lime, ^Uoy eaamplet eiist at Pompeii and in 
olber Roman buildings. .Numerous Byaantlne churches, such 
as Si Saviour^sat Coiutantiruple, aiul 5t George's, Thessalonica, 
have (he lower part of the internal walls richly ornamented in 
this way. It was commonly used to form a dado, the upper port 
of tiK building being covered with mossic The cathedral of 
Uonreale and other Sicuk>-NarTnan buildinp owe a great deal 
of (heir splewtour to these linings ol richly variegated marblcs- 
In most cases the main surface b of tight-coloured marble or 
alabaster, inlaid bands of darkef tint or coloured mosaic being 
used to divide the surface into panels. The peculiar Italian- 
Colbic of northern and central Italy during (he 14th and istb 

foritt effects on this treatment of marble. St Mark's at Venice 
and the cathedral of Florence ire magnificent eumples of this 
wDik used eitemally. Both inside and out most of (he richest 
eiamples of Moslem irctiitecture owe much to this metliod of 
decDraiion; the moaque* and palaces of India and Persia ate in 
many cases cmnpletely lined with the tnoit brilliant sorts ol 
maible of contiutiof tints. 

J. WtO-Ummti ^ Glatd Bricb tr TSa.—'XVa ts  very 
imponanl daa of decmllon, and from its almost imperishable 
nature, its ticbacM of aUtm, and III brilliance of surface is 
capable of produdng a vkodovr of effect only rivalled by glau 
nusiici. Id the lea* important form— that of bricks modelled 
or stamped in relief with figures and inscriptions, and then coaled 
■ith a bciHiant colour in liliciaus enamel— it wu latgely used 
by the ancient Egyptians and Assyrians as well as by the later 
Si mni.M of Persia. In the nth and iithcenturio the Moslems 
ol Persia bmudit this art to great perfection, uid used it on a 
lull scale, chiefly, though not loviriably, (or iatemal walls. 
The main surfaces were covettd by thick earthenware tiles, 
overlaid with a white enomeL Thoe were not rectangular, but 
of variow shapes, mostly tame form of a star, arranged lo as t^ 
b dosdy tocMlvr- Ddicate u>d minuu pattema were then 



painted on the tiles, after the first firing, in 1 
with ttn>iig metallic lustre, produced by the deoiidixation of 
* metallic salt in the process ol the second firing. Bands and 
tiieita with Arabic inscription*, modelled bohlly in high relief, 
were used to break up the monotony ol the luriace. In these. 
u a rule, the pnjecling letters were painted blue, and the fiat 
ground enriched with very minute patterns In the lusttKslour. 
This combiiiatioD of bold relief and delicate painting produces 
great vigour and richness ol effect, equally telling wbeiher viewed 
in the man or dutely eiamined lite by tUe. In (he i jth centuiy 
luB(re-c(4our*, tbouj^ still largely employed for plates, vases and 
other vosels, especially to Sfiaia, were little used [or tiles; and 
another diu of nre, rich in the variety iiid biilliance ol its 
cntoun, was eilenitvely used by Moslem builder* all over Ihe 
Mahommedan world. The mott sumptuou* loiti of tiles used 
for snitl-caveringi ue those of (he u-oJled " Rbodiui " and 
Damascene waiet, the work ol Persian potter* (t many place*. 
Those made at lUiodet are coarsely executed in comparison srith 
the produce of the older potteries at ItfahAn and Damascul 
(see CEaAiaca]. These are rectangular tiles of earthenware, 
covered with i white " slip," and painted in brilliant colours with 
slight conventionalized representations of various flowers. 
capecLslly the rose, the hyacinth and the camatioo. The red 
used is applied in considerable body, so as to stand out in slight 
relief. Another dssa of design I* more geometrical, forming 
regular repeats; but the moM beauliful composition* are those 
in which the natural growth of trees and flowers is imitated, the 
s spreading over a ' ' ' ' 




r deugn almost enl 
t.D, i£oo, in the reign of Shah Abbas I., that this dau ol ^Itery 
was brought (o greatest perfection, and it f* in Persia (hat (ho 
most magnificent examples are found, dating from (he 1 2lh to 

and eitent are the mosque at Tahiti, built by All Khoja in the 
nth centuiy, the ruined tomb of Sultan Khodabend (t.D. ijoj- 
1316) at Sultaniya), the palace of Shah Abbas I. and the tomb 
Df Abbas II. (d. A.B. [M6) at Iifahln, lU ol which buildings aia 
covered almost entirely inside and out. 

Another important class of wsll-tiles sre those manufactured 
by the Spanish Moon, called " aiulejos," especially during Ibl 
14th century. These are In a very difiercot style, being designed 



MURAL DECORATION 



W tuggtst ot imiiuc meaic Tbty hive intiiute intn 
being gnnuicicol pat(eni> matkcd out by Unci in sligb 
relief 1 brilliani enantd c<doui9 wtie iben bmned inia the til< 
ihe piojccttng lints fonniog baundario lor the pigments, j 
rich efiect 'a produced by this combinUioD of telief ud coloui 
Tfaey ue mainJy used for dadoes about 4 ft. high, often >ui 
mounted by a baad of tiles with painted ioscriptiorLS. The 
Alhambn uid Generalife Palaces at Gnnada, begun in the 
tjth antury, but mainly built and deconled by YOsuf I. and 
Mahonuned V. <a.d. 1333-1391), uld the AlcsLor at Seville have 
the moat beiuiiful eiamplci of thoe " aiulejos." The latter 
building chiefly ones in dfcotatioiu 10 Pedro the Cruel (ji.i>. 
13^)1 who employed Moorish workmen for its tile-coverings 
and other omamenta. Many other buildings [n sauthem Spain 
aze enriched in the same way, some as late as the 16th ccDluiy. 
Almost peculiar to Spain are a variety of wall-tOe ' ' ' ' 



ijth o 



These 



though rather coancly painted, and hive a rich yellow as the 
piedominint colour. ITie Cast de PiUloi and Ittbcl't Chapel 
in the Alcaiar PalAce, both at Seville, have the best qtedmens 
of these, dating (bout the year 1500. In other Western countries 
tiles have been used more for pavements than for wall-decoration. 
4. WaU^mtrinf,! d/ Hard Slucto. fTaptaSy aakhed wlk 
Rdicfi.—The Greeks and Romans possessed the secret of making 
s iuid kind of stucco, creamy ia colour, and capable oE receiving 
a polish like that of marble; it would stand eiqiosure to the 
wcatho. Those of the early Greek temples which were built, 
not of marble, but of stone, such as the Doric temi^es at Aegina, 
Phigaleia, Paestum and Agrigenl 






.n admirable suriace tor the 



(uclher polychromat 
teem 10 hive been ornamented. Another highly »iii«ic use 
of stucco among the Greeks and Romans^ for the interiors of 
buildings, consisted in covt^ng the walls and vaults with a 
smooth coat, on which while still wet the outlines of figures, 




grovpi and other 01 

delicate reUef before it had 
Craecia of the 4th century 



modds of grace and el^ance and remark 
way m which a few rapid touches of the m 
have produced a work of the h: ' 
Roman qxcimens of this sort ol 




Stucco W U R ef I 



1 h Alhanbn 



These tre mos y eiecu ed with grea kdl and q enlly 
w lb good taste, hough in some cases especial! at P oiped 
etaboia arch ec ril composi ons wi h wkwird mpU at 
eSecti of violent perspective, modelled in slight relief on flat 
wall lurlaces produu aa unpleasiiig effect. Other Fompeiaii 
examples where the surface is divided into Sst panels, each 
coQtaming a figure or group, have great merit lor Iheit delicate 
richness wiibout oEendmg against thecAnonsof wall-decoration, 
one of the first conditions of which is that no attempt should be 
made to disguoe the fact of its being a solid wall and a flat 

The Modnn architects ol Ihe tuiddle ages made great use ol 
stucco omameot both [or eitemal and intctnal walls. The 
stucco is modelled in high or low relief in great variety of geo- 
metrical patterns, alternating with bands of mote Sowing 
ornament or long Arabic inscriptions. Many of their buildings, 
such as Ihe mosque ol TulUn at Cairo {kJ>. Sjg), owe nearly all 
" ' work, (he purely archilcctuial 



if the sti 



ig often 






. further decorated with 
delicate painting in gold and coloura. The Moorish tower at 
Segovia b Spain is a good eiample ol this doss of ornament used 
ettemally. With the eiception ol a few banda ol brick and the 
stone quoins at the angles, the whole eiterior of the tows ia 
covered with a network of stucco reliefs in simple geometricnl 
patterns. The Alhambia at Granada and the Alcaiat at Seville 
have the richest examples of this work. The lower part ol the 
walls is lined with marble or tiles 10 1 height of about 4 ft. and 
above that in many cases the whole lutface ia eocniitcd with 
these rdieis, the varied surface ol which, by produdng endless 
gradiiions ol shadow, takes away any possible harshness from 
the brilliance of the gold and colours [Hg. 4!. 



! i6lh ce 



: skill ai 



arlier 



m Italy, 



MURAL DECORATION 



*..».[X. an tfae nSeb *ilh wbich Vuari in the i6tb ontuiy 
tncnnted pilJan ud other parti o( the court ia the FknuitiDe 
FiluiD Vccdiio, built of pluo itoae by Uichdouo la 1454. 
SoDK arc tl AoKing vioct and oilier pUalt winding qritilly 
miDd tbe tolnniB*. The English euunpln of lUt work ue 
dkciively ■<*«'t"^i tbaaili couht in eiecutioD. Tlie ouuide 
of k haU-tiinbcred boote ia the nuriui-plice ai Newuli-upon- 
Tttnt hu Uch Tdieh io Hucto at cuopied GgurH, daliog jiom 
Ibecndof the istbcaluiy. The couniia of Ews &Dd SuHolk 
an ikh in oooipla of thii irott used eitoaiJlyi and nun)' 
i6tb-<silnry bouHj in Eoflind have fine ininnal ituno 
dcranlian. epecially Hudvicke Hal] (Dnbyihiie] , ou of the 
roovna of vhich hai die upper part of the wall enriched with 
life-ued (tutco figures in high idiet, forming  deep liieie all 

S- Spafiu. — Thb b a variety of itocco work lued chiefly In 
It^ faom (be iMh century downward*, and employed only lor 
ciiaian of buildings, npedtUy tbe palaco of Tiucany and 
mnlieni Italy. The anil it covered witb a coat of itncco nude 
Ua^ by an admiitore of charcoal; over this a aecond thin out 
of white auas i* laid. When il i> all hard the design ii produced 
by caitiDg and icratcliing away ihe*hite skin, aoas to show the 
Uack uuleT-coat. Tbu< the drawing appears in black on a white 
gnniid. Tbo work is effective al a dijiance, as it requira a 
bold it^ of baodling, in which the shadows are indicated hy 

' ir together.' Flowing aia- 

most frequently in 
II years the sgraffito method has been revived; 
and the result of Mr Moody's eiperimenti may be seen on the 
cast wall at tbe Royal College of Science in Eihiluiion Road, 

6. Slamfti LtaOur. — Tbii wis a magnificent and npenuve 
bnn of waU-haaging. chiefly used during the 16th and ijih 
CDturia. Skins, generally of goals 01 calves, were well tanned 
and cut inio rettangulai ihapes. They were then covered with 




Fid. 5.— Italian Stamped Leather: Ifith cenluiy, 
sber leaf, which was varnished with a irauspaicnl yellow lacquer 
makmf the iQver look like gold, llie iklni were then stamped 
or emboascd witb patterns in rdief, formed by heavy prrvure 
fnm nvtal di^ one in relief and the other sunk. Tbe reliefs 
were then painted by hand in many cokiun, generally brilliant 
 A toad dncHptloa of the procos b given by Vaiari, Trt trti ill 



in tone: Italy and Spain (cqxdally (Tankiva) woi Important 
■eats 'of thb manufacture; and in the 17th century a large 
quantity was produced b France. Fig. 5 gives a good eiample 
of Ilaliaa itamped leather of tbe i6th century. In England. 
chieBy at Norwich, thb manuiaclun wai carried on in the 
i7lh and iSib centuries. In durability and richness of effect 
stamped leaiha nirpasica most other fonna of movable wall- 



7. PaiiUJ CMM. — Another form of wall-hanging, used raoM 
largely during the 15th and ■6th centuries, and in a less extensive 
way a good deal earlier, u canvas painied to Imitate tapestry. 
Enj^ish medieval inventories both ol ecclesiastical and domestic 
good* frequently contain items such as these: " staysed ciolh* 
for hangings," " paynted cloths with stcmes and balailes," or 
" paynted dolhs of beyond tea work," or " o[ Flaondet's •rwk." 
Many good artists working at Ghent and Bruges during the fint 
hall of the ijth century produced fine work ol this class, as well 
as design! for real tapestry. Several of the great Italian artiilt 
devoted their skill in composition and invention 10 the painting 
of these wall-hangings. The most important eiisting enample 
b tbe series of paintings of the triumph of Julius Caesar eiecuted 
by Andrea Mantegna (1485-1493) for Ludovico Goniaga, duke 
oi Msnlua, and now at Hampton Court. These are usually, 
but wrongly, called " cirtoont," as if they were designs meant 
to be esecutcd in tapestry; tbb is not tbe case, as (he paintings 
themselves were used as wali-hanpnp. They are nine in number 



by a pilaster. They fo 
sized figures, rcmarkabl 
delicate colouring — tbe L 



tquan 



jrsssepi 



aled f r 



1, witb life- 
nr composition, drawing and 
Trtunatcly much disguised by 
these painted wall-hangingB, 
Liber thinly painted, so 
Ibrough the cloth falling 
' remaraaole series of painted doth 
IS Cathedral. In some cases dyes 



they are executed in tempera, a. 

that the pigment might not crach 

slightly into folds. Another remi 

hangings are those al 

were used for this work. A' M 

receipts for " painted cloth," shoi 

dyed in a manner similsr to th 

atlerwards printed, and art r 

receipts are for real dyes, not for pigments, ana among tnem 

b the earliest known description of the process called "setting" 

the woad or indigo vat, as well as s receipt for removing or 

" diacbaiging " the colour from a doih slieady dyed. Another 

method employed was a son of " encaustic " process; the doib 

was rubbed aU over with wai, and then painted in tempera; 

heat was then ai^lied so that the colours sank into the melting 

*ai, and were thus firmly filed upon the cloth. 

S. PritiUd Hsntiaii end Wali-Papcri.— Tbe printing of 
various textiles with dye-colours and mordants is probably one 
of the most andeni arta. Pliny (H. H. mv.) describes a 
dyeing process employed by the tndent Egyptians, In which 
ihc patten was probably fotmed by printing Snm blocks. 
Various methods have been used for this woik— wMd blocks in 
relief, engraved metal plates, stendl plates and even band- 
painting; frequently two or mote of these methods have 
been empbyed for the same pattern. Tbe use of printed stuffs 
is o( great antiquity among the Hindus snd Chinese, and 
was certainly practised in western Europe in the 13th century, 
and perhaps earlier. The Victoria and Albert Museum has 
13th-century specimens of hloch-printed silk made in Sicily, ot 
beautiful dedgn. Towards the end of the 14th century a 
great deal of block-printed linen was made in Flanders, and 
largely imported into Eogland. 

Wiil-papen did not come into common use In Europe till the 
iStb century, though they appear to have been used much 
earlier by the Chinese. A few rare examples cxilt in England 
which may be as early as the i6Lh century; these ate Imitations, 
generally in flock, of the fine old Florentine and Genoese cut 
velvets, and hence tbe style of the dnign in no way shows the 
date of tbe wall-paper, the same traditional patterns being 
reproduced (ot many years with little or no change. Machinery 
enabling paper to be made ia long strips was not invented tilt 



MURAL DECORATION 



the end of the iSth ceninry,' tnd n 
were printed on imkll iqiuie pi«cp4 a 
Id bug, diifi^red by numerout 
costly; on thoe ufounta wall-p^pei 



tt time wiD-pipen 
□tde paper, difficult 
■nd compiiaiively 
iIdv ia luptriEding 

D[ Biluna, prinl«d in London in 1744, ttiTDm ume %ht Dn 
the use of wall-pipen it Ihit lime. He pva ledund copiei 
of hii deugn^, mostly tiken from Itiliui picturei or ^tique 
BcuJpturc during his resideon in Venice, Inatevi of flQwii:Lg 
pattenu covering the wall, hia deaigiu are all pcturei — Und- 
tcapea, architeelund scenes or Atatues — tceated ai panels^ ^th 
plain paper or painting between. They are all printed in oil, 
with wooden blocks worked with a rolling press, apparently an 
invention of his own. They are all in the worst pouible la«e, 
and yet tie offered as great improvement! on the Chinese papcn 
^""' ' ' tubiOD. Fig. 6 b a food Enilub 




Flo. &— Early lUb-century Wall-Paper, (u 
enoplc of ISth-ocBtuiy nll^pei printed on squares of stout 
hutd-iude piper at fn. wide. The design ii apparently copied 

In the iQth ceotuiy Id EngUod, > great advaitce In the 
dcsigidog of wall-papcn »u made by William Monii and his 

g. Paiiaim. — This El nitunlty the unit Important and tlie 
most widely used ol tU foims of wall-decontion, 11 well as 

Egypt (see Ecvpi: Art and Ankemhat) is the chief itOR- 
bouse of indent specimens of this, is ol almost all the arts. 

Owing to the intimate connenon between the 
n^^^ Kutptuie and painting of early limes, the rematlu 

above as to subjecta and treatment under the head 
of Egyptian wall-sculpture will to a great ulent apply also to 
the paintings. It Is an important fact, which teslihei to the 
antiquity of Egyptian dviliaation, that the earliest paintings, 
dating more than 4000 yean before our era, are also the cleverest 
both in drawing and uecution. In later times the injuence of 
Egyptian art, especially in painting, was important even among 



distant nalioni. In the Hit century i.e. Egyptian coloidUi, 
introduced by Cambyses into Persepolis. influenced the piinliig 
and sculpture of the great Persian Empire and throughouL Lhe 
valley of the Euphrates. In a lesser degree the itt ol fiabyloD 
Ind Nineveh had [ell considerable Egyptian influence sevcial 
centuiiei earlier. The same influence aSecicd Ibe early art ol 
tbe Creeks and the Etrurians, and it was not till the middle al 
the sth century B.C. that the further development ind perieclmj 
of art in Greece obliterated the old traces of Egypiiinminneriun. 
After the death of Alcunder the Great, when Egypt came into 
tbe possession of the Ligidae (jio B.C.), the tide of Inaucnu 
Sowed the other way, and Creek art modified ihougb It did not 
seriously alter the characteristics of Egyptian painting and 
sculpture, which retained much of their early formalism and 
leverily. Yet the increased sense af beauty, especially in Ihe 
human face, derived from the Greeks nil counteitaliiKed by 
loss of vigour; art under the Ptolemio became a dull oopjiuu 

The general scheme of mural painting in the buildinp of 
indent Egypt was complete and magnificent. ColuEnns, 
mouldings and other architectural features were enriched with 
patterns in brilliant colours; the flat wall-spaces were covered 
with figure-subjects, generally In horizontal bands, and tbe 
ceilings were ornamented with sacred symbols, such u the vulture 
or painted blue and studded with gold stars to aymboliie the 
sky. The wall-paint ingt in eiecuted in tempera on 1 thin ikin 




and slightly ahiotbenl coat to reeeiv 

' ' rillianlin toneandof great vaneiy 01 rini. not empwyirig 

the Egyptian artists wen not restricted to *' earth colours," 

xasionaliy used purples, pinki and greens which would 

have been destroyed by fresh lime. The blue used ia very 

beautiful, and is generally laid on in considerable body — it is 

frequently a " smalt " or deep-blue glaas, calovied by copper 

" finely powdered. Red and yellow ochre, carbon -black, 

Dwdered dialk-white are most largely used. Though Id 

Ihe paintings ol animals and birds considerable realism is often 

(Eg. 7), yet for human figures certain conveniioDal coloun 

nnployed, e.[. while for females' flesh, red for the males, or 

black to indicate people of negro race. Heads ire painted in 

pToflie, and little or no shading is used. Cdnsldcrablc knowledge 

1I birmony is shown in the amngement of the coloun; and 

jtberwise birsh combinalinns of tints are softened and brought 

nlokeepingby thin separating lines of while or yellow. Though 

It Gnl sight tbe general calouting, if seen in a museum, may 

ippeat crude, yet it should be remembered Ihat the iniem^ 

paintings were much softened by the dim light in Egyptiao 

' ildinp, and tbose outside were subdued by contrast with tbe 

lliant sunshine under which they were always seen. 

The rock-cut sepulchres of the Etrurians nipjily the only 

sling specimens of their mural paintlofi and, tmlike tbe 

nbs of Egypt, only a small ptopgttion appear to 

ve been decorated in this way. The actual data rSMfimM 

of these paintings are very uncertain, but they range 

possibly from about the Sth century B.C. down to atmoit the 

Chrinian era. llw tombs which poneu thcN paintinp are 



MURAL DECORATION 



21 



mostly square-shaped rooms, with slightly-arched or gabled roofs, 
excavated in soft sandstone or tufa hillsides. Th^ earlier ones 
show Egyptian influence in drawing and in composition: they 
arelxviadly designed with flat unshaded tints, ^e laces in profile, 
except the eyes^ n^iich are drawn as il seen in front. Colours, as 
in Egy^, are used conventionally — male flesh red, white or 
pale yellow for the females, black for demons. In one respect 
these paintings differ from those of the Egyptians; few colours 
are Tised — ^red, brown, and yellow ochres, carbon-black, lime or 
dailk-white, and occasionally blue are the only pigments. The 
lock-walls are prepared by being covered with a thin skin of 
lime stucco, and lime or chalk is mixed in small quantities with 
all the coioun; hence the restriction to " earth pigments," made 
necessary by the dampness of these subtoranean chambers. 
Hie ptooeas employed was in fact a kind of fresco, though jthe 
stucco ground was not applied in small patches only sufficient 
for the day's work; the dampness of the rock was enough to 
keep the stucco skin moist, and so allow the necessary infiltration 
o£ odbur from the surface. Many of these paintings when first 
discovered were fresh in tint and uninjured by time, but they are 
soon dulled by exposure to light. In the course of centuries 
great changes of style naturally took place; the eariy Egyptian 
inftwt^wtr^^ probably brought to Etruiia through the Phoenician 
traders, was succeeded by an even more strongly-marked Greek 
influence — at first archaic and stiff, then developing into great 
beauty of drawing, and finally yielding to the Roman spirit, as 
the degradation of GreeJc art advanced under their powerful but 
nartistic Roman conquerors. 

Throughout this succession of styles— Egyptian, Greek and 
Graeco-RMnan — there runs a distinct undercurrent of individu- 
ality doe to the Etruscans theznselves. This appears not only 
in the drawing but also in the choice of subjects. In addition 
to pktores of banquets with musicians and dancers, hunting 
aad radng scenes, the workshops of different craftsmen and other 
dome s ti c subjects, all thoroughly Hellenic in sentiment, other 
ftwtiwgK occur which are very un-Greek in feeling. These 
repfcsent the judgment and punUhment of souls in a future life. 
M antns, Charun and other infernal deities of the Rasena, 
hideous in aspect and armed with hammers, or furies depicted 
as Uack-beaided demons winged and brandishing. live snakes, 
. terrify or torture shrinking human souls. Others, not the earUest 
in date, rep re sen t human sacrifices, such as those at the tomb of 
Patrodos — a dass of subjects which, though Homeric, appears 
rarely to have been selected by Greek painters. The constant 
import into Etruria of large quantities of fine Greek painted 
vaaes appears to have contributed to keep up the supremacy of 
Hfflmir influence during many centuries, and by their artistic 
superiority to have prevented the development of a more original 
and native school of art. Though we now know Etruscan 
paJBltng only from the tombs, yet Pliny mentions (H. AT. xxzv. 3) 
that fine wall-paintings existed in his time, with colours yet 
bah, on the walls of ruined temples at Ardea and Lanuvium, 
caeoited, be says, before the founding of Rome. As before men- 
tamed, the actual dates of the existing paintings are uncertain. 
It cannot therefore be asserted that any existing specimens are 
madi older than 600 B.C., though some, especially at Veii, 
certauE^y appear to have the characteristics of more remote 
aatiqaity. The most important of these paintings have been 
diitJwied in the cemeteries of Veii, Caere, Tarquinii, Vuld, 
Cervctri and other Etruscan dties. 
Even in Egypt the use of colour does not appear to have been 
uni v ersa l than it was among the Gredu (see Greek Ast), 
who applied it fredy to their marble statues and 
idiefi, the whole of their buildings inside and out, 
n wdl as for the decoration of flat wall-suriaces. 
lliey appeu to have cared little for pure form, and not to have 
vahxed the delicate ivory-like tint and beautiful texture of their 
fiaoe Pieatdic aad Parian marblfs, except as a ground for coloured 
A whole dass of artists, called AyoXik&ixm' lyinvtfrai, 
ed in oofouring marble sculpture, and their services 
highly valued.* In some cases, probably forthe sake of 
I TM. «.«,#i.. tircmmiitio, is mentkmed by Pliny (H. N. xxxv. 40). 



hiding the joints and getting a more absorbent surface, the 
marble, however pure and fine in texture, was covered with a 
thin skin of stucco made of mixed lime and powdered marble. 
An alabaster sarcophagus, found in a tomb near Cometo, and 
now in the Etruscan museum at Florence, is decorated outside 
with beautiful purely Greek paintings, executed on a stucco 
skin as hard and smooth as the alabaster. The pictures represent 
combats of t^e Greeks and Amazons. The colouring, though 
rather brilliant, is simply treated, and the figures are kept 
strictly to one plane without any attempt at complicated 
perspective. Other valuable spedmens of Greek art, found at 
Herctflaneum and now in the Naples MuseUm, are some small 
paintings, one of girls pbiying with dice, another of Theseus and 
the Minotaur.- These are painted with miniature-like delicacy on 
the bare surface of marble slabs; they are almost monochromatic, 
and are of the highest beauty both hi drawing and in gradations 
of shadow— quite unlike any of the Gr^k vase-paintings. The 
first-mentioned painting is signed AAEHANAP02 A6HNAI0Z. 
It is probable that the strictly archaic paintings of the Greeks, 
such as those of Polygnotus in the 5th century B.C., executed 
with few and simple colours, had much resemblance to those on 
vases, but Pliny is wrong when he asserts that, till the time of 
Apelles (c. 35o->3io BX.), the Greek painters only used black, 
white, red and 3^ow.* Judging from the peculiar way in which 
the Greeks and their imitators the Romans used the names of 
coburs, it appears that they paid more attention to tones and 
reiaticru of colour than to actual hues. Thus most Greek and 
Latin colour-names are now untranshitable. Homer's " wine- 
like sea " (o&o^), Sophodcs's " wine<oloured ivy " ((Ed. Col.), 
and Horace's " purpureus olor '* probably refer less to what we 
should call colour than to the chromatic strength of the various 
objects and their more or less strong powers of reflecting light, 
either m motion or when at rest. ' Nor have we any word like 
Virgil's " flavus," which could be applied both to a lady's hair 
and to the leaf of an olive-tree.' 

During the best periods of Greek art the favourite classes of 
subjects were scenes from poetry, especially Homer and con- 
temporary history. The names TUfoiooB^ai and arodi voud^ 
were iiven to' many public buildings from their walls being 
covered with paintings. Additional interest was given to the 
historical subjects by the introduction of portraits; e^g. in the 
great picture of the battle of Marathon (490 b.c.), on the walls of 
the 0roA roidhi in Athens, portraits were given of the Greek 
generals Miltiades, Callimachus, and others. This picture was 
painted about forty srears after the battle by Polygnotus and 
Micon. One of the earliest pictures recorded by Pliny (xxxv. 8) 
represented a battle of the Magnesians (c. 7x6 B.a); it was 
painted by Bularchus, a Lydian artist, and bou^t at a high 
price by King Candaules. Many other important Greek 
historical paintings are mentioned by Pausanias and earlier 
writers. The Pompeian mosaic of the defeat of the Persians by 
Alexander a probably a Romanised copy from some cdebrated 
Greek painting; it obviously was not designed for mosaic 
work. 

Landsca p e painting appears to hav6 been unknown among the 
Greeks, even as a background to figure-subjects. The poems 
especially of Homer and Sophodes show that this was not through 
want of appreciation of the beauties of nature, but partly, 
probably, because the main object of Greek painting was to tell 
some definite story, and also from their just sense of artistic 
fitness, which prevented them from attempting in their mural 
decorations to disguise the flat solidity of the ynJh by ddusive 
effects of aerial perspective and distance. 

It is interesting to note that even in the time of Alexander 
the Great the somewhat archaic works of the earlier painters 
were still appreciated. In particular Aristotle praises Polygnotus, - 

* Pliny's remarks on subjects such as thu should be received with- 
caution. He was neither a scientific archaeologist nor a practical 
artist. 

* So also a meaning unlike ours is attached to Greek technical 
words — by Hfoa they meant, not ** tone,*' but the gradationt of: 
It^ht and shade, and by tofuyi the relations of colour. See Pliny^ 
H. N. xxxv. 5; and Ruakin, Mod. Painlers, pt. iv. cap. 13. 



22 



MURAL DECORATION 



both for bis power of combining truth with idealisation 
in his portraits and for his skill in depicting men's mental 
characteristics; on this account be calb him 6 ifiorfpk^. 
Lucian too praises Polygnotus alike for his grace, drawing and 
colouring. Later painters, such as Zeuxis and Apelles, appear 
to have produced easel pictures more than mural paintings, 
and these, being easy to move, were mostly carried off to Rome 
by the early emperors. Hence Pausanias, who visited Greece 
in the time of Hadrian, mentions but few works of the later 
artists. Owing to the lack of existing specimens of Greek 
painting it would be idle to attempt an account of their technical 
methods, but no doubt those employed by the Romans described 
below were derived with the. rest of their art from the Greeks. 
Speaking of their stucco, Pliny refers its superiority over that 
made by the Romans to the fact that it was always made of 
lime at least three years old, and that it was well mixed and 
pounded in a mortar before being laid on the wall; he is here 
speaking of the thick stucco in many coats, not of the thin skin 
mentioned above as being laid on marble. Greek mural painting, 
like their sculpture, was chiefly used to decorate temples and 
public buildings, and comparatively rarely either for tombs* or 
private buildings — at least in the days of their early republican 
simplicity. 

A large number of Roman mural paintings (see also Roman 
Art) now exist, of which many were discovered*in the private 
^^ houses and baths of Pompeii, nearly all dating 

Pm^^. t>ctween a.d. 63, when the city was ruined by an 
earthquake, and a.d. 79, when it was buried by 
Vesuvius. A catalogue of these and similar paintings from Hcrcu- 
laneum and Stabiae, compiled by Professor Hclbig, comprises 1966 
specimens. The excavations in the baths of Titus and other 
ancient buildings in Rome, made in the early part of the i6th 
century, excited the keenest interest and admiration among the 
painters of that time, and largely influenced the later art of the 
Renaissance. These paintings, especially the " grotesques '' 
or fanciful patterns of scroll-work and pilasters mixed with 
semi-realistic foliage and figures of boys, animals and birds, 
designed with great freedom of touch and mventive power, seem 
to have fascinated Raphael during his later period, and many of 
his ptipils and contemporaries. The " loggie " of the Vatican 
and of the Famcsina palace are full of carefully studied 
x6th-century reproductions of these highly decorative paintings. 
The excavations in Rome have brought to light some mural 
paintings of the ist century a.d., perhaps superior in execution 
even to the best of the Pompcian series (see Plate). 

The range of subjects found in Roman mural paintings is large 
—mythology, religious ceremonies, genre, still life and even 
landscape (the latter generally on a small scale, and treated in an 
artificial and purely decorative way), and lastly history. Pliny 
mentions several large and important historical paintings, such 
as those with which Valerius Maximus Messala decorated the 
walls of the Curia Hostilia, to commemorate his own victory over 
Hiero tl. and the Carthaginians in Sicily in the 3rd century B.C. 
The earliest Roman painting recorded by Pliny was by Fabius, 
surnamed Pictor, on the walls of the temple of Salus, executed 
about 300 B.C. (£r. N, xxxv. 4). 

Pliny (xxxv. i) laments the fact that tne wealthy Romans 
of his time preferred the costly splendours of marble and por- 
phyry wall-linings to the more artistic decoration of paintings 
by good artists. Historical painting seems then to have gone 
out of fashion; among the numerous specimens now existing 
few from Pompeii represent historical subjects; one has the 
scene of Massinissa and Sophonisba before Scipio, and another 
of a riot between the people of Pompeii and Nocera, which 
happened 59 a.d. 

Mythological scenes, chieliy trom Greek sources, occur most 
frequently: the myths of Eros and Dionysus are especial 
iavourites. Only five or six relate to purely Roman mythology. 

' One instance only of a tomb-painting is mentioned by Pausanias 
(vii. 32). Some fine specimens nave been discovered in the Crimea, 
but not of a very early date; see Stephani, CompU rendut &c., 
(St Petersburg. 1878), &c. 



We have reason to think that some at least of the Pompeian 
pictures are copies^ probably at third or fourth hand, from 
celebrated Greek originals. The frequently repeated subjects 
of Medea meditating the murder of her children and Iphigenia 
at the shrine of the Tauric Artemis suggest that the motive 
and composition were taken from the originals of these subjects 
by Timanthes. Those of lo and Argus, the finest example of 
which is in the Palatine " villa of Livia " and of Andromeda 
and >Pet3eus, often repeated on Pompeian walls, may be from 
the originals by Nicias. 

In many cases these mural paintings are of high artistic 
merit, though they are probably not the work of the most 
distinguished painters of the time, but rather of a humbler 
class of decorators, who reproduced, without much original 
invention, stock designs out of some pattern-book. They 
are, however, all remarkable for the rapid skill and extreme 
" verve " and freedom of hand with which the designs are, as 
it wcre> flung on to the walls with few but effective touches. 
Though in some cases the motive and composition are superior 
to the execution, yet many of the paintings are remarkable 
both for their realistic truth and technical skill. The great 
painting of Ceres from Pompeii, now in the Nq>les Museum, 
is a work of the highest merit. 

In the usual scheme of decoration the broad wall-surfaces are 
broken up into a series of panels by pilasters, columns, or other 
architectural forms. Some of the panels contain pictures with 
figure-subjects; others have conventional ornament, or hanging 
festoons of fruit and flowers. The lower part of the wall is 
painted one plain colour, forming a dado; the upper part some- 
times has a well-designed frieze of flowing ornaments. In the 
better class of painted walls the whole is kept flat in treatment, 
and is free from too great subdivision, but in many cases great 
want of taste is shown by the introduction of violent effects of 
architectural perspective, and the space is broken up by com- 
plicated schemes of design, studded with pictures in varying 
scales which have little relation to their surroundings. The 
colouring is on the whole pleasant and harmonious — unlike the 
usual chromo-lithographic copies. Black, yellow, or a rich deep 
red are the favourite colours for the main ground of the walls, 
the pictures in the panels being treated separately, each with its 
own background. 

An interesting series of early Christian mural pamtings exists 
in various catacombs, especially those of Rome and Naples. 
They are of value both as an important link in the g^^ 
history of art and also as throwing light on* the atritUam 
mental state of the early Christians, which was dis- ^^«Uagia 
tinctly influenced by the older faith. Thus in the ''^' 
earlier paintings of about the 4th century we find Christ repre- 
sented as a beardless youth, beautiful as the artist could make 
him, with a lingering tradition of Greek idealization, in no degree 
like the " Man of Sorrows " of medieval painters, but rather 
a kind of genius of Christianity in whose fair outward form- 
the peace and purity of the new faith were visibly symbolized, 
just as certain distinct attributes were typified in the persons 
of the gods of ancient Greece. The favourite early subject, 
" Christ the Good Shephenl " (fig. 8), is represented as Orpheus 
playing on his lyre to a circle of beasts, the pagan origin of the 
picture being shown by the Phrygian cap and by the presence of 
lions, panthers and other incongruous animals among the listen- 
ing sheep. In other cases Christ is depicted standing with a sheep 
borne on His shoulders like Hermes Criophoros or Hemes 
Psychopompos — favourite Greek subjects, especially the former, 
a statue of which Pausanias (ix. 32) mentions as existing at 
Tanagra in Boeotia. Here again the pagan origin of the type 
is shown by the presence in the catacomb paintings of the pan- 
pipes and pedum, special attributes of Hermes, but quite forc^^ 
to the notion of Christ. Though in a degraded form, a good 
deal survives in some of these paintings,^ especially in the earb'er 
ones, of the old classical grace of composition and beauty of 
drawing, notably in the above-mentioned representations where 
old models were copied without any adaptation to their new 
meaning. Those of the 5th and 6th centuries follow the classical 



MURAL DECORATION 



■C Myte, natil the iouoduc- 

Iroh i(utiiig>pauit on dUctat Una. The old DttoraiiBn ud 
urvivij oi cli Mici l fncdam of diKwing h repUccd by iiiff, 
con v BitioMHy hienlk types, upeiior {□ dignity mad itreDgth 
to the feeble cocnpositioiB pmdund by tfac dcgndallon inlo 
■hkh iLe nitin ut of Romt hid fallrn. The doigiu of Uui 
itomd poiod of Cbiiitlu in ire lioiilu lo thooc of the 



fn 




CiUnmibi of St CnlLixIul. Ron 

--- ChiMt Ibt Good Shcpbei 

cm tyjjHof Cbiiit. 



fuch mi nanj It Rirennat and il» to da magiuGnoIly ilLumi- 
uled MSS. Foi loine centuries there ni little c^nge or 
dcveh^meiit is thii Byzutise alyle of ut, k Ihit II is imposiible 
in moat cua to be Hire from iclemal evidence of the ditc of 
uy prtintins. This lo some extent ipptits il» to the worlu 
cf till (sclia or pagin Kboid, tluuEh, roughly ipeikJng, it may 
be Bid tint tbe kaM mcritcinoui piclUKi ue the titcst [a 
due. 

Tlioe olicomb paintings lange ant a long qace of time; 
usw mar possibly be of the ist ot ind centuiy, t.g. tbose 
b (he cemelciy al Domitilla, Romei othen lie as late as the 
^h cenLury, e.g' Knne fuU-Length figures of St Cornelius ind 
S( Cypriu in the catacomb of St Calliitus, under which earlier 
paintio^ may be traced, la execution they somewhat resemble 
■be Etruscan tomb-painting; tbe walls of tbe catacomb paiiigea 
oad chambers, excavated in soft tufa, are covered with a thin 
^dn of white stucco, and on that the mural and ceiling paintings 
tie vmp4y executed in earth colours. The favourite subjects 
d the earliest piintingi are scenei bom the Old Tesiimcnl 
«hidi w e r e supposed to tyfufy events in the life of Christ, such 
IS the uctifice of Isaac (Christ's death], Jonah and the whale 
{the Resurrection), Moses strildng the rock, or pointing to the 
Buna (dUBt the water of life, and tbe Eucharist), and many 
otiiBa. The later paintings deal more with later subjects, 

lirj pcrfoTTTicd. A fine lene* of these exists in the lower church 
if S. DemcBte in Rome, apparently dating from the 6th to the 
lah ccMuries; among these are representations of the passion 
ud deuh of Christ—lubjects never chosen by the earlier 
ClrrisEian^, except as dimly foreshadowed by the Old Testament 
inxi. Wbeo Christ Himself is depicted in tbe early catacomb 
Ftuniigs H i> Id ^ory nod power, not in H& buman weakness and 

Other early Italiao paintings mist on the wifls of the church 
t( the Tie Fooiane near Rome, and in the Capelli di S. Urbano 
iDi f'g"-"', executed in the eariy part of the tiih century. 
Tk i tiiuiu of S. Lotenio fuori le mura, Rome, and (he church 
cf the QoattiD Sanll IdcoiodsiI have |iiunl paintinp of the 



It  



Ctlill tl 



'hicb show no artistic imptovc 






srfivece 



cf tl 



that stiS iraditionil Byianti 
to be superseded by tbe tevival of native art in Italy by 
the pamiers of Florence, Pisa and Siena. During the fiiit 
thirteen centuriet of the Christian era muial painting appear* 
to have been lor the most part confined to the lepre- 
sentation of iioed subjects. It is remarLable that during 
the earlier centuries coundl after council of the Chriitian 
Church forbade the painting of figure-subjects, and especially 
those of any Feisoa of tbe Trinity; but in vain. In spile 
of the seal of bishop* and othen, who sometimes with iheir 
own ludt defaced the piclurei of Christ on the walls of 
the churches, in spite of threats of excommunication, the for- 
bidden paintings by degrees became more numerous, till the walb 
of almost every church throughout Christendom were decorated 
with whole series of pictured stories. The useless prohibition 
was becoming obsolete when, towards the end of the 4th century, 
the learned Paulinus, bishop of Nola, ordered the two baailicis 
which he bad built at Fondi and Noli to be adorned irith wiQ- 
palntin^ of sacred subjects, with the special object, aa be lays, 
ol instructing and refining the ignorant and drunken peo^de. 
These painted histories were in fact the books cA the unlearned, 
and we can now hardly realize tfieir value as the chief mode of 
religious teaching in ages when none but the clergy couU lead 

During the middle ages, jusi aa long before among the ancient 
Greeks, coburcd decoration was used in the widest possible 
manner not only for the adorament ol flat walls, o^^t 
but also for the enrichment of sculpture and all the Mmal 
fittings and architectural features of buildings, '**"'"«^ 
whether the material to be painted was plaster, stone, marble 
or wood. It was only the damp and frosts of northern climates 

exposed parts of the ouliidca of buildings. The varying tints 
and leiluie of smoothly worked stone appear to have given no 
pleasure to the medieval eye; and in the rare cases in which the 
poverty ol some country church prevented its walla from being 
adorned with painted ornaments or picture* the whole surface 
of Ihc stonework inside, moulding* and carving as well as 
flat walt.tpaces. was coveted with a thin coat of whilewath. 
Internal rough stonework wii invariably concealed by stucco, 
fotming 1 iraoolh ground (or passible future paintings. Un- 
happily 1 gtcal proportion of inuial paintings have been de- 
stroyed, though many b a more or less mutilated state still exist 
in England. It is difficult (and doubly so smce the so^ralled 
"retioiation " ol most old buildings) to realise the splendour 
of eSect once possessed by every Iniporlant medieval church. 
From the tiled fiooi to the cool all was one mass of gold and 
colour. The brilliance of the mural paintings and richly 

decorated with gilding and painting, while the light, passing 
through stained glass, softened and helped to combine 
the whole bio one masa of decorative cSect. Colour was 
boldly applied everywhere, and thus the patchy eSect was 
voided which Is so often the result of the modern timid and 
dttiat use of painted otnament. Even tbe liguie-sculplute 
ras painted in n strong and realistic manner, sometimes by a 
rax encaustic process, probably the same as the linamlilit 
t classical limes. In the account* for expenses in deconling 
Orvieto cathedral wax is a frequent item among the materials 

ipplied to Andrea Pisano (in 1345) for the decoration of tbe 
beautiful reliefs in white marble on tbe tower pan ol tbe west 



r|b1u taUi MiOy treucd. Abavs ihii dtdo nugti of 
pktumt with figun-aobjecu wen iwiatcd in tin* one 
■Bove ilie other, eidi idctuie 
frequently aurrounded by i 
punted frame with ircb Mnd 
gible of arduteciunJ doign 
PaiDicd bands of chevron o 
other geometrical omamen 
till the 13th century, and 
Bowing omunenl aftcmards, 
ujually divide 



MURAL DECORATION 

any of the unaller wori 




ODlally ar 



top and bottom boundaiio of 
j the dado. In the caie ol B 
rch, the end valli uiusUy 
have figurca to a larger Kal 
On the cut nil ol the nave over the chancel arch there ms 
leoeratly a large [-'"'I"e ol the " Doom " or Lait Judgment. 
One ol the commanal nibjecta is a coloual figure of El Chrii- 
Upbei ^g. 10) uiually on the uva wall oppotiti the priadpal 




Pl0.in^-Wall-PiiiilingatStChriaMphc(. (Lmic Ufeiiie.) 
entnnce— (elected becauae the light ol a |Hctiire ot Ihia aalnt 
ma luppoeed to bring good luck for the rest ol the day. Figure* 
»ere alio olten painted on the jambs of the windowB and on the 
pien and Mffit of the arches, eipedally that opening into the 

The little Norman church at Kemplcv in ClmicEnenhin (date 
about 1100] hai perKap* the bcit-prewrved ipRnoKii ol the com- 
piete a^x deconliaa d[ a chanctV' The nonh and WHitb walls 

eiche*. aiwi cadi ude. The sH nil hacl^gle fiiuret ol ■iali 
at the lidei of the crntnt windoB, and the none barrel vault 1* 
mveied with a represenuiioB ol St John'i apocalyptie visoa — 

' ^ ' tt nifl geoiHtrkal detignh 
li a lar|e picture ol Ibe 
'^- 'o pan of the 






id other figures 
iMinp ol tSit wL 



InK 



s 



inted < 






haaiHJjamb 



of [hero 



l^pjy^ 



In the ijlh century the painters of England reached a high 
point ot artiallc power and lechnEcal ikiQ, so that paintings were 
produced by native artists equal, il not superior, to those ot 
the URie period anywhere on the Continent. The central 
painting! on (he wilb of the chapterhouse and on the retable 
il the htfi nlur ol Wcstminiter Abbey are not lurpaued by 
*Ste Atchathtit, vol. dvi. (lUo). 



1 luchmenasCimabuetndDacdo 

Lving when hcse Wesimuuler 

Unhappily pari y hiough the 

poverty and anarchy brough abou by he French wars arwl 

'1 Wan th Rotes h dev t^m n art In England oiads 

lie progreu tlta he begmnuig ol the 4th ten uiy and it 




Eogbifa Painluig— St John the EvmngeUit. 



wu not till a Ijme when the renaissance ol an in Italy bad fallen 
into decay that ila influence reached the British shore*. In 
the. I Jib ceniuiy some beautiful work, somewhat aflecied by 
Flemish influence, was produced b England (fig, 11), chiefly 
in the form of figures painted on the oak panels of chancel 
and chapel screens, especially in Norfolk and SuSolk; but thcM 
cannot be said to rival the woika of the Van Eycki and other 
ptinteti of that time In Flanders. To return to the ijtb 
century, the ralmlnating period ol English art in painting arid 
sculpture, much was owed to Henry Ul.'s love for and patronage 
ot the fine arts; he employed a large number ol painten. to 
decorate his various castles and palaces, especially tbe palace ot 
WestniinMer, one Urge ball of wliich wu kaown as Ibe " painted 



MURAL DECORATION 



'S 



damha " trail ibe rem of loe pIctuRi witb vhkh lu *alli 
*m coTcnd. After Ihe t^tb centufy tbc " nusoniy paltern " 
«as diiUKd for tbe lower parts of wills, ud the chevniny and 
olber stiff pat term for Ibe borders were reptiCed by more flowing 
d^gnf Tlie chsracler of tbc punted fipiies becune less 

WIS idopied, ud [bey ceue to tecaQ the ucbaic majeily ud 
tnndeur ol ibe ByamUnt mouio. 

It Diiy be noted thu during tbe utb cemmy wdl-tpuet 
d by figure-subjects were often mvered by graceful 
-s| flowing patlerru, drawn wiLb great 
' . freedor ' ' 




etrical r 



Fig. 1 



the churcb of Stanley St Leonard t 
Cloucestenkiie, it • good character 
iilic qieciinen of itlh-cenlury decon- 
tlon; it bon tbe walli of tbe chanul, 
filling up the (paces between the 
painted figures; the flowera are blue, 
and the Una red on a white ground. 

design is taken from encauilic tiles, 
as It Bengeo Churcb, Herts, where 



Fig. II. — Floirinit Pat- 
tern. Endiih utE-cen- 

Eujy Wail-PaiDtuig. - — 1 1 

containing an heraldic lion. Tha 
imitathc nolion occurs during all periods— Dusoory, hanging 
curtains, tilei and architectural features lucb as niches and 
ca2U|Hes bemg very Irequenliy represented, thou^ always 
in a simple deoorative fashion with do attempt at actual 
M probably from any fixed principle that shj 









s the 



deornlive eSec^ Thus in tbe ijll^ ud 

_iictoii«l wall- 

Tuixu pattemi taken fiom the beautiful 

. velvet* of Sidly, Florence, Genoa and other 

form cF tbe "pine-apple ' 




Fio. li^tStlMeBtury Watl-Paintfiig. 

devdoped partly from Otieatal lomtts, I . 

u tbe end of the 15th ccDtuiy, was copied and Tcpr(>duccd 
textiles, printed stuffs and waU-ptpers with but little change 
do>wn to the (wnenl century — a tcmaikable instance of survival 
in desigiL Fif. n is a ^icdmeo of isih-centuiy English decora- 
tive painting, copied from a 14th-century Sicilian silk damask. 
Diapers, powdering with flowers, sacred monograms and 
qx^TS bI btOBom were frequently used to ornament large 
*drf aces ia a liinpk way. Many of Iboe ait ealieniely beautiful 



Su^jaU m; UMifal Waa-Ptiniitt>-—Jti ehurchcs and domenic 
lUUdiiwt aEke tbe usual Hibjecu reprtsenied on (he walls were 
pedal^ selected lor tbeil monl and iBIixioui teKJung, sthei 




yet till (bout the 13 

cutcd .in the mort Jinpte p,^ ij.-PowderiBM nitd in tjtb- 
;^X.:^h'^r;:.'^a ceatuiyWauS^ting. 

on dry stucco: even when  iniooth Mooe suifac* wa> to be 
piinted a thin eul of whitening or fiat (UU wi* laid as a 
grnund. In the i^lh century, and perhaps earlier, oil was com- 
moniv ufed both as a medium for the i^ginents and alio to make 
a vamith to cover and fix tempera paintinn. The Van Eycks 
introduced the use ol Jryrtt of a better kind than bad yet been 
uKd. and h Urvely extended tbe application of oi1<painting. 
Before Ibeir time il Wnu to have been the cuttom to drir wait 
paintinis Laboriouily by Ihe use of charcoal brazen, if tbn_vTi« 
in a poailion where the lun could lut ihine upon them. Thu ii 
< See CellKluiu ^ Svrty Anlutl. £k. vol v, pt. ii. iiaji). 



MURANO 



wedilly mo 

nign of'BUlii 
writ* mwti 



^^^^M 


fmmmmm 


^^ 


: i 



.16. ■oil.rftmwBinrvr.diiilLiii. (W. Ma; J. H. M.) 

Mutat painling in England [(11 iaia disuic in Ihe i6tb ctnlluy, 

ilil iltempu 10 revive it me nide in (be igth century, 

ir domeatlc purposes wood panelling, lUmped leather^ iDd 

lopeslry were ducQy used u wali-coveiings. In llie reign of 

Ueniy VIII., probably in pari Ihnnigh Ilolbcin'i induenci.  

Ifaei coane tcmprra wall-painlinj, Cennan in ityli, cppsn 

have be«D common.' A good ciample of anbcsque paiming 

oi Ihi) period in blaciL and white, ruddy though boldly drawn 

and Holbcinesqueinchaiacter,wai discovered in j3Bi behind the 

■■ing in one ol the canoni' housei at Weslmimler. OUict 

lies ciist Bl Haddon HoU (Derbyshire) and eliewhere. 

gy effort) have been made hi England to revive fieico 

Dg. The Houaet of Parliameni bisi witnesa to this, the 

principal works there being those of William Dyce aod Daniel 

Midise. TTiat o[ G. F. Walts, whose easel work alto is genetally 

distinguished by ' 



^ MouMfd PLute 



an English Donk in the adiaining Beoedicdne abbey ol 
ininHec. rcoinid two •hilUiiEi a day. Waller ol Durhai 
VU10UI memben of the Olho family, royal gotdsmithi and mcr 
worked ior oiany yan on Ihe adornmem of Henry III.'i 
and were well nid for their skilL Some Iragmeqti of paintings 
from the royal chipel of St Stephen are now In the Brilift 
UuKun). They are delicate and catefuUy, punted .ubjecta Irom 
ewament.j^n nc co ourfcOl^ ^^ ^^p^ btilt^iaja^ 






probably to 



paulted in 1 
ihe'^cot 



vss-i 



ently io tempera, gold I 
fi. and the wLle hat bee 
lit to mlize the laboiir r 

/ 17 ft., with this style of 






^l^^with Ihil 



oTngl^nui 



e effect of the ht^t nKtal iliiali 
Enificent. Hiia ninuteneis of mucu vi (mc 
11 i< renurbablc. Lar^e will-aurfaccs and 
re often oompletely covered by elaborate 
of altnon mfcroKopic delicacy (fig. 16). 



;i indi^erent coloura. bui he also ftequenllyco 
Bllet with paijiTcd Howen and other patten 
■e in an ilmminated MS — so minute and h 

the ei^eral riclinesi of effect. All this is nc^ 
reductions ol mcdhtvil painting, in which 
nit are coarv and hanh— caricaiurca of th 
diifjeure the Sainie Chapellc in Paris, and 
Franrc. Cerrnany and Englanl. Cold was 
luj.iU'.ic! uiihout the gnund on which It wa 



10 fro 



"(ibep 



ntlngin 



freshly laid gtound of plaster while wet). ' 
nbicr-Parry method (lie JHintiiif with a spint medium 
upona v*anlly piepoicd plaster or canvasgtound*), and "water- 
-*--- " psinting (wherein the method is similar to water-colour 
painting on a prepared plastered wall, the painting when finished 
chemical Bolutioa which hartlens and 
protects Ihe surface), have all been tried. Other processes are 
Iso in Ihe cipctimcntal ttage, such as that known as Keim's, 
'hicfa has been succcaafully tried by Mrs Blcrrilt in a series of 
mural paintings in a church at Oiilworth. Unless, however, 
painted wall 



le naturalised in 



Id resist the Datura] dampness of the English di 
seem likely that true tnxo painting can ever I 
Great Britain. Of two of the few modem 
with impoitinl mural work in England, Ford Madoi Brown 
and Frederick J. Shields, the former distinguished especially for 
his £ne series of mural pointings in the ManchesLer towu-hajl, in 
the later paintings there adopted the modem melhod of painting 
the design upon canvas in flat oil colour, using a wax medium, 
and aftctwaids aSiing the canvas to the nail by means ol white 









Shields has painted the panel 
in the chapd of the Ascension at fiayswater. London, also 
upon canvas In oilt, and has adopted the method of fixing them 
Io slabs of slate facing tbe wall to (s to avoid the risk of damp 
from the wall itself. Frieies and frieze panels or ceilings in 
private houses 'ore usually painted upon canvas in oil and affiled 
to the wall or inserted upon their strainen. like pictures in a 
frame, (Waller Cranehatused£brousplailerpanels.paintingio 

tvivol of K ' 






grfres 






with yi 



}n panel and m 



irding to the practice of the early Italian paintets and the 
directions of Cennino Cennbi, A pure liuninoua quality of 
colour is produced, valuable ia mural decoration and alio 
durable, especially under vamish. (W. Ci.) 

MUBAHO (anc. Afumariuiu), an island in the Venetian lagoon 
about I m. north of Venice. 11 is j m. in circumference, 
and a large part of it is occupied by gardens. It contained stjO 

favourite resort of the Venetian nobility bdore they began to 
build their villas on the mainland; and in Ihe tjth and i6ib 
centuries its gardens and casinos, of nhicb some traces remain, 
were famous. It was here that the literary dubs of the Vigilanii. 
the Sludiod aod Ihe Occulti. used to meet. 

Part. II. ann. se.l:"f^Iild/. And 



1 Shakespeare, 
rthywaTlTa, 



bed-ha 



'ai in this method dial the lunettes by Lord Leighton at 
I and Albert Museum weiepaintedion (heplaater wall, 
linter produced a fresco at Lyndhurst Church, Hams, 



MURAS— MURAT 



27 



The town is built jsptm one broad: main canil, wbere the 
tidal cQirent runs with great force, and upon leveral smaller 
<»es. The cathedral, S. Donato, is a fine basilica, of the lath 
century. The pavement (of 11 11) is as richly inlaid as that of 
St Mark's, and the mosaics of the tribune are remarkable. The 
exterior of the tribune is beautiful, and has been successfully 
ic^orcd. The diurch of St Peter the Martyi (i 509) contains a 
fine picture by Gentile Bellini and other works, and S. Maria degli 
Aag^ also contains several interesting pictures. Murano has 
from ancient times been celebrated for its glass manufactories. 
When and bow the ait was introduced is obscure, but there 
are notices of it as early as the xith century; and in 1250 Christo- 
foro Bxiani attempted the imitation of agate and chalcedony. 
From the labours of his pupil Bliotto q>rang that branch of 
the ^asB trade which h concenied with the imitation of gems. 
In the X5th century the first crystals were made, and in the 
17th the various gradations of coloured and iridescent glass 
were invented, together with the composition called " aventu- 
rine "; the manufacture of beads fa now a main branch of the 
trade. The art of the glass-worken was taken under the 
protection of the Government in 1375, and regulated by a special 
code of laws and privileges; two fairs were held annually, and 
the esport of all materials, such as alum and sand, which enter 
into the composition of glass was absolutely forbidden. With 
the decay of Venice the importance of the Murano glass-works 
dfrHnrd; but A. Sahdati (1816-2890) rediscovered many of the 
o|d processes, and ei|^t firms are engaged in the trade, the 
most i c no w cd being the Venezia Murano 0>mpany and Salviati. 
The munidpal museum contains a collection of glass illustrating 
the histoty and progress of the art. 

The island of Murano was first peopled by the inhabitants 

ol Altino. It oris^nally enjojred independence under the rule 

of its tribtmes and judges, and was one of the twelve confederate 

islands of the lagoons. In the lath century the doge Vital 

Micheli II. incorporated Murano in Venice and attached it to 

the Sestiere of S. Croce. Rom that date it was governed by 

a Venetian noUeman with the title of podesti whose office 

lasted sixteen months. Murano, however, retained its original 

constitation of a greater and a lesser council for the transaction 

of nnmidpal business, and also the right to coin gold and silver 

as wen as its judicial poweis. The interests of the town 

woe watched at the ducal palace by a nuncio and a solicitor; 

and this constitution xemained in force till the fall of the 

repoblic. 

See Vemetia t U sue Lagmu; Paoletti. 77 Piore di Venesia; Bu»- 
solin, Cuida aUe fabbricu vttrarit di Murano; Romania. Storia 
docwmtmkUa di Venaia, L 41. 

■UBAS, a tribe of South-American Indians living on the 
Amaaon, from the Madeira to the Purus. Formerly a powerful 
people, they were defeated by their neighbours the Mundrucus 
in 1788. They are now partly civilized. Each village has 
a chief whose ofike b hereditary, but he has little power. The 
Moras are among the lowest of all Amaxonian tribes. 

■URAT, JOACHIM (1767-18x5), king of Naples, younger 
SOD of an innkeeper at La Bastide-Fortuni^ in the department 
erf Lot, France, was bom on the 2Sth of March 1767. Destined 
for the priesthood, he obtained a bursary at the college of Cahors, 
l»ooteding afterwards to the university of Toulouse, where 
be stodi^ canon law. His vocation, however, was certainly 
not sacerdotal, and after dissipating his money he enlisted in a 
cavalry regiment. In 1789 be had attained the rank of marickal 
da lofis, but in 1790 he was dismissed the regiment for in- 
sttbordination. After a period of idleness, he was enrolled, 
through the good offices of J. B. Cavaignac, m the new Constitu- 
timal Guard of Louis XVI. (1791). In Paris he gained a reputa- 
tion for his good looks, his swaggering attitude, and the violence 
of his revolutionary sentiments. On the 30th of May 1792, the 
fuard having been disbanded, he was appointed sub-lieutenant 
in the sxst Chasseurs i cheval, with which regiment he served 
in the Argonne and the Pyrenees, obtaining in the latter campaign 
the ownmand of a squadron. After the 9th Thermidor, however, 
and the proscription of the Jacobins, with whom he had 



conspicuously identified himself, be feD under suspicion and 
was recalled from the front. 

Returning to Paris (i79s)> ^'^ made the acquaintance of 
Napoleon Bonaparte, another yoxmg officer out of employment, 
who soon gained a complete ascendancy over his vain, ambitious 
and unstable nature. On the xjth Vendfmiaire, when Bonaparte, 
commissioned by Barras, beat down with cannon the armed 
insurrection of the Paris sections against the Convention, Murat 
was his most active and courageous lieutenant, and was rewarded 
by the lieutenant-colonelcy of the 21st Chasseurs and the appoint- 
ment of first aide de camp to General Bonaparte in Italy. In 
the first battles of the famous campaign of 1796 Murat so 
distinguished himself that he was chosen to carry the captured 
flags to Paris. He was promoted to be general of brigade, and 
returned to Italy in time to be of f^smtial service to Bonaparte 
at Bassano, Corona and Fort St Gk>igio, where he was wounded. 
He was then sent on a diplomatic mission to Genoa, but returned 
in time to be present at Riv(di. In the advance into Tirol in 
the summer of 1797 he commanded the vanguard, and by his 
passage of the Tagliamento hurried on the preliminaries of 
Leoben. In 1798 he was for a short time commandant at Rome, 
and then accompanied Bonaparte to Egypt. At the battle 
of the Pyramids he led his first famous cavalry charge, and so 
distinguished himsdf in Syria that he was made general of 
division (October, 1799). He returned to France with Bonaparte, 
and on the z8th Brumaire led into the orangery of Saint Cloud 
the sixty grenadiers whose appearance broke up the Council 
of Five Himdrcd. After the success of the coup d'itai he was 
nuule commandant of the consular guard, and on the 20th of 
January x8oo he married Caroline Bonaparte, youngest sister 
of the first consul. He commanded the French cavalry at 
the battle of Marengo, and was afterwards made governor in 
the Cisalpine Republic. As commander of the army of observa- 
tion in Tuscany he forced the Neapolitans to evacuate the Papal 
States and to accept the treaty of Florence (March 28, 1801). 
In January 1804 he was given the post of governor of Paris, 
and in this capacity appointed the military commission by which 
the due d'Enghien was tried and shot (Mut± 30) ; in May he was 
made marshal of the empire; in February 1805 he was made 
grand admiral, with the title of prince, and invested with the 
grand eagle of the Legion of Honoxir. He commanded the 
cavalry of the Grand Army in the German campaign of 1805, 
and was so conspicuous at Austerlitz that Napoleon made him 
grand duke of Berg and Cleves (March 15, x8o6). He com- 
manded the cavalry at Jena, Eyiau, and Fricdiand, and in 
1808 was made general-in-chief of the French aimies in Spain. 
He entered Madrid on the 2Sth of March, and on the 2nd of 
May suppressed an insurrection in the city. He did much to 
prepare the events which ended in the abdication of Charles IV. 
and Ferdinand VII. at Bayonne; but the hopes he had cherished 
of himself receiving the crown of Spain were disappointed. On 
the ist of August, however, he was appointed by Napoleon to 
the throne of Naples, vacated by the transference of Joseph 
Bonaparte to Spain. 

King Joachim Napoleon, as he styled himself, entered Naples 
in September, his handsome presence and open manner gaining 
him instantaneous popularity. Almost his first act as king 
was to attack Capri, which he wrested from the British; but, 
this done, he returned to Naples and devoted himself to establish- 
ing his kingship according to his ideas, a characteristic blend 
of the vulgarity of a parvenu ynih the essential principles of 
the Revolution. He daizled the lazzaroni with the extravagant 
splendour of his costumes; he set up a sumptuous court, created 
a new nobility, nominated marshals. With an eye to the over- 
throw of his legitimate rival in Sicily, he organized a large army 
and even a fleet; but he also swept away the last relics of the 
effete feudal system and took effident measures for suppressing 
brigandage. From the first his relations with Napoleon were 
strained. The emperor upbraided him sarcastically for his 
"monkey tricks" (singeries); Murat ascribed to the deh'bcrate 
ill-will of the French generals who served with him, and even to 
Nqwleon, the failure of his attack on Sicily ini 8 1 o. He resent ed 



28 



MURAT 



bis subordination to the emperor, and early began his pose as an 
Italian king by demanding the withdrawsd of the French troops 
from Naples and naturalitttion as Neapolitans of all Frenchmen 
in the service of thi state (i8x i). Napoleon, of course, met this 
demand with a curt refusal. A breach between the brothers- 
in-law was only averted by the Russian campaign of z8za and 
Napoleon's invitation to Murat to take command of the cavalry 
in the Grand Army. This was a call which appealed to aU 
his strongest military instincts, and he ob^ed iL During the 
disastrous retreat he showed his usual headstrong courage; but 
in the middle of December he suddenly threw up his. command 
and returned to Naples. The reason of this was the suspicion, 
which had been growing on him for two years past, that Napoleon 
was preparing for him the fate of the king of Holland, and that 
his own wife. Queen Caroline, was plotting with the emperor 
for his dethronement. To Marshal Davout, who pointed out to 
him that he was only king of Naples " by grace of the emperor 
and the blood of Frenchmen," he replied that he was king of 
Naples as the emperor of Austria was emperor of Austria, and 
that he could do as he liked. He was, in fact, already dresining 
of exchanging his position of a vassal king of the French Empire 
for that of a national Italian king. In the enthusiastic reception 
that awaited him on his return to Naples on the 4th of February 
there was nothing to dispel these illusions. All the Italian 
parties flocked round him, flattering and cajoling him: the 
patriots, because he seemed to them loyal and glorious enough 
to assume the task of Italian unification; the partisans of the dk- 
possessed princes, because they looked upon him as a convenient 
instrument and as simple enough to be made an ea^ dupe. 

From tliis moment dates the importance of Murat in the 
histoiy of Europe during the next few 3reaxs. He at once, 
without consulting his minister of foreign affairs, despatched 
Prince Cariati on a confidential mission to Vienna; if Austria 
would secure the renunciation of his rights by King Ferdinand 
and guarantee the possession of the kingdom of Naples to himself, 
he would place his army at her disposal and give up his claims 
to Sicily. Austria herself, however, had not as yet broken 
definitively with Napoleon, and before she openly joined the 
Grand Alliance, after the illusory congress of Prague, many 
things had happened to make Murat change his mind. He was 
offended by Napoleon's bitter letters and by tales of his sUghting 
comments on himself; he was alarmed by the emperor's scarcely 
veiled threats; but alter all he was a child of the Revolution 
and a born soldier, with all the soldier's instinct of loyalty to 
a great leader, and he grasped eagerly at any excuse for believing 
that Napoleon, in the event of victory, would maintain him 
on his throne. Then came the emperor's advance into Germany, 
supported as yet by his allies of the Rhenish Confederation. 
On the fatal field of Leipzig Murat once more fought on Napo- 
leon's side, leading the French. squadrons with all his old valour 
and dash. But this crowning catastrophe was too much for 
his wavering faith. On the evening of the z6th of October, 
the first day of the battle, Mettemich found means to open a 
separate negotiation with him: Great Britain and Austria 
would, in the event of Murat's withdrawal from Napoleon's 
army and refusal to send reinforcements to the viceroy of Italy, 
secure the cession to him of Naples by King Ferdinand, guarantee 
him in its possession, and obtain for him further advantages 
in Italy. To accept the Austrian advances seemed now his 
only chance of continuing to be a king. At Erfurt he asked 
and obtained the emperoPs leave to return to Naples; " our 
adieux," he said, '* were not over-cordial." 

He reached Naples on the 4th of November and at once 
informed the Austrian envoy of his wish to join the Allies, 
suggesting that the Papal States, with the exception of Rome 
and the surrounding district, should be made over to him as 
his reward. On the jxst of December Count Neipperg, after- 
wards the lover of the empress Marie Louise, arrived at Naples 
with powers to treat. The result was the signature, on the nth 
of January 1814, of a treaty by which Austria guxiranteed to 
Murat the throne of Naples and promised her good offices to 
iecure the assent of the other Allies. Secret additional articles 



stipulated that Austria would use her good offices to secure the 
renunciation by Ferdinand of his rights to Naples, in return 
foe an indemnity to hasten the conclusion of peace between 
Naples and Great Britain, and to augment the Neapolitan 
kingdom by territory embracing 400,000 souls at the expense 
of the states of the Church. 

The project of the treaty having been communicated to 
Castlereagh, he replied by expressing the willingness of the 
British government to conclude an armistice with *' the person 
exercising the government of Naples " (Jan. as), and this was 
accordingly signed on the 3rd oi February by Bentinck. It 
was dear that Great Britain had no intention of ultimately 
recognizing Murat's right to reign. As for Austria, she would 
be certain that Murat's own folly would, -sooner or later, give 
her an opportunity for repudiating her engagements. For the 
present the Neapoh'tan alliance would be invaluable to the Allies 
for the purpose of putting an end to the French dominion in 
Italy. The plot was all but spoilt by the prince royal, of Sicily, 
who in an order ox the day announced to his soldiers that their 
legitimate sovereign had not renounced his rights to the throne 
of Naples (Feb. 20); from the Austrian point of view it was 
compromised by a proclamation issued by Bentinck at Leghorn 
on the Z4th of March, in which he called on the Italians to rise 
in support of the "great cause of their fatherland." From 
Dijon Castlereagh promptly wrote to Bentinck (April 3) to say 
that the proclamation of the prince of Sicily must be disavowed, 
and that if King Ferdinand did not behave properly Great 
Britain would recognize* Murat's title. A letter from Mettemich 
to Manhal Bellegarde, of the same place and date, insisted 
that Bentinck's operations must be altered; the last thing that 
Austria desired was an Italian national rising. 

It was, indeed, by this time clear to the allied powen that 
Murat's ambition had o'erleaped the bounds set for them. 
"Murat, a true son of the Revolution," wrote Mettemich, 
in the same letter, " did not hesitate to form projects of con- 
quest when all his care should have been limited to simple 
calculations as to how to preserve his throne. ... He dreamed 
of a partition of Italy between him and us. . . . When we refused 
to annex all Italy north of the Po, he saw that his calculaUona 
were wrong, but refused to abandon his ambitions. His attitude 
is most suspicious." " Press the restoration of the grand-duke 
in Tuscany," wrote Castlereagh to Bentinck; " this is the trae 
touchstone of Murat's intentions. We must not suffer him to 
carry out his plan of extended dominion; but neither must 
we break with him and so abandon Austria to his augmented 
intrigues." 

Meanwhile, Murat had formally broken with Napoleon, and 
on the z6th c^ January the French envoy quitted Naples. But 
the treason by which be hoped to save his throne was to make 
its loss inevitable. He had betrayed Napoleon, only to be made 
the cat's-paw of the Allies. Great Britain, even when con* 
descending to negotiate with him, had never recognized his 
title; she could afford to humour Austria by holding out hopes of 
ultimate recogjhition, in order to detach him from Napoleon; for 
Austria alone of the Allies was committed to him, and Castle- 
reagh well knew that, when occasion should arise, her obliga- 
tions wquld not be suffered to hamper her Interests. With the 
downfall of Napoleon Murat's defection had served its turn; 
moreover, his equivocal conduct during the campaign in Italy' 
had blunted the edge of whatever gratitude the powers may 
have been disposed to feel; his ambition to unite all Italy south 
of the Po under his crown was manifest, and the statesmen 
responsible for the re-establishment of European order were 
little likely to do violence to their legitimist principles in order 
to maintain on his tlirone a revolutionary sovereign who was 
proving himself so potent a centre of national unrest. 

At the very opening of the congress of Vienna Talleyrand, 
with astounding effrontery, affeaed not to know " the man " 

* He had contributed to the defeats of the viceroy Prince Eugene 
in Januanr and February 1814, but did not show any eagerness to 
press his victories to the advantase of the Allies, ronffnting himself 
with occupying the principality olBeoevento. 



MURAT 



29 



«iM> had been casoaDy refened to. as " the Ung of Naples "; 
sad he made it the prime object of his pc^cy in tlie weeks thftt 
followed to secure the itptidiation by the poweia of Mont's 
title, and the lestontion of the Bourbon king. The powers, 
indeed, were Yoy ready to accept at least the principle of this 
polky. " Great Britain," wrote Castlereagh to Lord Liverpool 
en the s*^ of September from Geneva, " has no objection^ but 
the reverse, to the restoration of the Bourbons in Naples."^ 
PrxBsia saw in Murat the protector of the malcontents in Italy.' 
Alexander L of Russa had no sympathy for any champioa of 
LiberaJism in Italy save himself. Austria confessed "sub 
BpUo " that she shared " His Most Christian Majesty's views 
as to the rcstoiation of andent dynasties."* The main difficul- 
ties in the way were Austria's treaty obligations and the means 
Igr which tht desired result was to be obtained. 

Talleyxand knew well that Austria, in the loog fun, would 
break faith with Murat and prefer a docile Bourbon on the throne 
of Naples to this incalculable child of the Revolution; but he 
had hb private reasons for desiring to " score off " Mettemich, 
the continuance of whose quasadiplomatic Kaisom with Caroline 
Motat he ri^tly suspected.. He proposed boldty that, since 
Austria, in view of the treaty of Jan. xi, 1814, was naturally 
rductant to undertake the task, the restored Bourbon king 
of France should be empowered to restore the Bourbon king of 
Naples by French arms, thus reviving once more the andent 
Habsborg-Bourbon rivalry for dominion in Italy.* 

Mettemidi, with characteristic skHl, took advantage of this 
sstoation at once to checkmate France and to diaonbarrass 
Anstria of its obligations to MuraL While secretly assuring 
Louis XVin., through his confidant Blacas, that Austria was 
in favour of a Bourbon restoration in Naples, he formally 
intimated to Talleyrand that a French invasion of Italian soil 
woold mean war with Austria.* To Murat, who had appealed 
to the treaty of 18x4, and demanded a passage northward for 
the troops destined to oppose those of Louis XVIII., he explained 
that Aostria, by her ultimatum to France, had already done all 
that was necessary, that any movement of the Neapolitan 
troops oataide Naples would be a useless breach of the peace 
of ItaJy, and that it would be regarded as an attack on Austria 
and n rupture of the alliance. Murat's sospidons of Austrian 
sincerity were now confirmed;* he realized that there was no 
f^estkm now of his obtaining any extension of territory at the 
expense of the states of the Church, and that in the Italy as 
lecoostmcted at Vienna his own position would be intolerable. 
Thns the very motives which had led him to betray Napoleon 
now led him to break with Austria. He would secure his throne 
by pnxlaiming the cause of united Italy, chasing the Austrians 



s FJCk Vienna Conmts. viL 

*Mcm. of Uaxdenbeig, F.O. COng. Pniaau Ardi. sa Aug. 14- 

Jane IS 

•Mcccenach to Bombeflea. Jan. 13, iStSi encloaod in Caatle- 
naoj^ to Liverpoot of Jan. 3S ' 'O. Congr. Vieana, xL 

*SQrel, viii 411 aeq. 

* Cf. a *' most aeciec " coomiunication to be made to M. de Blacas 
Oa Mctteraich to Bombdles, Vienna. Jan. 13, 1815). Muiat's 
 ^f " f atritude, and the unrest in Italv, are largely due to the 
tfivsBteniag attitude of France. ... H.I.M. is not prepared to 
a rising of Italy under " the natk>nal flag." How will France 
: Naples? By sending an army iqto Italy acroos our states, 
wooSd thus become mfected with revolutionaiy views? .... 
The eaip cr o r ooold not allow such an expedition. When Italy is 
KCtied — and we will not allow Murat to keep the Marches . . . 
he w31 lose p r estSg e | and then . . . will be the time for Austria to 
eve effect to the views iriiich. all the time, she shares with His 
Mbst Christtan Maiesty." (In Castleresgh to Liverpool, " private," 
Jan. 25, 1815. F.O. Vienna Congr. xL) 

*TI«t th^ were fully justified is dear from the following ex- 
tnct from a letter of Mettemich to Bombelles at Paris (dated 
Vteaaa, Jan. 13, 18x3). *' Whether Joachim or a Bourbon reigns 
at Maides is for s« a very subordinate question. . . . When Europe 
h estaUisbed on solid foundations the fate of Joachim wHl no longer 
be jiiif Ji niif hul. but do not let us risk destroying Austria and 
Ftaaoe and Europe, in order to solve this question at- the worrt 
suannt it would be put on the tapis, . . . This u no business of 
tibe CoineBS. but tti us Bomrbam Pcwerr declan that they maifUain 
ftnr dsMU.** (In Castlereagh's private letter to Lord Uverpool. 
Jan. rs. 18x5, F.O. Vienna Conpr. xi) 



from the peninsula, and fstahlishfng himself as a national 
king. 

To contemporary observers in the best position to judge 
the enterprise seemed by no mesns hopeless. Lord William 
Bentinck, the commander of the English forces in Italy, wrote 
to C^tleresgh ' that, ** having seen more of Italy," he doubted 
wlwther the whole force of Austria would be able to txpd Murat ; 
" he has said dearly that he will raise the whole of Italy; and 
there is not a doubt that undergo standard of Italian indepen- 
dence the whole of Italy will rally." This feeling, continued 
Bentinck, was due to the foolish and illiberal conduct of the 
restored sovereigns; the inhabitants of the states occupied by 
the Austrian troops were " discontented to a man "; even in Tus- 
cany " the same feeling and desire " tmiversally prevailed. AH 
the provinces, moreover, were full of unemplc^ed officers and 
soldkrs who, in q>ite of Murat's treason, would rally to his 
standard, especially as he would certainly first put hisuelf into 
communication wiUi Napoleon in Elba; while, so far as Bentinck 
could hear of the disposition of the FWnch army, it would be 
" dangerous to assemble it anywhere or for any purpose." The 
urgency of the danger was, then, fully realized by the powers 
even before Napoleon's return fsom Elba; for they were well 
aware of Murat's correspondence with him. On the first news 
of Napoleon's landing in France, the British government wrote 
to Wellington* that this event together with " the proob of 
Murat's treachery " had removed " all remaining scruples " on 
their part, and that they were ik>w " prepared to enter into a 
concert for his removal," adding that Murat should, in the event 
of his resigning peaceably, recdve " a pension and all considera- 
tion." The rapki triumph of Napoleon, however, altered this 
tone. " BonajMUte's successes have altered the situation," wrote 
Castlereagh to Wellington on the 94th, adding that Great Britain 
would enter into a treaty with Murat, if he would give guarantees 
" by a certain redistribution of his forces" and the like, and 
that in spite of Napoleon's success he would be " true to Europe." 
In a private letter endosed Castlereagh suggested that Murat 
might send an auxiliary force to France, where " his personal 
presence would be unseemly."* 

Qearly, had King Joachim played Us cards well be had the' 
game in his hands. But it was not in his nature to play them 
well. He should have made the most of the chastened temper 
of the Allies, dther to secure favourable terms from them, or 
to hold them in play until Napoleon was ready to take the fidd. 
But his head had been turned by the flatteries of the " patriots "; 
he bdieved that aU Italy would rally to his cause, and that alone 
he would be able to drive the " (Sermans " over the Alps, and 
thus, as king of united Italy, be in a position to treat on equal 
terms with Napoleon, should he prove victorious; and he 
determined to strike without delay. On the a3rd the news 
reached Mettemich at Vienna that the Neapolitan troops were 
on the march to the frontier. The Allies at once dedded to 
commission Austria to deal with Murat; in the event of whose 
ddeat, Ferdinand IV. was to be restored to Naples, on promising 
a general amnesty and giving guarantees for a "xtasonable" 
system of government.** 

Meanwhile, in Naples itself there were signs enough that 
Murat's pc^ularity had disappeared. In (Calabria the indiscrimi- 
nate severity of (Seneral Manhis in suppressing brigandage had 
made the government hated; in the capital the general dis- 
affection had led to rigorous policing, while conscripts had to 
be dragged in chains to join their regiments." In these circum- 
stances an outburst of national endbusiasm for King Joachim 
wss hardly to be expected; and the campaign in effect proved a 
complete fiasco. Rome and Bologna were, indeed, occupied with- 
out serious opposition; but on the xath of April Murat's forces 
received a check from the advancing Austrians at Ferrara and 
on the and of May were oompletdy routed at Tolentino. The 

* Letter dated Florence, Jan. 7. 18x5. F.O. Vienna Conor. xL 

• F.O. Vienna Congr. xiu. Draft to Wellington dated Mardi la. 



* F.O. Vienna Congr. xiL 
I* Ibid. Wellington to Ca^t! 
" F.O. Cong. xL; Munster to 



:h, Vienna, March as. 

;h, Naples, Jan. 29. 



30 



MURATORI 



AustiUns advanced on Naples, when Fetdinand IV. was duly 
restored, while Queen Caroline and her children were deported to 
Trieste. 

Murat himself escaped to France, where his offer of service 
was contemptuously refused by NapoleOn. He hid for a 
while near Toulon, with a price upon his head; then, after 
Waterloo, refusing an asylum in England, he set out for Corsica 
(August). Here he was joined by a few rash spirits who urged 
him to attempt to recover his kingdom. Though Mettemich 
offered to aUow him to join his wife at Trieste and to secure 
him a dignified position and a pension, he preferred to risk 
aU on a final throw for power. On the 28th of September he 
sailed for Calabria with a flotilla of six vessels carrying some 
a$o armed men. Four of his ships were scattered by a storm; 
ofle deserted him at the last moment, and on the 8th of October 
he landed at Pizzo with only 30 companions. Of the popular 
enthusiasm for his cause which he had been led to expect there 
was less than no sign, and after a short and uneqiial contest he 
was taken prisoner by a captain named Trenta-Capilli, whose 
brother had been executed by General Manhes. He was im- 
prisoned in the fort of Pizzo, and on the 13th of October 18x5 
was tried by court-martial, under a law of his own, for disturbing 
the public peace, and was sentenced to be shot in half an hour. 
After writing a touching letter of farewell to his wife and children, 
he bravely met his- fate, and was buried at Pizzo. 

Though much good may be said of Murat as a king sincerely 
anxious for the welfare of his adopted country, his most abiding 
title to fame is that of the most dashing cavalxy leader of the 
age. As a man he was rash, hot-tempered and impetuously 
bcave; he was adored by hii troopers who followed their 
idol, tiie " golden eagle," into the most terrible fire and against 
the most terrible odds. Napoleon lived to regret his refusal 
to accept his services during the Hundred Days, dedaring that 
Murat's presence at Waterloo would have given more con- 
centrated power to the cavalry charges and mi^t possibly have 
changed defeat into victory. 

By his wife Maria AnnundaU Carolina Murat had two sons. 
The elder, Napoleon Achille Murat (Z801-Z847), during his 
father's reign prince royal of the Two Sicilies, emigrated about 
x8az to America, and settled near Tallahassee, Florida, where 
in 1826-1838 he was postmaster. In 1836 he married a 
great-niece of Washington. He published Lettres d*un citoyen 
des ^tatS'Unis dunde ses amis d* Europe (Paris, 1830); Es'quisse 
morale et politiqve des £tats-Unis (ibid. x83a); and Exposition des 
prindpes du gouvernemerU ripuUicain td qu'il a iU perfeaionni en 
Amirique (ibid. 1833). He died in Florida on the 15th of April 

1847. 
The second son. Napoleon Luoen Charles Mxtrat (1803- 

1878), who was created prince of Ponte Corvo in 18x3, lived 
with his mother in Austria after 18x5, and in 1824 started to 
join his brother in America, but was shipwrecked on the a>ast 
of Spain and held for a while a prisoner. Arriving in X825, 
two years later he married in Baltimore a rich American, 
Georgina Frazer (d. X879); but her fortune was lost, and for 
some years his wife supported herself and him by keeping a 
girls' school After several abortive attempts to return to 
France, the revolution of 1848 at last gave him his opportunity. 
He was elected a member of the Constituent Assembly and of 
the Legislative Assembly (1849), was minister plenipotentiary 
at Turin from October 1849 to March x8so, and after the coup 
d*itat of the and of December X85X was made a member of the 
consultative commission. On the proclamation of the Empire, 
he was recognized by Napoleon HI. as a prince of the blood royal, 
with the title of Prince Murat, and, in addition to the payment 
of a,ooo,ooo fr. of debts, was given an income of x 50,000 fr. 
As a member of the Senate he distinguished himself in x86x 
by supporting the temporal power of the pope, but otherwise 
he played no conspicuous part. The fall of the Empire in Sep- 
tember 1870 involved his retirement into private Ufe. He died 
on the xoth of April 1878, leaving three sons and two daughters, 
(x) Joachim, Prince Murat (1834-X90X), in 1854 married Maley 
Berthier, daughter of the Prince de Wagram, who bore him a 



son, Joachim (b. 1856), who succeeded him as head of the family, 

and two daughters, of whom the younger, Anna (b. 1863), 

became the wife >of the Austrian minister Count Goluchowski. 

(a) Achille (X847-X895), married Princess Dadian of Mingrelia. 

(3) Louis (b. Z85X), married in 1873 to the widowed Princess 

Eudoxia Orbeliani (nie Somov), was for a time orderly officer 

to Charles XV. of Sweden. (4) Caroline (b. X832), married in 

Z850 Baron Charles de Chassiron and in X872 Mr John Garden 

(d. 1885). (5) Anna (b. 1841), married in 1865 Antoine de 

Noailles, due de Mouchy. 

AcTHOKiTiBS.— See A. Sorel, VEurope et la r^vdutum fmngaise 
(8 vols., 188^-1802) passim, but especially vol. viii. for Murat's 
policy after the 1812; Helfert, Joachim Murat, seine letxten K&mpfe 
und sein Ende (Vienna, 1878); G. Romano, Ricordi muratiani 



(Pavia, 1800); Ccrrespondance de Joachim Murat, JuiUet ijgi" 

1808, cd A. Lumbro0D (Milan, xSoo' 
lieutenant de Fempereur en Espagne U^ru, 



JuiOel 



A. Lumbro0D (Milan, X899); Count Murat, Murat, 
empereur en Espagne (Paris, 1807); Guardione, 
Gioacchino Murat %n Italic (Palermo, 1890); M. H. Weil, Pritue 
Eugtne et Murat (5 vols., Paris, X901-1904) ; Chavcnon and Saint- 
Yves, Joachim Mitrat (Paris, 1905); Lurabroso, L'Ajonia di un 
rerno; Cioauhino Murat al Pizao (Milan, X904). See also the 
biBliography to Napoleon I. (W. A. P.) 

MURATORI. LUDOVICO AMTONIO (X672-X7S0), Italian 
scholar, historian and antiquary, was bom of poor parents at 
Vignola in the duchy of Modena on the axst of October x67a. 
While young he attracted the attention of Father Bacchini, 
the librarian oi the duke of Modena, by whom his literary tastes 
were turned toward historical and antiquarian research. Having 
taken minor orders in x688, Muratori proceeded to his degree 
of doctor ill utroquejureh^on X694, was ordained priest in X69S 
and appointed by Count Carlo Borromeo one of the doctors 
of the Ambroslan library at Milan. From manuscripts now 
placed under his charge he made a selection of materials for 
several volumes {Anecdota), which he published with notes. 
The reputation he acquired was such that the duke of Modena 
offered him the situation of keeper of the public archives of the 
duchy. Muratori hesitated, until the offer of the additional 
post of librarian, on the resignation of Father Bacchini, deter- 
mined him in X700 to return to Modena. The preparation of 
numerous valuable tracts on the history of Italy during the middle 
ages, and of dissertations and discussions on obscure points 
of historical and antiquarian interest, as well as the publication 
of his various philosophical, theological, legal, poetical and 
other works absorbed the greater part of his time. These' 
brought him into communication with the most distinguished 
scholars of Italy, France and Germany. But they also exposed 
him in his later years to envy. His enemies spread abroad 
the rumour that the pope, Benedict XIV., had discovered in his 
writings parages savouring of heresy, even of atheism. Muratori 
appealed to the pope, repudiating the accusation. His Holiness 
assured him of Ids protection^ and, without expressing his 
approbation of the opinions in question of the learned antiquary, 
freed him from the imputations of his enemies. Muratori 
died on the 23rd of January 17 50, and was buried with much 
pomp in the cbiurch of Santa Maria di Pomposa, in connexion 
with which he had laboured as parish priest for many years. 
His remains were removed in 1774 to the church of St Augustin. 

Muratori is rightly regarded as the " father of Italian history." 
This is due to his great collection, Rerum italicarum scripUtres, 
to which he devoted about fifteen years* work (X723-X738). 
The gathering together and editing some 25 huge folio 
volumes of texts was followed by a series of 75 dissertations 
on medievsLl Italy {Antiquitata italicae medii am, X738-X74a, 6 
vols, folio). To these he added a Novus thesaurus inscriptionum 
(4 vols., X739~x 743), which was of great importance in the develop- 
ment of epigraphy. Then, anticipating the action of the learned 
societies of the xoth century, he set about a popular treatment 
of the historical sources he had published. These Annali 
d*Italia (1744-X749) reached xa volumes, but were imperfect and 
are of little value. In addition to this national enterprise 
(the Scriptores were published by the aid of the Sodeti palatina 
of Milan) Muratori published Anecdota ex ambrosianae biblith- 
thecaecodd. (a vols. 4to, Milan, 1697, X698; Padua, X7X3); 
Anecdota graeca (3 vols. 4to, Padua, 1709); Aniichita Estcsts 



MURAVIEV— MURCHISON 



31 



(» vols. foL, Modena, 17 17); V*^ ^ rimedi P. Fdrvca (17x1), 
and Vite ti oferedi L. Castdtetro (1727). 

la biblical scbolanhip Muntori a chiefly known at the ois- 
covocr of the eoncalled Muratorian Canon, the name given t6 a 
bagment (85 fines) of eariy Chiistian literature, which he founJ 
in 1740, embedded in an Sth^entory codes which forms a 
a»mpendiiim of theoIogicBl tracts followed by the five early 
Ouistian creeds. The document rontstnft a list of the books of 
the New Testament, a fimilar list concerning the Old Testament 
having apparently preceded it. It is in barbarous Latin which 
has probably been translated from origimd Greek — the language 
prevailing in Christian Rome until c. aoo. There is little doubt 
that it was ccmiposed in Rome and we may date it about the 
year 190. Li^tifoot indined to Hippolytus as its author. It 
b the earliest document known whidi enumerates the books in 



The first line of the fragment is broken and speaks of the 
Gospd of St Mark, but there is no doubt that its compiler 
knew also of St Matthew. Acts is ascribed to St Luke. He 
names thirteen letten of St Paul but says nothing of the Epistle 
to the Hebrews. The alleged letters of Paul to the Laodiceans 
and .Mezandrians he rejects, '* for gall must not be mixed with 
booey." The two Epbtles of Peter and the Epistle of James 
air not referred to, but that of Jude and two of John are accepted. 
He includes the Apocaljrpse of John and also the Apocalypse 
of Peter. The Shepherd of Hermas he rqects as not of apostolic 
origin, but this test of canonidty is not consistently applied 
for he allows the " Wisdom written by the friends of Solomon in 
fab honour." He rejects the writing of th« Gnostics Valentinus 
and Basilides, and of Montanus. 

The list b not an authoritative decree, but a private regbter 
of what the author considers the prevailing Chrbtian sentiment 
in fab nei^bourhood. He notes certain differences among 
the Gospels, because not all the evangelbts were eye-witnesses 
of the life of Jesus; yet Mark and Luke respectively have behind 
than the authority of Peter and of Paul, who b thus regarded 
as 00 a footing with the Twelve. The Fourth Gospel was 
written by John at the rectucst of the other apostles and the 
btsfaops on the basb of a revelation made to Andrew. The 
tetters of Paul are written to four individuab and to seven 
dif erent churches, like the seven letters in the Apocalypse of 
John. 

It b interesting to notice the cofaiddence of hb Ibt with the 
evidence gained from Tcrtullian for* Africa and firoip Irenaeus 
for Gaul and indirectly for Asia Minor. Before the year soo 
there was widc^wead agreement in the sacred body of apostolic 
writings read in Chrbtian churches on the Lord's Da/ along with 
theOld Testament 

Mnratori** Letters, with a Lift prefixed, were published by Laezan, 
(1 vob, Venice, 1783). Hu n«>hew, F. G. Muratori, also wrote 
a Vita del cdOre Ludoo, AnL Muratori (Venice, 17S6). See also 



A.G.SaindU** BtbliographbdcIlelettereesUmpadtL. A. Muratori " 
in BeUMlimo ddP instUuio storieo italiano (1888), and Carducci's 
melace to the sew Scrifiores, The Muratorian Canon b sjven 
la faO with a transbtion in H. M. Gwatkin's Sdections from Early 
Ckriaian Writers, It b abo pobliahcd as No. r of H. Lietrmann • 
Zlenr Texte fUr theeloriscke VoriesuHgen (Bonn, 1902). See abo 
Jovual of Theologkal Studies, viil. 537. 

MURAVnnr, HICHAEL VIKOLAIVVICH, Count (r84S-i90o), 
RnsBian statesman, was bom on the xgth of April 1845. He 
was the son of General Count Nicholas Muraviev (governor of 
Grodno), and grandson of the Count Michael Muraviev, who 
beosme notorious for hb drastic measures in stamping out the 
PoGsh insorrection of 1863 in the Lithuanian provinces. He was 
edocsted at a secondary school at Poltava, and was for a short 
time at Heiddbexg University. In 1864 he entered the chancel- 
lery of the minister for foreign affairs at St PetersburK, and was 
soon afterwards attached to the Russian legation at Stuttgart, 
where be attracted the notice of Queen 01^ of Wttrttemberg. 
He was transferred to Berlin, then to Stockholm, and back 
a^ain to Berlin. In 1877 he was second secretary at the Hague. 
During the Russo-Turkbh War of 1878 he was a delegate of the 
Red Croas Sodety In charge of an ambulance train provided 



by Qoeen (Hga of Wttrttemberg. After the war he was succes> 
sively first secretary at Parb, chancellor of the embassy at Berlin, 
and then minbter at Copenhagen. In Denmark he was brought 
much mto contact with the imperial family, and on the death of 
Prince Lob&nov in 1897 he was appointed by the T^nr Nicholas II. 
to be hb minbter of foreign affairs. The next three and a half 
years were a critical time for European dipbmacy. The Chinese 
and Cretan questions were dbturbing factors. As regards Crete, 
Count Muraviev's policy wss vadUating; in China hb hands were 
forced by Germany's action at Kiaochow. But he acted with 
singular Ugtrdi with regard at all events to hb assurances to 
Great Britain respecting the leases of Port Arthur and Talienwan 
from China; he told the British ambawsdor that these would 
be "open ports," and afterwards essentially modified tfab 
pledge. MThen the Tsar Nicholas inaugurated the Peace Con- 
ference at the Hague, Count Muraviev extricated hb country 
from a situation of some embarrassment ; but when, subsequently, 
Russian agents in Manchuria and at Peking connived at the 
agitation which culminated in the Boxer rising of 1900, the 
rdations of the responsible foreign minbter with the tsar became 
strained. Muraviev died suddenly on the sxst ci June 1900, 
of apoplexy, brought on, it was said, by a stormy interview 
with the tsar. 

■URGHISOlf. 8IR RODERICK IMPET (i79a-x87x)t Britbh 
geologist, was bom at Tanadale, in eastern Ross, Scotland, on 
the 19th of February 1793. Bis father, Kenneth Murchison 
(d. 1796), came of an old Highland clan in west Ross^hire, and 
having beien educated as a medical man, acquired a fortune in 
India; iriiile still in the prime of life he returned to Scotland, 
where, marrying one of the Mackenzies of Fairbum, he purchased 
the estate of Tarradale and settled for a few years as a resident 
Highland landlord. Young Murchison left the Highlands when 
three years cJd, and at the age of seven was sent to the grammar 
school of Durham, where he remained for six years. He was then 
placed at the military college. Great Marlow, to be trained for 
the army. With some difficulty he passed the examinations, 
and at the age of fifteen wss gaxetted ensign in the 36th regiment. 
A year later (x8o8) he landed with Welloley in Galida, and was 
present at the actions of Rorica and Vimiera. Subsequently 
under Sir John Moore he took part in the retreat to C^runna 
and .the final battle there. Thb was hb only active service. 
The defeat of Napoleon at Waterloo seeming to dose the prospect 
of advancement in the military profession, Murchison, after 
eight years of service, quitted the army, and married the daughter 
of General Hugonin, of Nursted House, Hampshire. With her 
he then spept rather more than two 3rears on the Continent, 
particularly in Italy, where her cultivated tastes were of signal 
influence in guiding hb pursuits. He threw himself with all the 
enthusiasm of hb character into the study of art and antiquities, 
and for the first time in hb life tasted the pleasures of truly 
intellectual pursuits. 

Returning to England in x8x8, he soia ms paternal property 
in Rosa^hire and settled in En^and, where he took to fidd 
sports. He soon became one of the greatest fox-himters in the 
midland counties; but at last, getting weary of such pursuits and 
meeting Sir Humphry Davy, who urged him to turn hb energy 
to sdence, he was induced to attend lectures at the Royal 
Institution. Thb change in the current of hb occupations 
was much hdped by the sympathy of hb wife, who, besides her 
artbtic acquirements, took much interest in natural hbtory. 
Eager and enthusiastic in whatever he undertook, he was fasci- 
nated by the young sdence of geology. He joined the Geological 
Sodety of London and soon showed himself one of its most 
active members, having as hb colleagues there such moi as 
Sedgwick, W. D. Conybeare, W. Buckland, W. H. Fitton and 
Lyell. Exploring with hb wife the geology of the south of 
England, he devoted spedal attention to the rocks of the north- 
west of Sussex and the adjoining parts of Hants and Surrey, on 
which, aided by Fitton, he wrote hb first sdentific paper, read 
to the sodety in 1825. Though he had reached the age of thirty- 
two before he took any interest in sdence, he devdoped his 
taste and increased hb knowledge so rapidly that in the first 



32 



MURCIA 



three yean of his scientific career he had explored large parts 
of En^pUmd and Scotland, had obtained materials for three 
important memoirs, as well as for two more written in conjunction 
with Sedgwick, and had risen to be a prominent member of the 
Geological Society and one of its two secretaries. Turning his 
attention for a little to Continental geology, he explored with 
Lyell the volcanic region of Auvergne, parts of southern France, 
northern Italy, Tirol and Switzerland. A little later, with 
Sedgwick as his companion, he attacked the difficult problem 
of the geological structure of the Alps, and their joint paper 
giving the results of their study will always be regarded as one of 
the classics in the h'terature of Alpine geology. 

It was in the year 1831 that Murchison found the field in which 
the chief work of his life was to be accomplished. Acting on 
a suggestion made to him by Buckland he betook himself to 
the borders of Wales, with the view of endeavouring to discover 
whether the greywacke rocks underlying the Old Ktd Sandstone 
could be grouped into a definite order of succession, as the 
Secondary rocks of England had been made to tell their story by 
William Smith. For several years he continued to work vigor- 
ously in that region. The result was the establishment of the 
Silurian system— under which were grouped for the first time a 
remarkable series of formations, each replete with distinctive 
organic remains older than and very different from those of 
the other rocks of England. These researches, together with 
descriptions of the coal-fields and overlying formations in south 
Wales and the English border counties, were embodied in Tke 
Silurian System (London, 1839), a massive quarto in two parts, 
admirably illustrated with map, sections, pictorial views and 
plates of fossils. The full import of his discoveries was not at 
first perceived; but as years passed on the types of exi&lcnce 
brought to light by him from the rocks of the border counties 
of England and Wales were ascertained to belong to a geological 
period of which there are recognizable traces in almost all parts 
of the globe. Thus the term " Silurian," derived from the 
name of the old British tribe Silures, soon passed into the 
vocabulary of geologists in every country. 

The estabMmient of the Silurian system was followed by 
that of the Devonian system, an investigation in which, aided 
by the palaeontological assistance of W. Lonsdale, Sedgwick 
and Murchison weres fellow-labourers, both in the south-west 
of England and in the Rhineland. Soon afterwards Murchison 
projected an important geological campaign in Russia with the 
view of extending to that part of the Continent the classification 
he had succeeded in elaborating for the older rocks of western 
Europe. He was accompanied by P. E. P. de Vemeuil (1805- 
1873) and Count A. F. M. L. A. von Keyserling (x8x 5-1891), in 
conjimction with whom he produced a magnificent work on 
Russia and the Ural Mountains. The publication of this mono- 
graph in 1845 completes the first and most active half of Murchi- 
son's scientific career. In 1846 he was knighted, and in the 
same year he presided over the meeting of the British Association 
at Southampton. During the later years of his life a large part 
of his time was devoted to the affairs of the Royal Geographical 
Society, of which he was in 1830 one of the founders, and he was 
president 1843-1845, 1851-1853, 1856-1859 and 1862-1871. So 
constant and active were his exertions on behalf of geographical 
exploration that to a large section of the contemporary public he 
was known rather as a geographer than a geologist. He particu- 
larly identified himself with the fortunes of David Livingstone 
in Africa, and did much to raise and keep alive the sympathy 
of his fellow-countrymen in the fate of that great explorer. 

The chief geological investigation of the last decade of his life 
was devoted to the Highlands of Scotland, where he believed 
be had succeeded in showing that the vast masses of qystalline 
schists, previously supposed to be part of what used to be termed 
the Primitive formations, were really not older than the Silurian 
period, for that underneath them lay beds of limestone and 
quartzite containing Lower Silurian (Cambrian) fossils. Subse- 
quent research, however, has shown that thb infraposition of 
the fossiliferous rocks is not their original place, but has been 
brought about by a gigantic system of dislocations, whereby 



successive masses of the oldest gneisses have been torn up from 
below and thrust bodily over the younger formations. 
. In 1855 Murchison was appointed director-genwal of the 
geobgicrl survey and director of the Royal School of Mines and 
the Museum of Practical Geology in Jermyn Street, London, in 
succession to Sir Henry De la Beche, who had been the first to 
hold these offices. Official routine now occupied mudi of his 
tmie, but he found q|>portunity for the Highland researches 
just alluded to, and also for preparing successive editions of his 
work Siluria (1854, ed. 5, 1872), which was meant to present 
the main features of the original Silurian System together with 
a digest of subsequent discoveries, particularly of thoM which 
showed the extension of the Silurian classification into other 
countries. His official position gave him further opportunity 
for the exercise of those social functions for which he had always 
been distinguished, and which a considerable fortune inherited 
from near relatives on his mother's side enabled him to di^lay 
on a greater scale. His house in Belgrave Square was one of the 
great centres where science, art, literature, politics and social 
eminence were brought together In friendly intercourse. In' 
1863 he was made a K.C.B., and three years later was raised 
to the dignity of a baronet. The learned societies of his own 
country bestowed their highest rewards upon him: the Royal 
Sodety gave him the Copley medal, the Gedogical Society its 
Wollaston medal, and the Royal Society of Edinburgh its 
Brisbane medal. There was hardly a foreign scientific society 
of note which had not his name enrolled among jta honorary 
members. The French Academy of Sciences awarded him the 
prix Cuvier, and elected him one of its eight foreign members in 
succession to Faraday 

One of the closing public acts of Muichison's life was the 
founding of a chair of geology and mineralogy in the university 
of Edinburgh, for iiiiidi he gave the sum of £6000, an aimud 
sum of £300 being likewise provided by a vote in parliament for 
the endowment of the professorship. While the negotiations 
with the (k»vemment in regard to this subject were still in 
progress, Murchison was seized with a paralytic affection on 
3ist of November x87a He rallied and was able to take 
interest in current affairs until the early autumn of the follow- 
ing year. After a brief attack of bronchitis he died on the 
sand of October 1871. Under his will there was established 
the Murchison Medal and geological fund to be awarded 
annually by the council of the Geological Sodety in London. 

See the Life iff Sir Roderick L Murdnsm, by Sir A. Geikie (2 vols.. 
X875). (A. Gb.) 

MURCIA. a maritime province of south*easteni Spain, bounded 

on the E. by Alicante, S.E. and S. by the Mediterranean Sea, W. 

by Almcrfa and Granada and N. by Albacete. Pop. (1900), 

577>9S7; Area, 4453 sq. m. The extent of o>ast is about 75 in.; 

from (iape Palos westwards to Villaricos Point (idiere Almerfa 

begins) it is fringed by hills reaching their greatest devation 

immediately east of Cartagena; northwards from Cape Palos 

to the Alicante boundary a low sandy tongue endoscs the 

shallow lagoon called Mar Menor. Eastward from the Mar 

Menor and northward from Cartagena stretches the plain known 

as El Campo de Cartagena, but the surface of the rest of the 

province is diversified by ranges of hills, bdonging to the same 

system as the Sierra Nevada, which coxmect the mountains of 

Almeria and Granada with those of Alicante. The general 

direction of these ranges is from south-west to north-east; they 

reach thdr highest point (5x50 ft.*) on the Sierra de Espuf&a, 

between the Mula and Sangonera vaUeys. They are rich m 

iron, copper, argentiferous lead, alum, sulphur, and saltpetre. 

Mineral springs occur at Mula^ Archena (hot sulphur), and 

Alhama (hot chalybeate). The greater part of the province 

drains into the Mediterranean, chiefly by the Segura, which 

enters it in the north-west bdow Hellin in Albacete, and leaves 

it a little abdve Orihuela in Alicante; within the province it 

receives on the Idt the Arroyo dd Jua, and on the right the 

Caravaca, (^ipar, Mula, and Sangonera. The smaller streams 

of Nogalte and Albujon fall directly into the Mediterranean and 

the Mar Menor respectively. . The climate is hot and dry, and 



MURCiA— murdck:k 



33 



is krgdy dependent on irrigation, which, where 
pncticable, lims been carried on since the time of the Moors. 
Wheat, barley, maise, hemp, oil, and wine (the latter somewhat 
rocigfa in quality) are produced; fruit, especially the orange, is 
^Mindaat along the course of the S^gura; mulberries for seri- 
culture are extensively grown around the a^ital; and the 
number of bees kept is exceptionally large. Esparto grass is 
gathered on the sandy tracts. The Uve stock consists chiefly of 
asses, muks, goats and pigs; horses, cattle and sheep being 
rdativdy few. Apart from agriculture, the principal industry 
is zniniqi^ which has its centre near Cartagena. Large quantities 
of lead and esparto, as well as of zinc, iron and copper ores, and 
sulphur, are exported. The province is traversed by a railway 
which connects Murda with Albacete and Vahmda; from 
AlrantarilU there is a branch to Lorca and Basa. Near the 
c^Mtal and other large towns there are good roads, but the 
c»ans of communication are defective in the remoter districts. 
This deficiency has somewhat retarded the development of 
mining, and, although it has been partly overcome by the 
construction of Ught railways, many rich deposits of ore remain 
unworked. The chief towns are Murda, the capital, Cartagena, 
Lorca, La Uni6n, Mazarr6n, Yeda, Jumilla, Aguilas, Caravaca, 
Totana, Cieza, MuU, Moratalla, and Cehegfn. Other towns 
with more than 7000 inhabitants are Alhama, Bullas,- Fuente 
Alamo, Mdina and Torre Facheco. 

The province of Murda was the first Spanish possession of 
the rarthaginlans, by whom Nova Carthago was founded. The 
iUnnans induded it in Hispa.nia . Tarraconensis. Under the 
Moois the fMrovince was known ras Todmfr, which induded, 
according to Edrisi, the dlies Murda, Orihuek, Cartagena, 
Lorca, Mala and Chinchilla. The kingdom of Murda, which 
cane into independent existence after the fall of Omayyads 
(see Caupbate) induded the present Albacete as well as Murda. 
It became subject to the crown of C^tile in the xjth century. 
Un til 18 33 the province of Murda also induded Albacete. 

ITDBCXA, the capital of the Spanish province of Murda; 
<m the liver Segura, 35 m. W. of the Mediterranean Sea. Pop. 
(1900), xxi,S39> Murda is connected by rail with all parts 
of Spain, and b an important industrial centre, sixth in respect 
ci p<^u]ation among the dties of the kingdom. It has been an 
epQoopal see since 1291. It is built nearly in the centre of a 
bw-lying fertile plain, knovm as the kuerta or garden of Murda, 
which inidudcs the valleys of the Segura and its right-hand tribu- 
tary the Sangonera, and is surrounded by mountains. Despite 
the proximity of the sea, the climate is subject to great varia- 
ticffis^ the summer heat being severe, while frosts are common in 
winter* The dty is built mainly on the left bank of the Segura, 
whkh carves north-eastward after recdving the Sangonera bdow 
Murda, and falls into the Mediterranean about 30 m. N.E. A 
fine stone bridge of two arches gives access to the suburb of San 
Benito, which contains the bull-ring. As a rule the streets are 
broad, straight and planted with avenues of trees, but the 
CaBe de Platexfa and Calle de la Traperia, which contain many 
cf the prindpal shops, are more characteristically Spanish, being 
Ened with old-fashioned balconied houses, and so narrow that 
wbeded traffic is in most parts impossible. In summer these 
tbiffoaghfazes are shaded by awnings. The Malecon, or embank- 
laent, is a. fine {womenade skirting the left bank of the Segura; 
the river is here crossed by a weir and supplies power to several 
aik-miQs. The prindpal square is the Arenil or Plaza de la 
Congtituci6n, planted with orange trees and adjoining the 
dorieta Park The cathedral, dating from Z38S-X467, is, the 
vxk of many architects; in the main it is hite Cvothic, but a 
Renaissance dome and a tower 480 ft. high were added in X52X, 
while a Corinthian fa^de was erected in the z8th century. 
There axe some good paintings and fine wood-carvihg in the 
interior. Other noteworthy buildings are the colleges of San 
F(dgeQcio and San Iridzo, the bishops' palace, the hospital of 
Szn Joan de Dios, the Moorish Alhondiga, or grain warehouse, 
the bmlding^ of the mtmidpal and provincial coundk and 
the Cootraste, which » adorned with sculptured coats-of-arms, 
aad was oxig^oally designed to contain standard weights and 



measures; it has become a picture-gallery. There are two 
training schools for teachers, a provincial institute and a museum. 
Since X875 the industrial importance of Murda has steadily 
increased. Mulberries (for silkworms), oranges and other fruits 
ure laigely cultivated in the kuerta, and the silk industry, which 
dates from the period of Moorish rule, is still carried on. Manu- 
factures of woollen, linen and cotton goods, of saltpetre, flour, 
leather and hats, have been established in more modem times, 
and Murda is the chief market for the agricultural produce of 
a large district. A numerous colony of gipsies has settled in the 
west of the dty. 

Murda was an Iberian town before the Punic Wars, but its 
nkme then, and under Roman rule, is not known, though some 
have tried to identify it with the Roman Vergilia. To the Moors, 
who took possession early in the 8th century, it was known as 
Mcdinat Mursiya. Edrisi described it in the X2th century as 
populous and strongly fortified. After the fall of the caliphate 
of Cordova it passed successively under the rule of Almerfa, 
Toledo and Seville. In x z 7 2 it was taken by the Almohades, and 
from X223 to X243 it became the capital of an independent 
kingdom. The Castilians took it at the end of this period, 
when large numbers of immigrants from north-eastern Spain 
and Provence settled in the town; French and Catalan names are 
still not uncommon. Moorish princes continued to rule in name 
over this mixed population, but in X269 a rising against the 
suzerain, Alphonso the Wise, led to the final incorporation of 
Murda (whkh then induded the present province of Albacete) 
into the kingdom of Castile. During the War of the Spanish 
Succession Bishop Luis de Belluga defended the dty against 
the archducal army by flooding the kuerta. In x8xo and i8xs 
it was attacked by the French under Marshal Soult. It suffered 
much from floods in X65X, X879 and X907, though the construc- 
tion of the Malea>n has done much to keep the Segura within 
its own channel In X829 many buildings, induding the 
cathedral, were damaged by an earthquake. 

MURDER, in law, the UiUawful killbig of a person with malice 
aforethought (see HoiaciDE). The O. Eng. morVor comes ulti- 
matdy from the Indo-European root mar-, to die, which has 
also given Lat. mors, death, and all its derivatives in English, 
French and other Rom. languages; d. Gr. pporin, for fiop^^y 
mortal. The O. Eng. form. Latinized as murdrum, murtrum, 
whence Fr. meurtre, is represented in other Teutonic languages 
by a cognate form, e.g. Ger. Mord, Du. moord. 

MURDOCK, WILUAM (1754-X839), British inventor,- was 
bom near the village of Auchinleck in Ayrshire on the 21st of 
August X754. His father, John Murdoch (as the name is spelt 
in Scotland), was a millwright and miller, and William was 
brought up in the same occupation. In X777 he entered the 
employment of Boulton & Watt in the Soho works at Birming- 
ham, and about two years afterwards he was sent to Cornwall to 
superintend the fitting of Watt's engines. It is said that while 
staying at Redruth he carried a »ries of experiments in the 
distillation of coal so far that in X792 he was able to light his 
cottage and offices with gas, but the evidence is not condusive. 
However, after his retum to Birmingham about 1799, he made 
such progress in the discovery of practical methods for making, 
storing and purifying gas that in 1802 a portion of the exterior 
of the Soho factory was lighted with it in cdcbration of the peace 
of Amiens, and in the following year it was brought into use 
for the interior. Murdock was also the inventor of important 
improvements in the steam-engine. He was the first to devise 
an oscillating engine, of which he made a modd about X784; in 
X786 he was busy — somewhat to the annoyance of both Boulton 
and Watt — ^with a steam carriage or road locomotive; and in 
^799 he invented the long D slide valve. He is also believed to 
have been the real deviser of the sun and planet, motion patented 
by Watt in X 78 1. In addition his ingenuity was directed to 
the utilization of compressed air, and in X803 he constructed 
a steam gun. He retired from business in 1830, and died at Soho 
on the X5th of November X839. 

At the celebration of the centenary of ^ lightine in 1893. a bust 
of Murdock was unveiled by Lord Kelvin m the Wallace Monument. 



MURE— MURGER 



hin by Sir F. L. ClunCRy it 
buriaT Hit '* Account o( the 
ODomial Putfottt " (ppcarcd 

■UB^ IIH WILUAH (i5H-i6s7), ScotUiti writer, Mm of 

Sir William iiaie of RewiUui, vu bom in ism. His mollier 
waj Eiiiabeih, lisler of the poet Aleiaoder Moottomcrie (9,1.). 
He wu 1, member (d the Scoitiih pirliunent in i&tj, and tix^ 
part id the English campaign of 1644. He wu wounded it 
Manton Moor, but a month lata was commvidiDg ^ regiment 
ai Newcasile, He died in 1657. He wrote Didv and Anicai; 
a tran^iion (1618) of Boyd of Trochrig'i Latin Hicalamit 
Chrhliana; The True Crucifia Jw Ttut CalMikei (i6i«)i a 
pLmphrase of the Psalms; the Hislerie and Dcaent of Ute 
Hone g/ RnwaUane; A Cimratr-bu£ la Lyiimackui Ifuanat; 
TkcCry of Blond and of a Broken CotenatU {i6jo] ; beside* much 

for the'sEot'i.K t™ Socin^ (a vJ^iSgi). ^ije't LUe-Boh, 

Laini collection of MSS. ia ibe libr»iy of llie uniYcnity ol 
Ediobur^h- 

MURB. WILLUH (1799-1660), Scottish dusieal acbolu, 
was born at Cddwell, Arrshiie, on the gtb of July 1 799. He 
was educated at Wstminsier School and the univcnitiei of 
Edinburgh and Bcnn. From iSjfi Co 185J he repreaenied the 
county of Renfrew in parliament in the Ccrnservative interest, 
and HIS lord rector of Glasgow Univcnity in 1847-1848. For 

1S50-1SS7 he published five volumu ol a Crilicol Hiilory of 
Uu Laniuaie and LiUrature of AiuienJ Creece, which, though 
uncompleted and somewhat antiquated, is stiU ulefuL He died 
in London on the 1st of April iSte. 

■DHEHA, the name of a Roman plebcitui fainlly from 
Lanuvium, belonging to the Licinian gens, said to be derived 
of the family for lirapreyt (mnrentu). 






rf the family v 



defeated by Mitblidi 
his son Lucius Licinius Mutena, who was defended by Cicero 
in 6> B-C against 1 charge ol bribery (Cic. Pro Uyrtiui). The 
son wu tor several yean legate of Ludus Lidnius LucuIIus 
in the third Milbradalic War. In £5 he was praetor and made 
himself popular by the magnificence of the games provided by 
him. As idministrator of Transalpine Caul after his prlelorsbip 
he gained the goodwill of both ptovinc' ' ' *" ±   






It before 



and 



1 of bribery by Setvlus Sulpidui,aD 
luccesslul compclltor, suppoited by Marcus Foidui Caio 
younger and Scrvius Suipiciua Rulut, t, famous juibt and 
of the accuser. Muiena wu defended by Marcus Licinius 
iisus (allerwards triumvir), Quinlus Hortensiut and Cicero, 
■Ithougb it leema probable that he was guilty, 
uring his consulship be passed a Law (la Junia Lidnia) which 
[forced more strictly the provision of the Itx CaecUia Didia— 
lat laws should be promulgalcd three mindinac before they 
rre proposed to Ibecomitia, and further enacted that, in order 
I prevent forgery, a copy of every proposed statute should be 
^posited before witnesses in the aerarium. 
KnilETnS, the Latinized name of Makc Amtoihe Uubei 
Ji6-is8s). French hi " ' 



jf April 15J6. 



I eighteei 



:r Scallgn, and was invited to 
lecture in the archlepiscopa! college at Aucb. He afterwards 
taught Latin at Villeneuve, and then at Bordeaux. Some time 
before ijji he delivered a course of lectutes in the college of 
Cardinal Lemolne at Paris, which was largely attended, Henry 
IJ.andhisqueenbeiBgamoiighisbeaien. His success made him 
many enemies, and he was thrown into prison on a disgraceful 
charge, but released by the intecveation of powerful friends. 
The same accusation was brought against bim at Toulouse, and 
lie only saved his life by timely flight. The records of the town 
show thai be was burned in effigy as a Huguenot and as shame- 
fully immoral (iss4). After a waadciing and Insecure life of 



some yean la Italy, be received and accepted the intitaliaa of 

the Cardinal Ippolyle d'Esle to settle in Rome in issg. In 
1561 he revisited France as a member of the cardinal's suite 
at the conference between Roman CatholicsandProtestanobeld 
at Poisiy. He relumed to Rome in ij6j. His lectures gained 



S76 had taken holy orders, was indu 


-ed by the liberality 


Cregoiy XUI. to remain in Rome, whe 


re he died on the 4th o 


une.sSj. 




( ...nplcle edilioiu of his worii!: ..(lid 


princeps, Venina (1717- 




. Frol«:hec(,ajj-i(l40 



'i^^::^ 



):i-l 






MITRBXtDB (NH.-CJ[,NkO.,H,0), the ammonium salt of 
purpuric acid. It may be prepared by heiLing altoianiio in 
ammonia gas to 100" C, or hy boiling uramil with mercuric oiide 
(J. V. Liebig, F. WiShler, Ann., 1838, 16, jio], ZC.HiNiOi-l-O- 
NII,.C|H,NA+HiO. W. N. Hartley (Joar. Ckem. Soc.. i«o5, 
87, I7qi) found considerable difficulty In obtaining specimens 
of mureiide suSlciently pure to give concordant lesulu when 
eitamined by means of ihdr absorption spectra, and conse- 
quently devised a new method of preparation for mureiide. In 
this process allonntin is disaolved io  large eicess of boiling 
absoluie alcohol, and dry ammoniaga* is passed into the solution 
for about three hours. The solution is then filLend from Lhe 
precipitated mureiide, which is washed with absolute alcohol 

stale. It may also be prepared by digesting alioian with 
alcoholic ammonia at about 78° C; the purple solid so formed 
ii easily soluble in water, and the solution produced i> 
indistinguishable from one of mureiide. 

On the roMtitutian of mumide trr aln ( 
33J, JO): R. Moh^u {Brr.. 190,, 37, 15S61;. 
SlicglLU (Aiaer. Cktm. Jintr., 1904, 31, 661). 

■HRFSBBSBORO, a dty and the county-seat of Rutherford 
county, Tennessee, U.S.A., near the Stone River, 31 m. S.E. of 
Nashville. Pop. (1890), J739-, (moo), 3999 (1148 negroes); 
(igio),467g. It is served by the Nashville Chattanooga k Sc 
Louis railway. It is in an agricultural region where cotton is 
an important crop, and has a considerable trade in red cedar, 
hardwood, cotton, livestock and grainy it has also various 
manufactures. At Murireesboro are Soule College for girls 
(Methodist Episcopal South; i8;i), Tennessee College Cor girls 
(Baplbt, 1906), Mooney School for boys (1901), and Bradley 
Academy for negroes. Murireesboro was settled in iSii; was 
incorporated in 1817, and from iSig to iSij was the capital 
of the state. Ji waa named In honour of Colonel Hardy 
Murlree (1751-1809), a native of North Carolina, who served as 
' of North Carolina troops in the War ol Independence, 



. Piloty (/(nit, 190». 
d M. Slimmer and ]. 



I after 



About 



■ttnOBR, BBHRT (iS»-iSfii), French man ol tellers, was 

bom la Paris on the 14th of March iSii. His fsiher was > 
Cenoan concierte and a tailor. At the age of fifteen Murgcr was 
•eni into a lawyer's office, but the occupation was uncongenial 
and his father's trade still more so; and he became sccretaiy to 
Count Alciei TolsioL He published in 1843 a poem entitled 
Via ioUaoja, but !l made no mark. He alio tried journalism, 
and the paper Le Catlor, which figures In his Vii de Boktmt 
as having combined devotion 10 the interests of the hat trkde 
with recondite philosophy and elegant literature, is said to have 
eiisted. though shortlived. In 1848 appeared the calleclcd 
iktxchtt aUtd Schut dt It lie di BaUMt. This book describes 
the fortunes and misfortunes, the loves, studies, amusements 
and suSerioti of a group of impecunious students, aiUsts and 



MURGHAB— MURILLO 



35 



meo of letters, of whom Rodolphe represents Mui^ger himself, 
while the others have been more or less positively identified. 
Murger, in fact, belonged to a clique of so-called Bohemians, the 
most remarkable of whom, besides himself, were Privat d' Angle* 
moot and Champfletuy. La Vie de Bokhmtt atranged for the 
stage in coUabontioa with Theodore Barri^, was produced 
at the Vari£t£s on the ssnd of November 1849, and was a 
triumphant success; it afterwards formed the basis of Puccini's 
opera. La Bokime (1898). From this time it was easy for 
Mttrger to live by journalism and general literature. He was 
introduced in 1851 to the it«n(eies<in<«siioiMlef. But he was a 
slow, fastidious and capridous worker, and his years of hardship 
and dissipation had impaired his health. He published among 
other works Ciamde et Mariatme in 2851 ; a comedy, Le Bonkcmme 
Jadis in 1852; Le Pays LaHn in 1852; Addine Protat (one of the 
most graceful and innocent if not the most original of his tales) 
in 1853; and Les Buvews d*eau in 1855. This last, the most 
powerful of his hooka next to the Vie de Boktme, traces the fate 
of certain artists and students who, exaggerating their own 
powen and disdaining merely profitable work, come to an evil 
end not less rapidly than by dissipation. Some years before 
bis death, which took place in a maison de santi near Paris on 
the 28th of January z86i, Murger went to live at Marlotte, near 
Foatainebleau, and there he wrote an unequal book entitled 
Lt Sabci rouge (i860), in which the character of the French 
peasant is unoomplimentarily treated. 

See an article by A. de Pontmartin in the Reeme des deux momdes 
(October 1861). 

MtnOHAB. a river of Afghanistan, which flows into Russian 
territory. It rises in the Firozkhoi highlands, the northern 
Kaip of which is defined by the Band-i-Turkestan, and after 
tzavcfsing that plateau from east to west it turns north through 
deep defiks to Bala Murghab. Beyond this, in the neighbour- 
hood ai Mamchak, it fonns for a space the boundary-line between 
A^^ian and Russian Turkestan; then joining the Kushk river 
ai Pul-i-Khishti (Tash Kupri) it runs north to Mcrv, losing itself 
in the nnds of the Merv desert after a course of about 450 m., 
iu exact source being unknown. In the neighbourhood of 
Bala Murghab it is 50 jrds. broad and some 3 ft. deep, with a 
rapid current. In the lower part of its course it is flanked by 
a remarkable network of canals. The ancient city of Merv, 
which was on its banks, was the great centre of medieval Arab 
trade, and Buddhist caves are found In the scarped cliffs of its 
right bank near Panjdeh. 

MURI, a province of the British protectorate of Northern 

Nigeria. It lies approximately between 9* and zx** 40' £. and 

7* x</ and 9* 40' N. The river Benue divides it through iU 

leogth, and the portion on the southern bank of the river is 

watered by streams flowing from the Cameroon region to the 

Benue. The province is bordered S. by Southern Nigeria, 

S.E. by German territory (Cameroon), £. by the province of 

Yolo, N. by Bauchi, W. by Nassarawa and Bassa. The district 

of Katsena-Allah extends south of the Benue considerably 

west of 9* £., the approximate limit of the remainder of the 

province. Muri has an area of 25,800 sq. m. and an estimated 

popolatioa of about 828,000. The province is rich in forest 

IRodncts and the Niger Company maintains trading stations 

GB the river. Cotton is grown, and spinning thread, weaving 

and dyeing afford occupation to many thousands. The valley 

cf the Benue has a climate generally unhealthy to Europeans, 

but there are places in the northern part of the province, such 

21 the Fula settlement of Wase on a southern spur of the 

Murchtton hills, where the higher altitude gives an excellent 

climate. Muri includes the ancient Jukon empire together with 

various small Fula states and a number of pagan tribes, among 

whom the Monshi, who extend into the provinces of Nassarawa 

and Basu, are among the most turbulent. The Munshi occupy 

aboet 4000 sq. m. in the Katsena-AIlah district. The pagan 

tribes in the north of the province are lawless cannibals who by 

cKotant outrages and murders of traders long rendered the main 

trade route to Bauchi unsafe, and cut off the markets of the 

Benoe valley and the Cameroon from the Hausa states. Only 



two routes, one via Wase and the other via Gatari, pass through 
this belt. In the south of the province a similar belt of hostile 
pagans dosed the access to the Cameroon except by two routes, 
Takum and Bell. For Hausa traders to cross the Muri province 
was a work of such danger and expense that before the advent 
of British administration the attempt was seldom made. 

Muri came nominally under British control in 1900. The 
principal effort of the administration has been to control and 
open the trade routes. In 1904 an expedition against the 
northern cannibals resulted in the capture of their principal 
fortresses and the settlement and opening to trade of a large 
district, the various routes to the Benue being rendered safe. 
In 1905 an expedition against the Munshi, rendered necessary 
by an unprovoked attack on the Niger Company's station at 
Abinsi, had a good effect in reducing the riverain portion of 
this tribe to submission. The absence of any central native 
authority delayed the process of bringing the province under 
Administrative control. Its government has been organixed 
on the same system as the rest of Northern Nigeria, and is under 
a British resident. It has been divided into three administrative 
divisions— east, central and west — with their respective head- 
quarters at Lau, Amar and Ibi. Provincial and native courts 
of justice have been established. The telegraph has been 
carried to the town of MurL Muri is one of the provinces in 
which the slave trade was most active, and its position between 
German territory and the Hausa states rendered it in the early 
days of the British administration a favourite route for the 
smuggling of slaves. 

MURILLO, BART0L0H6 ESTBBAN (1617-1682), Spanish 
painter, son of Caspar Esteban Murillo and Maria Perez, was 
bom at Seville in 16x7, probably at the end of the year, as he 
was baptized on the first of January 1618. Esteban-Murillo 
appears to have been the compound surname of the father, 
but some inquirers consider that, in accordance with a frequent 
Andalusian custom, the painter assumed the surname of his 
maternal grandmother, Elvira Murillo, in addition to that of 
his father. His parents (the father an artisan of a huml^le 
class), having been struck with the sketches which the bpy 
was accustomed to make, placed him under the care of their 
distant relative, Juan del Castillo, the painter. Juan, a correct 
draughtsman and dry colourist, taught him all the mechanical 
parts of his profession with extreme care, and Murillo proved 
himself an apt pupil. The artistic appliances of his master's 
studio were not abundant, and were often of the simplest kind. 
A few casts, some stray fragments of sculpture and a lay figure 
formed the principal aids isivailable for the Sevillian student of 
art. A living model was a luxury generally beyond the means 
of the school, but on great occasions the youths would strip in 
turn and proffer an arm or a leg to be studied by their fellows. 
Objects of still life, however, were much studied by Murillo, 
and he early learnt to hit off the ragged urchins of Seville. 
Murillo in a few years painted as well as his master, and as 
stiffly. His two pictures of the Virgin, executed during this 
period, show how thoroughly he had mastered the style, with all 
its defects. Castillo was a kind man, but his removal to Cadiz 
in Z639-1640 threw his favourite pupil upon his own resources. 
The fine school of Zurbaran was too expensive for the poor 
lad; his parents were either dead or too poor to help him, and 
he was compelled to earn his bread by painting rough pictures 
for the " feria " or public fair of Seville. The religious daubs 
exposed at that mart were generally of as low an order as the 
prices paid for them. A " pintura de la feria " (a picture for 
the fair) was a proverbial expression for an execrably bad one; 
yet the street painters who thronged the market-place with 
their "clumsy saints and unripe Madonnas" not unfrequently 
rose to be able and even famous artists. This rough-and-ready 
practice, partly for the market-place, partly for converts in 
Mexico and Peru, for whom Madonnas and popular saints 
were produced and shipped off by the dozen, doubtless increa«ed 
Murillo's manual dexterity; but, if we may judge from the 
picture of the "Virgin and Child" shown in the Murillo-room at 
Seville as belonging to this period, he made little improvement 



36 



MURILLO 



in colouriDg or in general strength of design. Struck by the 
favourable change which travel had wrought upon the style 
of his brother artist Pedro de Moya, Murillo in 1642 resolved 
to make a journey to Flanders or Italy. Having bought a large 
quantity of canvas, he cut it into squares pf different sizes, which 
he converted into pictures of a kind likely to sell. Tlie American 
traders bought up his pieces, and he found himself sufficiently 
rich to carry out his design. He placed his sister, who was 
dependent on him, under the care of some friends, and without 
divulging his plans to any one set out for Madrid. On reaching 
the capital he waited on Velazquez, his fellow-townsman — then 
at the summit of his fortune — and asked for some introduc- 
tion to friends in Rome. The master liked the youth, and 
offered him lodging in his own house, and proposed to procure 
him admission to the royal galleries of the capital. Murillo 
accepted the offer, and here enjoyed the masterpieces of Italy 
and Flanders without travelling beyond the walls of Madrid. 
The next two years were chibfly spent in copying from Ribera, 
Vandyck and Velazquez; and in 1644 he so astonished the latter 
with some of his efforts that they were submitted to the king 
and the court. His patron now urged him to go to Rome, 
and offered him letters to smooth his way; but Murillo preferred 
returning to his sister and his native Seville. 

The friars of the convent of San Francesco in Seville had 
about this time determined to adorn the walls of their small 
cloister in a manner worthy of their patron saint. But the 
brotherhood had no money; and after endless begging they found 
themselves incapable of employing an artist of name to execute 
the task. Murillo was needy, and offered his services; after 
balancing their own poverty against his obscurity the friars 
bade him begin. Murillo covered the walls with eleven large 
pictures of remarkable power and beauty — displaying by turns 
the strong colouring of Ribera, the lifelike truthfulness of 
Velazquez, and the sweetness of Vandyck. Among them were 
to be found representations of San Francesco, of San Diego, of 
Santa Clara and of San Gil. These pictures were executed 
in his earliest style, commonly called his JHo or cold style. It 
was based chiefly on Ribera and Caravaggio, and was dark with 
a decided outline. This rich collection is no longer in Seville; 
Marshal Soult carried off ten of the works. The fame of th^e 
productions soon got abroad, and " £1 Claustro Chico " swarmed 
daily with artists and critics. Murillo was no longer friendless 
and unknown. The rich and the noble of Seville overwhelmed 
him with their commissions and their praises. 

In 1648 Murillo married a wealthy lady of rank, Dofia Beatriz 
dc Cabrera y Sotomayor, of the neighbourhood of Seville, and 
his house soon became the favourite resort of artists and 
connoisseurs. About this time he was associated with the land- 
scape-painter Yriarte — the two artists interchanging figures and 
landscapes for their respective works; but they did not finally 
agree, and the co-operation came to an end. Murillo now 
painted the well-known " Flight into Egypt," and shortly 
afterwards changed his earliest style of painting for his calido 
or warm style. His drawing was still well defined, but his 
outlines became softer and his figiu-es rounder, and his colouring 
gained in warmth and transparency. His first picture of this 
style, according to Cean Bermudez, was a representation of 
" Our Lady of the Conception," and was painted in 1652 for 
the brotherhood of the True Cross; he received for it 2500 reals 
(£26). In 1655 he executed his two famous paintings of " San 
Leandro " and " San Isidoro " at the order of Don Juan Federigo, 
archdeacon of Carmona, which are now in the cathedral of 
Seville. These are two noble portraits, finished with great care 
and admirable effect, but the critics complain of the figures 
being rather short. His next picture, the " Nativity of the 
Virgin," painted for the chapter, is regarded as one of the most 
delightful specimens of his calido style. In the following year 
(1656) the same body gave him an order for a vast picture of San 
Antonio dc Padua, for which he received xo,ooo reals (£104). 
This is one of his most celebrated performances, and still hangs 
in the baptistery of the cathedral. It was " repaired " in 1833; 
the grandeur of the design, however, and the singular richness 



of the colouring may still be traced. The same year saw him 
engaged on four large semicircular pictures, designed by his 
friend and patron Don Justino Neve y Yevenes, to adorn the 
walls of the church of Santa Maria la Blanca. The first two 
(now in Madrid) were meant to illustrate the history of the 
Festival of Our Lady of the Snow, or the foundation of the 
Roman basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore. The one represents 
the wealthy but childless Roman senator and his lady asleep 
and dreaming; the other exhibits the devout pair relating 
their dream to Pope Liberius. Of these two noble paintings 
the Dream is the finer, and in it is to be noticed the commence- 
ment of Murillo's third and last style, known as the vapcroso or 
vapoury. It should be noted, however, that the three styles 
are not strictly separable into date-periods; for the painter 
alternated the styles accordingly to his subject-matter or the 
mood of his inspiration, the calido being the most frequent. In 
the vaporoso method the weU-marked outlines and careful 
drawing of his former styles disappear, the outlines are lost 
in the misty blending of the light and shade, and the general 
finish betrays more haste than was usual with Murillo. After 
many changes of fortune, these two pictures now hang in the 
Academy at Madrid. The remaining pieces executed for this 
small church were a " Virgin of the Conception " and a figure of 
" Faith." Soult laid his hands on these also, and they have hot 
been recovered. 

In 1658 Murillo undertook and consummated a task which 
had hitherto baffled all the artists of Spain, and even royalty 
itself. Thb was the establishing of a public academy of art. By 
superior tact and good temper he overcame the vanity of Valdes 
Leal and the presumption of the younger Herrera, and secured 
their co-operation. The Academy of Seville was accordingly 
opened for the first time in January z66o, and Murillo and the 
second Herrera were chosen presidents. The former continued 
to direct it during the following year; but the calls of his studio 
induced him to leave it in other hands. It was then flourishing, 
but not for long. 

Passing over some half-length pictures of saints and a dark- 
haired Madonna, painted in x668 for the chapter-room of the 
cathedral of his native dty, we enter upon the most splendid 
period of Murillo's tareer. In z66i Don Migud Mafiara Vicen- 
telo de Leca, who had recently turned to a Itfe of sanctity from 
one of the wildest profligacy, resolved to raise money for the 
restoration of the dilapidated Hospital de la Caridad, of whose 
pious gild he was himself a member. Mafiara commissioned 
his friend Murillo to paint eleven pictures for this edifice of San 
Jorge. Three of these pieces represented the " Annunciation," 
the " Infant Saviour," and the " Infant St John." The remaining 
eight are considered Murillo's masterpieces. They consist of 
" Moses striking the Rock," the " Return of the Prodigal," 
" Abraham receiving the lliree Angels," the "Charity of San 
Juan de Dios," the " Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes," " Our 
Lord healing the Paralytic," " St Peter released from Prison by 
the Angel," and " St Elizabeth of Hungary." These works 
occupied the artist four years, and in 1674 he received for his 
eight great pictures 78,xi5 reals or about £800. The " Moses, '* 
the " Loaves and Fishes," the " San Juan," and the three 
subjects which we have named first, are still at Seville; the 
French carried off the rest, but the " St Elizabeth " and the 
" Prodigal Son " are now back in Spain. For compass and 
vigour the " Moses " stands first; but the " Prodigal's Return '* 
and the " St Elizabeth " were considered by Bermudez the 
most perfect of all as works of art. The front of this famous 
hospital was also indebted to the genius of Murillo; five large 
designs in blue glazed tiles were executed from his drawings. 
He had scarcely completed the undertakings for this edifice 
when his favourite Franciscans again solicited his aid. He 
accordingly executed some twenty paintings for the humble 
h'ttle church known as the Convent de los Capudnos. Seventeen 
of these Capuchin pictures are preserved in the Museum of 
Seville. Of these the ^' Charity of St Thomas of Villanueva " 
is reckoned the best. Murillo himself was wont to call it " su 
lienzo " (his own picture). Another little piece of extraordinary 



MURIMUTH— MURNER 



37 



vfaidi ODoe Irang in €da danthf b the " Viigin of the 
Napkin." bdieved to have been peinted on a " wrvilleU " and 
pRscBtcdto the cook of the Capnrhin brotherhood a» a piemorial 
of the artist's pendL 

In 1670 MiiriUo is aaid to have dfrlinfd an invitation to ooort, 
ptcferring to labour among the brown coats of Seville. Eight 
years afterwards his friend the canon Justine again employed 
him to paint three pieces for the Hospital de los Venerables: 
the "Mystery of the Immamlstr Conceptwn," "St Peter 
Weeping." and the " Blessed Virgin." As a mark of esteem, 
HuiiQo iKxt painted a full-length portiait of the canon. The 
spaniel at the feet of the priest has ben known to caU forth a 
saail from a living dog. His portraits generally, thou^ few, 
arc of great beauty. Towards the ckise of Us life MmiUo 
cncttted a series oif pictures illustrative of the life of " the 
g biKHg doctor " for the Augustinian convent at SeviUe. This 
faiinSi us to the last work of the artisL Mounting a •^ffaiHSng 
one day at Cadis (wliither he had gone in z68i) to execute the 
higher parts of a large picture of the " Espousal of St Catherine," 
on which he was engaged for the Capuchins of that town, he 
stumbled, and fcU so violently that he received a hurt from which 
he never r ecove r ed. The great picture was left unfinished, and 
the artist returned to Seville to die. He died as Jie had lived, 
ahnmble, pious, brave man, on the 3rd of April 2682 in the arms 
of the chevalier Pedro Nuftes de Villavicendo, an intimate 
fciend and one of his best piqals. Another of hb numerous 
pupils was Sebastian Gomez, named "Muzillo's Muktto." 
Muiiilo left two sons (one of them at first an indifferent painter,- 
afterwards a priest) and a daughter— his wife haidng died 



MuxiDoliasalwaysbeenoneof the most popular of painters — 
not in Spain akme. His works show great tfrhirifal attainoDent 
without much style, and a strong feeling for ordinary ruture 
and for truthful or sfntimmfsl expression without ktfty boiuty 
or ideal elevation. Ws entasies of Madonnaf and Saints are 
the themes of some of his most celebrated achievements. Take 
as an rfsmpl^ the " Immaculate Cooceptksi. " (or " Assumption 
of the Virgin," for the titles may, with referoice to Murillo's 
treatments of this subject, alznost be interchanged) in the 
Louvre, a picture for which, on its sale from the Soult collection, 
one of the largest prices on record was given in 1852, some 
£24,6001. His mbjects may be divided into two great groups~ 
the scenes from low life (which werea new experiment in Spanish 
art, so ^ as the subjects of children are ooncemed), and the 
Scriptural, legendary and religious works. The former, of 
vhich some saJient sperimens are in the Dulwich Gallery, are, 
shboui^ undoubtedly truthful, neither ingenious not sym- 
pathetic; socdui uniightliness and roguish squalor are their 
foeadation. Works of this dass belong mostly to the earlier 
ytxn of Mnrillo's pnctioe. The subjects in which the painter 
Bost exoeb are crowded compositions in which some act of 
MistKnfss, involving the ascetic or sdf-mortifying element, 
ii being performed— subjects which, while repulsive in some of 
their details, miphawre the broadly human and the expressly 
Calbolic conceptions of life. A famous example is the picture, 
Bovia the Madrid Academy, of St Elizabeth of Hungary washing 
patients afiiicted with the scab or itch, and hence commonly 
aaaied " El Tifloso." Technically considered, it unites his three 
atyia of pninfing, more especially the cold and the warm. His 
power of giving a tmosp here to combined groups of figures is one 
el the marked charactoistics of MuriHo's art; and he may be said 
to have excelled in this respect all his predecessors or con- 
tBBpQozies of whatever schooL 

SeriOe most still be visited by perwns who wish to study 
If (BJBo thu r o og hly. A large number of the works which used 
to adorn this dty have, however, been transported else> 
In the Ptado Museum at Madrid are forty-five 
of Morina--the " Infant Christ and the Baptist " 
(au&ed " Los IiiSo$ delU Concha ")« *' St Bdefonso vested with 
a CHasubfe by the Madonna," &&; in the Museo della Trinidad, 
" Chriiit and the ^^rgxn appearing to St Frsnds in a Cavern " 
fraimneMe €uuip o si tion>» and various others In the National 



Gallery, London, the chief example is the " Holy Family "; this 
waa one of the master's latest works, painted in Cadis. In 
public galleries in the United Kingdom there are altogether 
twenty-four examples by Murillo; in those of Spain, seventy-one. 
MuriUo, who was the last pre-eminent painter of Seville, was 
an indef a ti ga b l e and prolific worker, hardly Inving his painting- 
room save lor his devotions in church; he realized large prices, 
according to the standard of his time, and made a great fortune. 
His character is recorded aa amiable and soft, yet independent, 
subject abo to sodden impulses, not wwmi-wwi i^th passion. 




Mtinae, d htmAn, Ac (Tiw); C. JuttLMurm (iUustrated, 
1893) : P. Lefort, MmOc tt $ts Uh€$ (1893) ; F. M. Tubino, MuriUo, 
su e^oca, Ac. (1864;^ Eog. tiaiU M 1 870); Dr G. C._ WUliamaon, 



ir«r«»9(i9u):C.& 



S\mI 



Th§. 



[1903)- 



(W. M. R.) 



HURfMUTH. ADAM («. I274-X347)i English ecclesiastic and 
c hron icle r , was bom in 1274 or 1375 and educated in the dvil 
law at Oxford. Between 131a and 1318 he practised in the 
papal curia at Avipion. Edward IL and Archbishop Winchebey 
were among hb dients, and hb legal services secured for him 
canonries at Hereford and St Paul's, and the precentorship 
of Exeter CathedrsL In 1331 he retired to a country living 
(Wraysbury, Bucks), and devoted himself to writing the history 
of hb own times. Hb ConHmiatio ckromcanm, begun not 
earlier than 1335,. starU from the year 1303, and was carried 
up to Z347, the year of hb death. Meagre at first, it becomes 
fuller about 1340 and b specially valuable for the history of the 
French wars. Murimuth has no merits of style, and gives a 
bald narrative of events. But he inoorjwrates many, documents 
in the latter part of hb book. The annab of St. Paul's whidi 
have been edited by Bishop Stubbs, are dosdy related to the 
work of Murimuth, but probably not from hb pen. The 
Continualio was carried on, after hb death, by an anonymous 
writer to the year 138a 

The only complete edition of the QmUnualic ekronicantm b that 
by E. M. Thompeon (Rolb Kries, 1889). The unifies to this edition, 
and to W. Stubbs'a ChmtkUs ef Edward I, and JL, vol i. (Rolb 
aeries, 1883), shottld be consulted. The anonymous continuation 
b printed in T. Hog's edition of Murimuth (Em. HitU Soc, London, 
X846). ^ af.W.CD.p 

■uiUBH, 1H01EA8 (r475-i537?), German satirbt, was 
bom on the 24th of December 1475 at Oberahnheim near Strass- 
burg. In 1490 he entered the order of Franciscan monks, and 
in Z495 bqjan a wandering life, studying and then teaching and 
preadung in Freiburg in-Breisgau, Paris, Cracow and Strassburg. 
The e mp eior Marimilian I. crowxied him in 1505 poeta laureatus; 
in Z506, he was created doctor theolopae, and in 1513 was ap- 
pointed custodian of the Franciscan monastery in Strassburg, 
an office which, on account of a scurrilous publication, he was 
forced to vacate the following year. Late in life, in 1518, he 
began the study of jurisprudence at the university of Basel, 
and in 1519 to<^ the degree of doctor juris. After journeys in 
Italy and EngUnd, he again settled in Strassburg, but, disturbed 
by the Reformation, sought an exQe at Lucerne in Switzerland 
in 1536. In ZS33 he was appointed priest of Oberehnhdm, 
where he died in Z537, or, according to some accounts, in Z536. 
Mumer was an energetic and pasdotute character, who made 
enemies wherever he went. There b not a trace of human 
kindnfwt in hb satires, which were directed sgainst the cor- 
ruption of the times, the Reformation, and especially against 
Luther. Hb most powerful satire— and the most virulent 
German satire of the period— 4s Von dem grossen Itdkerischen 
Nanen, wio Urn Dr iiwmer be s ckwo rm haL Among others 
may be mentioned Die Narrmbesekwdnmg (1512); Die Schdmen' 
Munft (i5Z3); Die GSuckmatt, which treats of enamoured foob 
(rsx9)» and a translation of Virgfl's Aetieid (15x5) dedicated to 
the emperor Maximilian I. Mumer abo wrote the humor- 
oua CkarHludutm logica* (Z507) and the Ludus stvdetUum 
frabttrgefuium (r$zz), beddes a transbtion of Justinian's 
InsHttUiones (Z519). 

AH Muroer's more important works have been republished in 




38 



MUROM— MURRAY, A. S. 



critical editions: a adection was publiabed by G. Bailee in KOracb- 
ner's Deutsche Nationalliteratur (1890). Cf. W. Kawcrau, Mumer 
und die Kirche des Mittelalters (1890); and by the same writer, 
Mumer und die deutsche R^ormatioH (1891}; aUo K. Ott, Vber 
Mumer s Verhaliniss tu Ceiler ( 1 896). 

MUROM, a town of Russia, in the government of Vladimir, 
on the craggy left bank of the Oka, close to its confluence with 
the Tesha, xo8 m. by rail S.E. of the dty of Vladimir. Pop. 
(1900), 12,874. Muron has an old cathedraL It is the chief 
entrep6t for grain from the basin of the lower Oka, and carries 
on an active trade with Moscow and Nizhniy-Novgorod. It is 
famed, as in andent times, for kitchen-gardens, eq>eciaUy for 
its cucumbers and seed for canaries. Its once famous tanneries 
have lost their importance, but the manufacture of linen has 
increased; it has also steam flour-mills, distilleries, manufac- 
tories of soap and of iron implements. 

MURPHY, ARTHUR (1737-1805), Irish actor and dramatist, 
son of a Dublin merchant, was bom at Clomquin, Roscommon, 
on the 37th of December 1727. From 1738 to 1744, under 
the name of Arthur French, he was a student at the English 
college at St Omer. He entered the coimtlng-house of a mer- 
chant at Cork on recommendation of his unde, Jeffery French, 
in 1747. A refusal to go to Jamaica aUenated French's interest, 
and Mivphy exchanged his situation for one in London. By 
the autumn of 1752 he was publishing the Grays Inn Journal^ 
a periodical in the style of the Spectator, Two years later he 
became an actor, and appeared in the title-r61es of Richard III. 
and Othdlo'f as Biion in Southerners Fatal Marriage; and as 
Osmyn in Congreve's Mourning Bride, His first farce. The 
Apprentice, was given at Drury Lane on the and of January 
1756. It was followed, among other plays, by The Uphciiterer 
(i757)» The Orphan of China (i759)> The Way to Keep Him 
(1760), AS in the Wrong (1761), The Grecian Daughter (x772)» 
and Know Your Own Mind (1777). These were almost all 
adaptations from the French, and were very successful, securing 
for their author both fame and trcalth. Murphy edited a 
political periodical, called the Test, in support of Henry Fox, by 
whose influence he was called to the bar at Lincob's Inn, 
although he had been refused at the Middle Temple in 2757 
on account of his connexion with the stage. Murphy also 
wrote a biography of Fidding, an essay on the life and genius 
of Samud Johnson and translations of Sallust and Tadtus. 
Towards the dose of his life the office of a commissioner of 
bankrupts and a pension of £200 were oonfened upon him 
by government. He died on the i8th of June 1805. 

MURPHY, JOHN FRANCIS (1853- ), American Umdscape 
painter, was bom at Oswego, New York, on the xxth of 
December X853. He first exhibited at the National Academy 
of Design in 1876, and was made an associate in X885 and a 
full academician two years later. He became a memba of the 
Sodety of American Artists (1901) and of the American Water 
Color Sodety. 

MURPHY, ROBERT (X806-X843), British mathematician, the 
son of a poor shoemaker, was bom at Mallow, in Ireland, in 
x8o6. At the age of thirteen, while working as an apprentice 
in his father's shop, he became known to certain gentlemen in 
the neighbourhood as a self-taught mathematician. Through 
their exertions, after attending a dsssical school in his native 
town, he was admitted to Caius College, Cambridge, in X825. 
Third wrangler in 1829, he was elected in the same year a fellow 
of his ooUe^e. A course of dissipation led him into debt; his 
fellowship was sequestered for the benefit of his creditors, and 
he was obliged to leave Cambridge in December 1832. After 
living for some time with his rdationa in Ireland, he repaired 
to London in X836, a penniless literary adventurer. In 1838 
he became examiner in mathematics and physics at London 
University. He had already contributed several mathematical 
papers to the Cambridge Philosophical Transactions (i83X~x836), 
Philosophical Magasine (1833-X842), and the Philosophical 
Transactions (1837), and had published Elementary Principles of 
the Theories of Electricity (1833). He now wrote for the " Library 
of Useful Knowledge " a Treatise on the Theory of Algfbroieal 
Equations (1839). He died on the xath of March 2843. 



MUBPHY8B0R0, a dty and the county-ceftt of JadtBon 
county, Illinois, U.S.A., m the south part of the state, on the 
Big Muddy River, about 57 m. N. of Cairo. Pop. (1890), 3880; 
(X900), 6463, induding 557 fordgn-bom and 456 negroes; (1910), 
7485. It is served by the Illinois Central, the Mobile & Ohio 
and the St Louis, Iron Mountain & Southern lailwayi. It is 
the centre for a fanning region, in which there are depodts of 
coal, iron, lead and shale, and there are various manufactures 
in the dty. Murphysboro was incorporated in 1867, and re- 
incorporated in 1875. 

MURRAIN (derived tfavou^ O. Fir. marine, from Lat. mori, to 
die), a general term for various virulent diseaixs in domesticated 
animals, synonymous with plague or epixooty. The prindpal 
diseases are dedt with under Rimdespest; PixuBO-FMxmiONiA; 
Anthrax; and Foot and Mouth Djdbeasb. See also Vetee- 
IN AEY S cience. 

MURRAY (or Mosay), BARL8 OF. The caxldomof Moray was 
one of the seven original earldoms of Scotland, its lands corre- 
sponding roughly to the modem counties of Inverneu axui Rosa. 
LitUe is known of the earls until about 13x4, when Sir Thomas * 
Randolph, a nephew of King Robert Brace, was created eazl 
of Moray (q.v.), and the Randolphs held the earldom until 1346, 
when the childless John Randolph, 3rd eari of this line -and a 
soldier of repute, was killed at the battle of NeviDe's Cross. 
According to some authorities the earldom was then held by 
John's sister Agnes (c. 13x2-1369) and her husband, Patrick 
Dunbar, carl of March or Dunbar (c. 1285-X368). However 
this may be, in 1359 an £n|^ish prince, Henry Plantagenet, 
duke of T^anoiHtfr (d. 1361), was made ei^ of Moray by King 
David n.; but in 1372 John Dunbar (d. 139X), a grandson of 
Sir Thomas Randidph and a son-in-law of Robort U., obtained 
the earldom. The last of the Dunbar earls was James Dunbar, 
who was murdered in August 1429, and after this date his 
daughter Elizabeth and her husband, Archibald Douc^ (d. 145 5) , 
called themsdves earl and countess of Moray. 

The next family to bear this title was an illfgitiroate branch 
of the royal house of Stuart, James IV. creating his natural 
son, James Stuart (c. 1499-X544), eari of Moray. James died 
without sons, and after the title had been borne for a short time 
by (jeoige Gordon, 4th eari of HunUy (c. isi4-x562), who 
was killed at (^orrichie in. 1562, it was bestowed in X562 by 
Mary Qmea of Scots upon her half-brother, an illegitimate son 
of James V. This was. the famous regent, James Stuart, cad 
of Moray, or Murray (see bdow), who was murdered in January 
X570; after this event a third James Stuart,. who had married 
the regent's daughter Elizabeth (d. X59X), hdd the earldom. 
He, who was called the " bonny eari," was killed by his heredi- 
tary enemies, the (jordons, in February 1592, when Us son James 
(d. X638) succeeded to the title. The earldom of Momy has 
remained in the Stuart family since this date. Alexander, the 
4th eari (d. 1701), was secretary of state for Scotland from x68o 
to X689; and in 1796 Frauds, the 9th earl (X737-X8X0), was 
made a peer of the United Kingdom as Baron Stuart. 

See vol. vL of Sir R. Douglas** Peerage of Scotland, new ed. by 
Sir J. b. Paul (1909). 

MURRAY, ALEXAHDER CTUART (X84X-X904), British 
srchsedocpst, was bom at Arbroath on the 8th of January Z84X, 
and educated there, at Edinburgh hi^ school and at the 
universities of Edinburgh and Berlin. In 1867 he entered the 
British Museum tut an assistant in the department of Greek and 
Roman antiquities under Sir Charies Newton, whom he soc- 
ceeded in x8i36. His younger brother, George Robert Milne 
Murray (b. X858), was made keeper of the botanical department 
in X89S, the only instance of two brothers becoming heads of 
departments at the museum. In X873 ^' Murray published a 
Manual of Mythology, and in the following year contributed to 
the Contemporary Reoiew two articles— one on the Homeric 
question — which led to a friendship with Mr Gladstone, the 
other on Greek painters. In x8do-x883 he brought out his 
History of Creeh Sculpture, which at once became a stsndaid 
work. In x886 he was sdected by the Society of Antiquaries of 
I Scotland to deliver the Rhind lectures on archaeology, out of 



MURRAY, D.— MURRAY, LORD GEORGE 



39 



which grew ids Handbook of Greek Archaeobgy (189a). In 
1894-1896 Dr Murray directed some excav&tions in Cyprus 
undertaken by means of a bequest of £2000 from Mjss Emina 
Toumour Turner. The objects obtained are ^escribed and 
Shsstrated in Excamttums m Cyprus, published by the trustees 
of the muMum in 2900^ Among Dr Murray's other official 
pablicadnnii are three folio volumes on Terracotta Sarcophagi, 
Wkita Atiemian Vases and Desipufrom Greek Vases. In 1898 
be wrote for the Portfolio a monog*tiph on Greek bronzes, 
fo u n d ed oa lectures delivaed at the Royal Academy in that 
year, sod he contributed many articles on archaeology to 
standard publications. In recognition of his services to archaeo- 
logy be was made LLP, of Glasgow University in 1887 and 
elected a conesponding member of the Bedin Academy of 
Sc iences in 1900. He died in March 1904. 

■UBRAT, DAVID (1849- ), Scottish painter, was bom in 
Glasgow, and spent some years in commercial purniiu before 
he pfacdsed as an artist. He was elected an assocfaite of the 
Rcyyal Academy in 2891 and academician in 1905; and also 
becune an associate of the Royal Scottisfa Academy and of 
the VUayil Society of Painters in Water Colours, and a member 
of the Royal Scottish Water Colour Sodety. He is a Undscape 
painter of disdnction, and two of his pictures* " My Love is 
gone assailing " (1884) and " In the Country of Constable " 
(i909)> have been bought for the National Gallery of British 
Art. " Young Wheat," painted in 1890^ is one of his most 
noteworthy works. 

HURRAY. RD8TAGB CLARB QRBHVIUB (2824-2881), 
English journalist, was bom in 1824, the natural son of the and 
duke of Bnrkingham, Educated at Magdalen Hall (Hertford 
CoOege), (hfocd, he entered the difdomatic service through the 
MitftiMw^ of Lord Falmerston, and in 1852 joined the British 
e a h —sy at Vienna as attach^ At the same time he agreed 
to act as Viemia correspondent of a London daily paper, a 
breach o< the conventions of the British Foreign Office which 
cost him his post. In 2852 he was transferred to Hanover, 
and thence to Constantinople, and finally, in 1855, was made 
ooDsal-gencral at Odessa. In 2868 he returned to England, 
aad devoted himself to journalism. He contributed to the 
CBdy nombeis of Vamty Fair, and in 2869 founded a clever but 
abeive society paper, the Queen's Messenger. For a libel 
FiHV»H in this paper Lord Carrington bonewhipped him 
on the doorstep of a London dub. Murray was subsequently 
diaiged with perjury for denying on oath h^ authorship of the 
artide. Remanded on bail, he escaped to Paris, where he 
aabsequently lived, acting as correspondent of various London 
papeis. In 1874 he hdped Edmund Yates to found the World. 
Monay died at Pas^ on the aoth of December 2881. 

Hk aoopt of books, several of which were translated into French 



ana pwHtt'^H in Paris, inclade French Pictures in En^h Chalk 
{X87&-1878): Tho Roving Btgfishman in Turkey (1854); ^'^ ^ ^^ 
SeiMnd Empiro (1872): Yonng Brown (1674): StdeltglUs on English 
Soday (i88t); and Under the Lens: Social Photographs (1885). 

■TORAY, U>RD GBOROB {169^1760), Scottish Jacobite 
feneral, fifth son of John, zst duke of AthoJl, by his first wife, 
Catlieaiie, daughter of the 3rd duke of Hamilton, was bom 
at Hsntingtower, near Perth, on the 4th of October 2694. 
He joined the army in Flanders in June 2722; in 2725, contrary 
to their father's wishes, he and his brotheis, the marquis o£ 
TalEbaidiiie and Lord Charles Murray, joined the Jacobite rebels 
under the eari oi Mar, each brother commanding a regiment of 
men ol AthoO. Lord Charles was taken prisoner at Preston, 
bat aficr the collapie of the rising Lord George escaped with 
TaJEbaidiiie to Soirth Uist, and thence to Fkanoe. In 2729 
lianaj biok part in the Jacobite attempt in conjunction irith 
the Spaniards in the western highlands, under the command of 
Ta&banfine and the eari marischal, which terminated in *' the 
affair of GlensbSd ' on the roth of June, when he was wounded 
vUie ooimna&ding the right wing of the Jacobites. After 
tomg Jor some months in the highlands he reached Rotter- 
dam ID May r72a ' There k no evidence for the statement that 
Ustwv scrvscTlA.the Sarrfiniiin waajfajnd little is known of his 



life on the continent till 2724, when he returned to Scotland, 
where !n the following year he was granted a pardon. The duke 
of AthoU died in 2 724 and was succeeded in the title by his second 
son James, owing to the atuinder of Tullibardine; and Lord 
-George leased from his brother the old family property of 
Tullibardine in Stratheam, where he lived till 1745. 

On the eve of the Jacobite rising of 2745 the duke of Perth 
made overtures to Lord George Murray on behalf of the 
Pretender; but even after the landing of Charles Edward in 
Scotland in July, accompanied by Tullibardine, Murra/s attitude 
remained doubtfuL He accompanied his brother the duke to 
Crieff on the 22St of August to pay his respects to Sir John Cope, 
the commander of the government troops, and he permitted 
the duke to appoint him deputy-sheriff of Perthshire. It has 
been suggested that Murray acted with duplidty, but his 
hesitation was tutural and genuine; and it was not till early in 
September, when Charles Edward was at Blair Castle, which had 
been vacated by the duke of AthoU on the prince's approach, 
that Murray dedded to espouse the Stuart cause. He then 
wrote to his brother explaining that he did so for consdentious 
reasons, while realizing the risk of ruin it involved. On joining 
the Jacobite army Lord George received a commission as lieu- 
tenant-general, though the prince ostentatiously treated him 
with want of confidence; and he was flouted by the Irish adven- 
turers who were the Pretender's trusted advisers. At Perth 
Lord George exerted himself with success to introduce disdpline 
and organiaation in the army he was to command, and he gained 
the confidence of the highland levies, with whose habits and 
methods of fighting he was familiar. He also used his influence 
to prevent the exactions and arbitrary interference with dvil 
rights which Charles was too ready to sanction on the advice of 
others. At Preslonpans, on the 22st of September, Lord George, 
who led the Jacobite left wing in person, was practically com- 
mander-in-chief, and it was to his able generalship that the 
victory was mainly due. During the six weeks' occupation of 
Edinburgh he did useful work in the further organization and 
disdplining of the army. He opposed Charles's plan of invading 
En^nd, and when his judgment was overruled he prevailed 
on the prince to march into Cumberland, which he knew to be 
favourable ground for highlander tactics, instead of advancing 
against General Wade, whose army was posted at Newcastle. 
He conducted the siege of Carlisle, but on the surrender of the 
town on the 24th of November he resigned his command on 
the ground that his authority had been insuffidently upbdd by 
the prince, and he obtained permission to serve as a volunteer 
in the ranks of the Atholl levies. The dissatisfaction, however, 
of the army with the appointment of the duke of Perth to 
succeed him compelled Charles to reinstate Murray, who accord- 
ingly commanded the Jacobites in the march to Derby. Here 
on the 5th of December a council was hdd at which Murray 
urged the necessity for retreat, owing to the failure of the English 
Jacobites to support the invasion and the absence of aid from 
France As Murray was supported by the council the retreat 
was ordered, to the intense chagrin of Charles, who never forgave 
him; but the failure of the enterprise was mainly chargeable 
to Charies himself, and it was not without justice that Mui ray's 
aide de camp, the chevalier Johantone, dedared that "had 
Prince Charles slept during the whole of the expedition, and 
allowed Lord George Murray to act for him according to his 
own judgment, he would have found the crown of Great Britain 
on his head when he awoke.'^ Lord George commanded the 
rear-guard during the retreat; and this task, rendered doubly 
dangerous by the proximity of Cumberland in the rear and Wade 
on the flank, was made still more difficult by the incapadty 
and petulance of the Pretender. By a skilfully fought rear- 
guard action at Clifton Moor, Lord George enabled the army to 
reach Carlisle safdy and without loss of stores or war material, 
and on the 3rd of January 2746 the force entered Stirling, where 
they were joined by reinforcements from Perth. The prince 
laid siege to Stirling Castle, while Murray defeated General 
Hawley near Falkirk; but the losses of the Jacobites by sickness' 
and desertion, and the aDsroschof Cumfaeiiandt.inade retreat 



MURRAY, JAMES— MURRAY, EARL OF 



40 

to the IfigUands an immediate necessity, in which the prince 
was compelled to acquiesce; his resentment was such that he 
gave ear to groundless suggestions that Murray was a traitor, 
which the tatter's failure to capture his brother's stronghold 
of Blair Castle did nothing to refute. 

In April 1746 the Jacobite army was in the neighbourhood 
of Inverness, and the prince decided to give battle to the duke 
of Cumberland. Charles took up a position on the left bank of 
the Nairn river at CuUoden Moor, rejecting Lord George's Murray 
advice to select a much stronger position on the opposite bank. 
The battle of CuUoden, where the Stuart cause was ruined, 
was fought on the x6th of April 1746. On the following day the 
duke of Cumberland intimated to his troops that " the public 
orders of the rebels yesterday was to pve us no quarter"; 
Hanoverian news-sheets printed what purported to be copies 
of such an order, and the liistorian James Ray and other oon> 
temporary writers gave further currency to a calumny that has 
been repeated by modem authorities. Original cc^ies of Lord 
George Murray's " orders at CuUoden " are in existence, one of 
which is among Cumberiand's own papers, while another was 
in the possession of Lord Hardwicke, the judge who tried the 
Jacobite peers in 1746, and they contain no injunction to refuse 
quarter. After the defeat Murray conducted a remnant of the 
Jacobite army to Ruthven, and prepared to organise further 
resistance. Prince Charles, however, had determined to aban- 
don the enterprise, and at Ruthven Lord George received an 
order dismissing him from the prince's service, to which he replied 
in a letter upbraiding Charles for his distrust and mismanage- 
ment. Charles's belief in the general's treachery was shared 
by several leading Jacobites, but there appears no ground for 
the suq>idon. From the moment he threw in his lot with the 
exiled prince's cause Lord George Murray never deviated in his 
byalty and devotion, and his generalship was deserving of the 
highest praise; but the discipline he enforced and jealousy of 
his authority made enemies of some of those to whom Charles 
was more inclined to listen than to the general who gave him 
sound but unwelcome advice. 

Murray escaped to the continent in December 1746, and was 
graciously received in Rome by the Old Pretender, who granted 
him a pension; but in the following year when he went to Paris 
Charles Edward refused to see him. Lord George lived at 
various places abroad until his death, which occurred at Medem- 
blik in Holland on the izth of October 1760. He married 
in 1728 Amelia, daughter and heiress of James Murray of 
Strowan and Glencarse, by whom he had three sons and two 
daughters. His eldest son John became 3rd duke of AthoU in 
1764; the two younger sons became lieutenant-general and 
vice-admiral respectively in the British service. 

See A Military History ef Perthskirt^ ed. by the marchioneas of 
TuUibardinc {2 vols., London, 1908), containing a memoir of Lord 
Gcorse Murray and a facnmile copy of hb ordera at CuUoden; 
The AthoU Chronicles, ed. by the duke of AthoU tprivately printed) ; 
The Chevalier James de Johnstone, Memoirs ef Uie JUbdfion m I74< 
(3rd ed., London. 182a) ; James Ray, Compiecl Historie ef the Rebd' 




History of the Rebellion^ 1745-1746 (and ed., London, 17^). 

(R. J. M.) 

MURRAY. JAMBS {c, 17x9-1794), British governor of Canada, 

was a younger son of Alexander Murray, 4th Lord Elibank 

(d. 1736). Having entered the British army, he served with the 

15th Foot in the West Indies, the Netherlands and Brittany, and 

became lieutenantpoolond of this rei^ent by purchase in 1751. 

In 1757 he led his men to North America to take part in the 

war against France. He commanded a brigade at the siege of 

Louisburg, was one of Wolfe's three brigadiers in the expedition 

against (^ebec, and commanded the left wing of the army in 

the famous battle in September 1759. After the British victory 

and the capture of the city, Murray was left in conmiand of 

Quebec; having strengthened its fortifications and taken 

measures to improve the morale of his men, he defended it in 

April and May 1760 against the attacks of the French, who were 

soon oonqwUed to raise the siege. .The British troops had been 



dedmated by disease, and it was only a remnant that Murray 
now led to jdn (jeneial Amherst at Montreal, and to be present 
when the last batch of French troops in Canada surrendered. 
In October 1760 he was appomted governor of Quebec, and be 
became governor of Canada after this country had been formaUy 
ceded to Great Britain in 1763. In thb year he queUed a 
dangerous mutiny, and soon after?rards his aUeged partiality for 
the interests of the French Canadians gave offence to the British 
settlers; they asked for his recaU, and in 1766 he retired from his 
post. After an inquiry in the House of Lords, he was exonerated 
from the charges wUch had been brought against him. In 
1774 Murray was sent to Mmorca as governor, and in 1781, 
while he was in charge of this island, he was besieged in Fort 
St PhiUp by a large force of French and Spaniards. After a 
stubborn resistance, which lasted neariy seven months, he was 
obliged to surrender the place; and on his return to Eng^d 
he was tried by a court-martial, at the instance of Sir WUliam 
Draper, who had served under him in Minorca aa Ueutenant- 
govemor. He was acquitted and he became a general in 1783. 
He died on the x8th of June 1794. Murray's only son was 
James Patrick Mortay (x 782-1834), a major-goiaal and member 
of parUamenL 

MURRAY, SIR JAMB AUQQ8TUS HIHRT (1837- )» 
British lexicographer, was bom at Denholm, near Hawick, 
Roxburghshire, and after a local elementary edncation.prooeeded 
to Edinbrng^, and thence to the university of London, where 
he graduated B.A. in 1873. Sir James Murray, who received 
honorary degrees from several universities, both British and 
foreign, was engaged in scholastic work for thirty years, from 
X855 to x88s, chiefly at Hawick and MiU HiU. During this time 
his reputation aa a philologist was increasing, and he was 
assistant examiner in English at the University of London from 
1875 to 1879 and president of the Philokgical Society of London 
from 1878 to x88o, and again from x88a to 1884. It was in 
connexion with this society that he undertook the chief work 
of his life, the editing of the New English Dictionaryt based on 
materials coUected by the sodety. These materials, which had 
accumulated since X857, when the sodety first projected the 
pubUcation of a dictionary on philological prindples, amounted 
to an enormous quantity, of wl^ch an idea may be formed from 
ihe fact that Dr FumivaU sent in " some ton and three-quarters 
of materials which had accumulated under his roof." After 
negotiations extending over a considerable period, the contxacta 
between the sodety, the delegates of the Clarendon Press, and 
the editor, were signed on the xst of March 1879, and Murray 
began the examination and arrangement of the raw material, 
and the stiU more troublesome work of re-animating and main- 
taining the enthusiasm of " readers." In x88$ he removed from 
MiU HiU to Oxford, where his Scriptorium came to rank among 
the institutions of the University dty. The first volume of 
the dictionary was printed at the Clarendon Piess, Oxford, 
in x888. A fuU account of its beginning and tht maimer of 
working up the materials wiU be found in Murray *s presidential 
address to the Phflological Sodety in 1879, while reports of 
iU progress are given in the addresses by himself and other 
presidenta in subsequent years. In addition to his work n & 
philobgist, Murray was a frequent contributor to the transac- 
tions of the various antiquarian and archaeological aodetles of 
which he is a member; and he wrote the article on the English 
languagr for this Encydopaedia. In x88$ he recdved the 
honorary degree of M.A. from Balliol CoUege; he was an original 
feUow of the British Academy, and in X908 he was knii^ted. 

MURRAY (or Mo»ay), JAMB STUART, Eau. or (c. XS3X* 
X570), regent of Scotland, was an Ulegitimate son of James V. 
of Scotland by Margaret Erskine, daughter of John Ersldme, 
eari of Mar. In 1538 he was appointed prior of the abbey of 
St Andrews in order that James V. might obtain possession of 
its funds. Educated at St Andrews University, he attacked, 
in September 1549, an EngUsh force which had inade a descent 
on the Fife coast, and routed it with great slaughter. In 
addition to the priory of St Andrews, he lecdved those abo of 
PittcDweem and MAoon in Fxaaoe, but minifffltcd no jfocatioa. 



MURRAY, JOHN 



4« 



far a monastic life. The discourses of KnoXt which he heard 
at Calder, won his an»ovaU and shortly after the return of the 
ftforoKr to Scotland in 1559, James Stuart left the party of the 
queen regent and joined the lords of the congregatbn, who 
resolved forcibly to abolish the Roman service. After the 
return of Queen Maxy in 15S1, he became her chief adviser, and 
his cautious firmness was for a time effectual in inducing her 
to adopt a policy of moderation towards the reformers. At the 
beginning of 1563 he was created earl of Murray, a dignity also 
held by George Gordon, earl of Huntly, who, however, had 
lost the queen's favour. Only a few days later he was made earl 
of Mar, but as this title was claimed by John, Lord Erskine, 
Siuart resigned it and received a second grant of the earldom of 
Murray, Hunily by this time having been killed in battle. 
HeiKeforward he was known as the earl of Moray, the alternative 
Murray being a more modem and less correct variant. About 
this time the earl married Anne (d. 1583), daughter of William 
Kdth, ist Earl MarischaL 

After the defeat and death of Huntly, the leader of the 

Catholic party, the pdicy of Murray met for a time with no 

ohsude, but he awakened the displeasure of the queen by his 

e£orts in behalf <rf Knox when the latter was accused of high 

treas<ni; and as he was also opposed to her marriage with 

Damlcy, he was after that event declared an outlaw and took 

refuge in Eni^and. Returning to Scotland after the murder 

of Rizzio, he was pardoned by the queen. He contrived, 

however, to be away at the time of Damley's assassination, 

asd avoided the tangles of the marriage with Bothwell by going 

to France. After the abdication of Queen Mary at Locblevcn, 

in July ZS67, be was appointed regent of Scotland. When 

IrXaiy escaped from Locbleven (May a, 1568), the duke of Ch&lcl- 

hcrault and other Catholic nobles rallied to her standard, 

bet Murray and the Protestant lords gathered their adherents, 

defeated her forces at Langside, near Glasgow (May 13, 1568), 

sad compelled her to flee to England. Murray displayed 

promptness in baffling Mary's schemes, suppressed the border 

thieves, and ruled firmly, resisting the temptation to place the 

aovn 00 his own head. He observed the forms of personal 

piety; poseSbAy he shared the zeal of the reformers, while he 

moderated their bigotry. But he reaped the fruits of the 

coQ^^ades which led to the murders of Rizzio and Damlcy. 

He amassed too great a fortune from the estates of the Church 

to be deemed a pure reformer of its abuses. He pursued his 

sbler with a cakubted animosity which would not have spared 

her life had this been necessary to his end or been favoured by 

Elizabeth. The mode of producing the casket letters and 

the fahe charges added by Buchanan, deprive Murray of any 

daim to have been an honest accuser. His reluctance to charge 

Mary with complicity in the murder of Damley was feigned, 

tad his object was gained when he was allowed to table the 

accusation without being forced to prove it. Mary remained 

a captive under suspicion of the gravest guilt, while Murray 

ruled Scotland in her stead, supported by nobles who had taken 

{art in the steps which ended in BoihwcU's deed. During the 

year between his becoming regent and his death several events 

Gccuncd for which he has been xensured, but which were 

ixcessary for his security: the betrayal to Elizabeth of the duke 

cf Korf<]lk and of the secret plot for the liberation of Mary; the 

imprisonment of the earl of Northumberland, who after the 

(ulare of his rising in the north of England had Uken refuge' 

is ScotlazKl; and the charge brought against Mailland of Lelh- 

isgion of complicity in Damley's murder. Lethington was 

Goeaniited to custody, Init was rescued by Kirkaldy of Grange, 

»bo held the castle of Edinburgh, and while there " the chame* 

Sroa," as Buchanan named Maitbnd in his famous invective, 

gained over those in the castle, including Kirkaldy. Murray 

«xs afraid to pnxxed with the charge on the day of trial, while 

Kirkaldy and Maitland held the castle, which became the 

sn»g|iold of the deposed queen's party. It has been suspected 

tiut Maitland and Kirkaldy were cognizant of the design of 

Hamiltoo of BothweUhaugh to murder Murray, for he had been 

with. them In the castle. This has been ascribed to private 



vengeance for the ill-treatment of his wife, but the feud of the 

Hamiltons with the regent is the most reasonable explanation. 

As he rode through Linlithgow Murray was shot on the 21st of 

January 1 570 from a window by Hamilton, who had made careful 

preparation for the murder and bis own escape. He was buried 

in the south aisle of St Giles Cathedral, Edinburgh, amid general 

mourning* Knox preached the sermon and Buchanan furnished 

the epitaph, both panegyrics. The elder of his two daughters, 

Elizabeth, married James Stuart (d. 1592), son of James, 1st 

Lord Doune, who succeeded to the earldom of Murray in right 

of his wife. 

The materials for the life of Murray are found in the records and 
documents of the time, prominent among which arc the various 
CaUndars of State Papers. Mention must also be made of the many 
books which treat of Mary, Queen of Scots, and of the histories of 
the time— especially I. A. Froude, History ef England^ and Andrew 
Lang, History of Scotland. 

MURRAY, JOHN, the name for several generations of a great 
firm of London publishers, founded by John McMurray (1745- 
I7Q3)> A native of Edinburgh and a retired lieutenant of marines, 
who in 1768 bought the book business of William Sandby in 
Fleet Street, and, dropping the Scottish prefix, called himself 
John Murray. He was one of the twenty original proprietors 
of the Morning Chronicle^ and started the monthly English 
Review (1783-1706). Among his publications were Mil ford's 
Greece, Langhome's Plutarch*s LiveSf and the first part of Isaac 
D'lsraeli's Curiosities of Liieralure, He died on the 6th of 
November 1793. 

John Murray (2) (i 778-1843), his son, was then fifteen. 
During his minority the business was conducted by Samud 
Highlcy, who was admitted a partner, but in 1803 the partner- 
ship was dissolved. Murray soon began to show the courage 
in literary speculation which earned for him later the name 
given him by Lord Byron of " the Anak of publishers." In 
1807 he took a share with Constable in publishing Marmion, 
and became part owner of the Edinburgh Review^ although with 
the help of Canning he bunched in opposition the Quarterly 
Review (Feb. 1809), with Willbm Gifford as its editor, and Scott, 
Canning, Southey, Hookham Frere and John Wilson Croker 
among its earliest contributors. Murray was closely connected 
with Constable, but, to his distress, was compelled in 1813 to 
break this assodation on account of Constable's business methods, 
which, as he foresaw, led to disaster. In 181 1 the first two 
cantos of Childe Haroid were brought to Murray by R. C. Dallas, 
to whom Byron had presented them. Murray paid Dallas 
500 guineas for the copyright. In 18x2 he bought the pub- 
lishing business of William Miller (1769-1844), and migratcid to 
so, Albemarle Street. Literary London flocked to his house, and 
Murray became the centre of the publishing world. It was in 
his drawing-room that Scott and Byron first met, and here, in 
1824, after the death of Lord Byron, the MS. of his memoirs, 
considered by Gififord unfit for publication, was destroyed. 
A close friendship existed between Byron and his publi^er, 
but for political reasons business relations ceased after the 
publication of the 5th canto of Don Juan. Murray paid Byron 
some £20,000 for his various poems. To Thomas Moore he 
gave nearly £5000 for writing the life of Byron, and to Crabbe 
£3000 for Tales of the Hall. He died on the 27lh of June 1843. 

His son, John Murray (3) (1808-1892), inherited much of 
his business tact and judgment. " Murray's Handbooks " for 
travellers were issued under his editorship, and he himself wrote 
several volumes (see his article on the " Handbooks " in Murray' t 
Magazine, November 1889). He published many books of 
travel; also Campbell's Lives of the Chancellors, The Speaher*s 
Commentary, Smith's Dictionaries; and works by Halbm, 
Gbdstone, Lycll, Layard, Dean Stanley, Borrow, Darwin, Living- 
stone and Samuel Smiles. He died on the and of April 1892, 
and was succeeded by his eldest son, John Murray (4) (b. 1851), 
under whom, in assodation with his brother, A. H. HaUam 
Mumiy, the firm was continued. 

See Samuel Smiles, A PuUisher and his Friends, Memoirs and 
Corresfondenee of the late John Murray . . . (1891), for the second 
John Murray; a series of three artides by F. Esptnasse on " The 



+2 



MURRAY, J.— MURREE 



House of Murray," in Tlte Critic (Tan. i860) ; and a |>aper by the 
same writer in Harper's New MonliUy Uagasine (Sept. 1885). See 
the Letters and Journals of Byron (cd. Prothcro, 1 898-1901). 

MURRAY, JOHN (1778-1820), Scottish chemist, was bom at 
Edinburgh in 1778 and died there on the 2and of July 1820. 
He graduated M.D. at St Andrews in 1814, agd attained some 
reputation as a lecturer on chemistry and materia medica. He 
was an opponent of Sir Humphry Davy's theory of chlorine, 
supporting the view that the substance contained oxygen, and 
it was in the course of experiments made to disprove his argu- 
ments that Dr John Davy discovered phosgene or carbonyl 
chloride. He was a diligent writer of textbooks, including 
Elements of Chemistry (1801); Elements of Materia Medica and 
Pharmacy (1804); A System of Chemistry (1806), and (anony- 
mously) A Comparative View of the Huttonian and Neptunian 
Systems of Geology. He is sometimes confused with another 
John Murray (i 786-1851), a popular lecturer at mechanics' 
institutes. The two men carried on a dispute about the inven- 
tion of a miners' safety lamp in the Phil. Mag. for 181 7. 

MURRAY, SIR JOHN (1841- ), British geographer and 
naturalist, was bom at Coburg, Ontario, Canada, on the 
3rd of March 1841, and after some years' local schooling studied 
in Scotland and on the Continent. He was then engaged for 
some years in natural history work at Bridge of Allan. In 
1868 he visited Spitsbergen on a whaler, and in 1872, when the 
voyage of the " Challenger " was projected, he was appointed 
one of the naturalists to the expedition. At the conclusion of 
the voyage he was made principal assistant in drawing up the 
scientific results, and in 1882 he became editor of the Reports, 
which were completed in 1896. He compiled a summary of the 
results, and was part-author of the Narrative of tfie Cruise &nd of 
the Report on Deep-sea Deposits. He also published numerous 
important papers on oceanography and marine biology. In 
1898 he was made K.C.B., and the received many distinctions 
from the chief scientific societies of the world. Apart from his 
work in connexion with the " Challenger " Reports, he went in 
18S0 and 1882 on expeditions to explore the Facroc Channel, 
and between 1882 and 1894 was the prime mover in various 
biological investigations in Scottish waters. In 1897, with 
the generous financial assistance of Mr Laurence Pullar and a 
staff of specialists, he began a bathymclrical survey of the 
fresh-water lochs of Scotland, the results of which, with a 
fine series of illustrations and maps, were published in iqio 
in six volumes. He took a leading part in the expedition 
which started in April 1910 for the physiological and biological 
investigation of the North Atlantic Ocean on the Norwegian 
vessel " Michael Sars." 

MURRAY, LINDLEY (i 745-1826), Anglo-American gram- 
marian, was bom at Swatara, Pennsylvania, on the 32nd of 
April 1745. His father, a (^aker, was a leading New York 
merchant. At the age of fourteen he was placed in his father's 
office, but he ran away to a school in Burlington, New Jersey. 
He was brought back to New York, but his arguments against 
a commercial career prevailed, and he was allowed to study 
law. On being called to the bar he practised successfully in 
New York. In 1783 he was able to retire, and in 1784 he left 
America for England. Settling at Holgate, near York, he 
devoted the rest of his life to literary pursuits. His first book 
was Power of Rdigion on tlie Mind (1787). In 1795 he issued 
his Grammar of 0u English Language. This was followed, 
among other analogous works, by English Exercises, and the 
English Reader. These books passed through several editions, 
and the Grammar was the standard textbook for fifty years 
throughout England and America. Lindley Murray died on 
the i6th of January 1826. 

Sec the Memoir of^ the Life and Writings of Lindley Murray 
(partly autobiographical), by Elizabeth Frank (1826); Life of 
Murray, by W. H. Eglc (New York, 1885). 

MURRAY (or Moray). SIR ROBERT (c. 1600-1673)^ one of 
the founders of the Royal Society, was the son of Sir Robert 
Murray of Crafgie, Ayrshire, and was bom about the beginning 
of the 17th century. In early life he served in the French army, 
and, winning the favour of Richelieu, rose to the rank of colonel. 



On the outbreak of the Civil War he retumed to Scotland and 
collected recmits for the royal cause. The triumph of Cromwell 
compelled him for a time to return to France, but he took part 
in the Scottish insurrection in favour of Charles II. in 1650, and 
was named lord justice clerk and a privy councillor. These 
appointments, which on account of the overthrow of the royal 
cause proved to be at the time only nominal, were confirmed at 
the Restoration in 1660. Soon after this Sir Robert Murray 
began to take a prominent part in the deliberations of a club 
instituted in London for the discussion of natural science, or, 
as it was then called, the " new philosophy." When it was 
proposed to obtain a charter for the society he undertook to 
interest the king in the matter, the result being that on the 
15th of July 1663 the club was incorporated by charter under 
the designation of the Royal Society. Murray was its first 
president. He died in June 1673. 

MURRAY, the largest river in Australia. It rises in the 
Australian Alps in 36" 40' S. and 147^ E., and flowing north-west 
skirts the borders of New South Wales and Victoria until it 
passes into South Australia, shortly after which it bends south- 
ward into Lake Alexandrina, a shaJlow lagoon, whence it makes 
its way to the sea at Encounter Bay by a narrow opening at 
iS" iS* S. and 138® 55' E. Near its source the Murray Gates, 
precipitous rocks, tower above it to the height of 3000 ft.; 
and the earlier part of its course is tortuous and uneven. 
Farther on it loses so much by evaporation in some parts as to 
become a scries of pools. Its length till it debouches into Lake 
Alexandrina is 11 20 m., its average breadth in summer is 240 ft., 
its average depth about 16 ft.; and it drains an area of about 
270,000 sq. m. For small steamers it is navigable as far as 
Albury. Periodically it overflows, causing wide inundations. 
The principal tributaries of the Murray are those from New 
South Wales, including the Edward River, the united streams of 
the Murmmbidgce and Lachlan, and the Darling or Callewatta. 
In 1829 Captain Sturt traced the Murmmbidgee River till it 
debouched into the Murray, which he followed down to Lake 
Alexandrina, but he was compelled, after great hardships, to 
retum without discovering its mouth. In 1831 Captain Barker, 
while attempting to discover this, was murdered by the natives. 

MURRAY COD (Oligorus tnacquariensis), one of the largest 
of the numerous fresh-water Perciform fishes of Australia, and 
the most celebrated for its excellent flavour. It belongs to 
the family Serranidae. Its taxonomic affinities lie in the direc- 
tion of the perch and not of the cod family. The shape of the 
body is that of a perch, and the dorsal fin consists of a spinous 



• • • . 






■'^*y7 



^^ 



Murray Cod. 

and rayed portion, the number of spines being eleven. The 
length of the spines varies with age, old individuals having 
shorter spines— that is, a lower dorsal fin. The form of the 
head and the dentition also resemble those of a perch, but 
none of the bones of the head has a serrated margin. The 
scales are small. The colour varies in different localities; it 
is generally brownish, with a greenish tinge and numerous 
small dark green spots. As impUed by the name, this fish has 
its headquarters in the Murray River and its tributaries, but it 
occurs also in the northem parts of New South Wales. It is the 
most important food fish, of these rivers, and is said to attain 
a length of more than 3 ft. and a weight of 1 20 lb. 

MURREE, a town and sanatorium of British India, in the 
Rawalpindi district of the Punjab, 7517 ft. above the sea, about 
five hours' joumey by cart-road from Rawalpindi town, and 
the starting-point for Kashmir. The houses arc built on the 



MURSHIDABAD— MUSCAT 



43 



sammit and skies of an irreguUr ridge, and command magnifi- 
cent views over forest-clad hills and deep valleys, studded with 
villages and cultivated fields, with the snow-covered peaks of 
Kashmir in the background. The population in 1901 was 1844; 
but these figures omit the summer visitors, who probably number 
10,000. The garrison generally consists of three mountain 
batteries. Since 1877 the summer offices of the provincial 
government have been transferred to Simla. The Murrcc 
bcewcry, one of the largest in India, is the chief industrial 
establishment. The Lawrence Military Asylum for the children 
of European soldiers is situated here. 

MUBSHIDABAD. or Moossheedabad, a town and district 
of British India, in the Presidency division of Bengal. The 
administrative headquarters of the dbtrict axe at Berhampur. 
The town of Murshidabad is on the left bank of the Bhagirathi 
or oJd sacred channel of the Ganges. Pop. (1901), 15,168. 
The city of Murshidabad was the latest Mahommedan capital 
of Bengal. In 1704 the nawab Murshid Kulia Khan changed 
the seat of government from Dacca to Maksudabad, which he 
called after his own name. The great family of Jagat Seth 
maintained their position as state bankers at Murshidabad 
from generation to generation. Even after the conquest of 
Bengal by the British, Murshidabad remained for some time 
the seat of administration. Warren Hastings removed the 
supreme dvil and criminal courts to Calcutta in 1773, but in 
1775 the latter court was brought back to Murshidabad again. 
In 1790^ under Lord Cbmwallis, the entire revenue and judicial 
staffs were fixed at Calcutta. The town is still the residence 
of tfie nawab, who ranks as the first nobleman of the province 
wkh tbe style of nawab bahadur of Murshidabad, instead of 
nawab nazim of Bengal. His palace, dating from 1837, is a 
ma^iificent building in Italian style. The city is crowded with 
other pii'?«'ys mosques, tombs, and gardens, and retains such 
indostiies as carving in ivory, gold and silver embroidery, and 
sSk-veaving. A college is maintained for the education of the 
nawab's family. 

Tbe DisTsiCT of Mttssridabao has an area of 2143 sq. m. 
It is divided into two nearly equal portions by the Bhagirathi, 
the ancient channel of the Ganges. The tract to the west, 
known as the Rarh, consists of hard clay and nodular limestone. 
The general level is high, but interspersed with marshes and 
seamed by hill torrents. The Bagri or eastern half belongs to 
allavial {dains of eastern Bengal. There are few permanent 
swamps; but the whole country is low-lying, and liable to annual 
inundation. In the north-west are a few small detached hillocks, 
said to be of basaltic formation. Pop. (zgoi), 1,333,184, show- 
ing an increase of 6-6% in the decade. The principal industry 
is that of silk, formerly of much importance, and now revived 
with government assistance. A narrow-gauge railway crosses 
the district, from the East Indian line at Nalhati to Azimganj 
on the Bhagirathi, the home of many rich Jain merchants; and 
a branch of the Eastern Bengal railway has been opened. 

MIISv the name of a Roman family of the plebeian Dedan 
gens, (i) PuBtius Decius Mus won his first laurels in the 
Samnite War, when in 343 B.C., while serving as tribtme of the 
scddiers, he rescued the Roman main army from an apparently 
hopeless poaitk>n (Livy vii. 34). In 340, as consul with T. 
Manlitts Torquatus as colleague, he comnianded in the Latin 
War. The decisive battle was fought near Mt Vesuvius. 
Tbe consuls, in consequence of a dream, had agreed that the 
^neral whose troops first gave way should devote himself to 
(festructimi, and so ensure victory. The left wing under Decius 
became disordered, whereupon, repeating after the chief pontiff 
the solemn formula of self-devotion he dashed into the ranks 
of the Latins, and met his death (Livy viii. 9). (2) His son, 
also called Pitbltus, constd for the fourth time in 295, followed 
the cKimf^e of his father at the battle of Scntinum, when the 
left wing which he commanded was shaken by the Gauls (Livy 
z. a8}. The story of the elder Decius is regarded by Mommsen 
as an imhistorical " doublet te " of what is related on better 
authorit y of the son. 

■DIABOS. the name of three Greek poets, (i) The first was 



a mythical seer and priest, the pupil or son of Orpheus, who was 
said to have been the founder of priestly poetry in Attica. 
According to Pausanias (i. 25) he was buried on the Museum hill, 
south-west of the Acropolis. He composed dedicatory and 
purificatory hymns and prose treatises, and oracular responses. 
These were collected and arranged in the time of Pcisistratus 
by Onomacritus, who added interpolations. The mystic and 
oracular verses and customs of Attica, especially of Eleusis, 
are connected with his name (Herod, vii. 6; viiL 96; ix. 43). 
A Tiianomachia and Thcogonia are also attributed to him 
(G. Kinkel, Epicorum graecorum fragmenta, 1878). (2) The 
second was an Ephesian attached to the court of the kings of 
Pergamum, who wrote a Pcrscis, and poems on Eumenes and 
Attains (Suldas, s.v,). (3) The third (called Grammaticus in 
all the MSS.) is of uncertain date, but probably belongs to the 
beginning of the 6th century aj>., as his style and metre are 
evidently modelled after Nonnus. He must have lived before 
Agathias (530-582) and is possibly to be identified with the 
friend of Procopius whose poem (340 hexameter lines) on the 
story of Hero and Leandcr is by far the most beautiful of the age 
(editions by F. Passow, 18 10; G. H. SchUfcr, 1825; C. Dilthey, 
1874). The little love-poem Alpluus and Arclhusa {Anthol. pal. 
iz. 362) is also ascribed to Musacus. 

MUSA KHEL, a Pathan tribe on the Dcra Ghazi Khan border 
of the Punjab province of India. They are of Kakar origin, 
numbering 4670 fighting men. They enter British tcrrilory 
by the Vihowa Pass, and carry on an extensive trade, but are 
not dependent on India for the necessaries of life. They are 
a peaceful and united race, and have been friendly to the British, 
but at enmity with the Khelrans and the Baluch tribes to the 
south of their country. In 1879 the Musa Khcls and other 
Pathan tribes to the number of 5000 made a demonstration 
against Vihowa, but the town was reinforced and they dispersed. 
In 1884 they were punished, together with the Kakars, by the 
Zhob Valley Expedition. 

UUS&US. JOHANN KARL AUGUST (i 735-1 787), German 
author, was born on the 29th of March 1735 at Jena, studied 
theology at the university, and would have become the pastor 
of a parish but for the resistance of some peasants, who objected 
that he had been known to dance. In 1 760 to 1762 he published 
in three volumes his first work, Crandison der Zweiie, afterwards 
(in 1 781-1782) rewritten and issued with a new title, Derdeulsche 
Crandison. The object of this book was to satirize Samuel 
Richardson's hero, who had many sentimental admirers in 
Germany. In 1763 MusSus was made master of the court pages 
at Weimar, and in 1769 he became professor at the Weimar 
gymnasium. His second book — Physiognomischc Rciscn — did not 
appear until 1 778-1 779. It was directed against Lavatcr, and 
attracted much favourable attention. In 1782 to 1786 he 
published his best work VolksmHrchen der DciUscken. Even 
in this series of tales, the substance of which Musaus collected 
among the people, he could not refrain from satire. The stories, 
therefore, lack the simpUcity of genuine folk-lore. In 1785 
was issued Freuttd Heins Erscheinungcn in Holbeins Manier by 
J. R. Schellenberg, with explanations in prose and verse by 
Musfius. A collection of stories entitled Straussfedem, of which 
a volume appeared in 1787, Musaus was prevented from com- 
pleting by his death on the 28th of October 1787. 

The Volksmdrchen have been frequently reprinted (Dlisseldori. 
1903, &c.). They were translated into French in 1844, and three 
of the stories are included in Carlylc's German Romance (1827); 
MusSus's NachgeUusene Serif ten were edited by his relative, A. von 
Kotzcbue (1791). Sec M. Miiller, J. K. A. Musdus (1867), and an 
essay by A. Stem in Beilrdge xur Literalurguchichte des 18. Jakr- 
kunderts (1893). 

MUSCAT, MtTSKAT or Maskat, a town on the south-east 
coast of Arabia, capital of the province of Oman. Its value 
as a naval base is derived from its position, which commands 
the entrance to the Persian Gulf. The town of Gwadar, the 
chief port of Makrin, belongs to Muscat, and by arrangement 
with the sultan the British occupy that port with a telegraph 
station of the Indo-Pcrsian telegraph service. An Indian 
political residency is established at Muscat. In geographical 



4+ 



MUSCATINE— MUSCLE AND NERVE 



position it is isolated from the interior of the continent. The 
mountains rise behind it in a rugged wall, across which no road 
esdsts. It is only from Matrah, a northern suburb shut off by 
an intervening spur which reaches to the sea, that bmd com> 
munication with the rest of Arabia can be maintained. Both 
Muscat and Matrah are defended from incursions on the land- 
ward side by a wall with towers at intervals. Muscat rose to 
importance with the Portuguese occupation of the Persian Gulf, 
and is noted for the extent of Portuguese ruins about it. Two 
lofty forts, of which the most easterly is called JalAli and the 
western Merini, occupy the summits of hills on either side the 
cove ovef looking the town; and beyond them on the seaward 
side are two smaller defensive works called Sirat. All these 
are ruinous. A low sandy isthmus connects the rock and 
fortress of Jal&ll with the mainland, and upon this isthmtis stands 
the British residency. The sultan's palace is a three-storeyed 
building near the centre of the town, a relic of Portuguese 
occupation, caUcd by the Arabs El Jereca, a corruption of 
Igrczia (church). This term b probably derived from the chapel 
once attached to the buildings which formed the Portuguese 
governor's residence and factory. The bazaar is insignificant, 
and its most considerable trade appears to be in a sweetmeat 
prepared from the gluten of maize. Large quantities of dates 
are also exported. 

History. — The early history of Muscat is the history of Portu- 
guese ascendancy in the Persian Gulf. When Albuquerque first 
burnt the place after destroying Kary&t in 1508, Kalhat was 
the chief port of the coast and Muscat was comparatively 
unimportant. Kalhat vas subsequently sacked and burnt, the 
great Arab mosque being destroyed, before Albuquerque returned 
to his ships, " giving many thanks to our Lord." From that 
date, through 114 years of Portuguese ascendancy, Muscat was 
held as a naval station and factory during a period of local 
revolts, Arab incursions, and Turkish invasion by sea; but it 
was not till 1622, when the Portuguese lost Hormuz, that Muscat 
became the headquarters of their fleet and the roost important 
place held by them on the Arabian coast. In 1650 the Portu- 
guese were finally expelled from Oman. Muscat had been 
reduced previously by the humiliating terms imposed upon the 
garrison by the imam of Oman after a siege in 1648. For five 
years the Persians occupied Oman, but they disappeared in 
1 74 1. Under the great ruler of Oman, Said ibn Sultan (1804- 
1856), the fortunes of Muscat attained their zenith; but on his 
death, when his kingdom was divided and the African possessions 
were parted from western Arabia, Muscat declined. In 1883- 
1884, when Turki was sultan, the town was unsuccessfully 
besieged by the Indabayin and Rchbayin tribes, led by Abdul 
Aziz, the brother of Turki. In 1885 Colonel Miles, resident at 
Muscat, made a tour through Oman, following the footsteps of 
Wcllstcd in 1835, and confirmed that traveller's report of 
the fertility and wealth of the province. In 1898 the French 
acquired the right to use Muscat as a coaling station. 

. Sec Stiffe. " Trading Ports of Persian Gulf." vol. ix. Ceot. Jovrnal, 
and the political reports of the Indian eovcrn men t from the Persian 
Gulf. Colonel Milcs's explorations in Oman will be found in vol. vil. 
Ceog. Journal (1896). . (T. H. R*) 

HUSCATINB, a dty and the county-seat of Muscatine county, 
Iowa, U.S.A., on the Mississippi river (here crossed by a wagon 
bridge), at the apex of the '* great bend," in the south-east part 
of the state. Pop. (1890), 11,454; (1900), 14,073, of whom 
3352 were foreign-bom; (19x0 census) X6.178. It is served 
by the Chicago Milwaukee & Saint Paul, the Chicago Rock 
Island & Pacific, and the Muscatine North & South railways. 
It is built on high rocky bluffs, and is the centre of a pearl- 
button industry introduced in 189 1 by J. F. Boepple, a German, 
the buttons being made from the shells of the fresh-water 
mussel found in the neighbourhood; and there are other manu- 
factures. Coal is mined in the vidnity, and near the dty are 
large market-gardens, the water-melons growing on Muscatine 
Island (below the city) and sweet potatoes being their most 
important products. The munidpah'ty owns and operates the 
waterworks. Muscatine began as a trading-post in 1833. It 



was laid out in 1836; incorporated as a town under the name 
of Bloomington in 1839, and first chartered as a dty, under its 
present name, in 185 1. 

UU8CHBLKALK, in geology, the middle member of the 
German Trias. It consists of a series of .calcareous, marly 
and dolomitic beds which lie conformably between the Bunter 
and Keuper formations. The name Muschelkalk (Fr., caicaire 
coquiUier'f cmichylUn, formation of D'Orbigny) indicates a 
characteristic feature in this series, viz. the frequent occurrence 
of lenticular banks composed of fossil shells, remarkable in the 
midst of a singularly barren group. In its typical form the 
Muschelkalk is practically restricted to the Cierman region 
and its immediate neighbourhood; it is found in Thuringia, 
Haiz, Franconia, Hesse, Swabia, and the Saar and Alsace 
districts. Northward it extends into Silesia, Poland and Heligo- 
land. Representatives are found in the Alps, west and south 
of. the Vosges, in Moravia, near Toulon and Montpellier, 
in Spain and Sardinia; in Rumania, Bosnia, Dalmatia, and 
beyond this into Asia in the Himalayas, (^hina, Australia, 
Cidifomia, and in North Africa (Constantine). -From the nature 
of the deposits, as well as from the impoverished fauna, the 
Muschelkalk of the type area was probably laid down within 
a land-locked sea which, in the earlier portion of its existence, 
had only imperfect communications with the more open waters 
of the period. The more remote representatives of the formation 
were of coune deposited in divert conditions, and are only to 
be correlated through the presence of some of the Muschelkalk 
fossils. 

In the '* German " area the Muschelkalk Is from 950-350 ft. 
thick; it is readily divisible into three groups, of which the 
upper and lower are pale thin-bedded limestones with greenish- 
grey marls, the middle group being mainly composed of 
gypsiferous and saliniferotis marb with dolomite, llie Lower 
Muschelkalk cOtasists, from bebw upwards, of the following 
rocks, the ochreous Wellen Dolomit, lower Wellen Kalk, upper 
Wellcn Kalk (so called on account of the wavy character of the 
bedding) with beds of " Schaumkalk " (a porous cellular lime- 
stone), and Oolite and the Orbicularis beds (with liyopkaria 
orbicttlaris). In the Saar and Alsace districts and north Eifd, 
these beds take on a sandy aspect, the " Muschdsandstein." 
The Middle Muschelkalk or Anhydrite group, as ahready indi- 
cated, consists mainly of marls and dolomites with beds of 
anhydrite, gypsum and salt. The salt beds are worked at 
Hall, Frieidrichshall, Heilbronn, Stettin and Erfurt. It is from 
this division that many of the mineral springs of Thuringia and 
south Germany obtain their saline contents. The cellular 
nature of ' mudi of the dolomite has given rise to- the term 
" ZeUendolomit." The Upper Muschelkalk {Hauptmusckelkalk, 
PriedrickshaUkalk of von Albcrti) consists of regular beds of 
shelly limestone alternating with beds of mari. The lower 
portion or *' Trochitenkalk " is often composed entirely of the 
fragmentary stems of Encrinus liliiformis; higher up come the 
"Nodosus" beds with Ceratites compressus, C. wdcsus, and 
C. semipartitus in ascending order. In Swabia and Franconia 
the highest beds are phity dobmites with Tringonedus Sander^ 
gensis and the crustacean Bairdia, Stylolites are common in 
all the Muschelkalk limestones. The Alpine Muschelkalk differs 
in many respects from that of the type area, and shows a doser 
relationship with the Triassic Mediterranean sea; the more 
important local phases will be found tabulated in the artide 
Trias. 

In addition to the fosals meintloncd above, the folk>wing are 
.Muschdkalk forms: Terdtratuliua m/fom, Spiriferina Mantwdi 
and 5. hirsula, Myophoria vulgaris, RkynckoUtes htnmdo, Ceratites 
MUnsteri, Ptychites studeri, BeJatonites balatonicus, Aspidura scutH' 
lata, Daoneua Lommeli, and In the Alpine region several. rock- 
forming Algae, Bactr^ium, Cyropordla, Diphpcra, &c 

(J. A. H.) 

MUSCLE AND NERVE {Physiology)} Among the properties 
of living material there is one, widely though not universally 
present in it, which forms the pre-eminent characteristic 9i 

* The anatomy of the muscles is dealt with under Muscular 
System, and of the nerves under NsavB and Nbrvous System. 



MUSCLE AND NERVE 



45 



nKBCDlar cdfa. Tlus property b the libentloa of some of 
the enefsy contained in the chemical compounds of the cells 
^ , in such a way as to give mechanical woik. The 
mechanical work is obtained by movement resulting 
from a cJiange, it is supposed, in the elastic tension of the 
framework of the living oeU. In the fibrils existing in the 
cdl a sudden alteration of elasticity occurs, resulting in an 
increased tension on the points of attxurhment of the cell to the 
ndi^booring elements of the tissue in which the cell is placed. 
These jrield under the strain, and the cell shortens between 
those points of its attachment. This shortening is called 
conlracium. But the volume of the cell is not 
appreciably altered, despite the change of its shape, 
lor its one diameter increases in proportion as its- 
otho" IS diminished. The manifestations of contractility by 
musde are variota in mode. By tonic contraction is meant 
a prolonged and equable state of tension which yields under 
analysis no dement of intermittent character. This b mani- 
fested t^ the muscular walls of the hollow viscera and of the 
heart, where it is the expression of a continuous liberation of 
eixtgy in process in the muscular tissue, tho outcome of the 
Jatter's own intrinsic Ufe, and largely independent of any con- 
nexion with the nervous system. The musoxlar wall of the 
blood-vessels also exhibits tonic contraction, which, however, 
seems to be mainly traceable to a continual excitation of the 
musde cells by nervous influence conveyed to them along their 
nerves, and originating in the great vaso motor centre in the bulb. 
In the ordinary striped muscles of the skdietal musculature, e.g. 
gastrocnemius, tonic contraction obtains; but this, like the last 
mentioned, b not autochthonous in the muscles themselves; it 
b indirect and neural, and appears to be maintained reflexly. 
The receplioe organs of the muscular sense and of the semi- 
circular canab are to be regarded as the sites of origin of thb 
wefiex tonus of the skeletal muscles. Striped muscles possessing 
an autochthonous tonus appear to be the various sphincter 



Another mode of manifestation of contractility by musaes 
b the rkytitmic. A tendency to rhjrthmic contraction seems dis- 
coverable in almost all muscles. In some it b very marked, for 
examf^ in some viscera, the spleen, the bladder, the ureter, the 
ntenis, the intestine, and especially in the heart. In several of 
these it appears not unlikely that the recurrent explosive libera- 
tions of energy in the muscle tissue are not secondary to recurrent 
explosions in nerve celb, but are attributable to decompositions 
arising sua sponU in the chemical substances of the muscle celb 
themselves in the course of their living. Even small strips of 
the maade of the heart, if taken immediately after the death of 
the animal, continue, when kept mobt and warm and supplied 
with oxygen, to " beat " rhythmically for hours. Rhythmic 
CQotractioa b also characteristic of certain groups of dceletal 
raiacles, e.^* the respiratory. In these the rhythmic activity b, 
however, deariy secondary to rhythmic discharges of the nerve 
oEfli constituting the respiratory centre in the bulb. Such 
&charges descend the nerve fibres of the spinal cord, and through 
the intermediation of various spinal nerve celb excite the 
respiratory mosdes through their motor nerves. A form of 
oootraction intermedbte in character between the tonic and 
the rhythmic b met in the auridc of the heart of the toad. . There 
ibwiy successive phases of increased and of diminished tonus 
Rgnbily alternate, and upon them are superposed the rhythmic 

* beats " of the pulsating heart. 

"The beat," f.«. the short-lasting explosive contraction of 
the heart misde, can be eh'dted by a single, even momentary, 
ai^ilicatioo of a stimulus, e.g. by an induction shock. Similarly, 
aufa a sio^ stimulus elidts from a skeletal musde a single 

* beat," or, as it b termed, a " twitch." In the heart muscle 
Effing a brief period after each beat, that b, after each 
SB^ contraction of the rhythmic series, the musde becomes 
■KKxtsMr. It cannot then be exdted to contract by any 
•eeat, tbongli the inexcitable period b more brief for strong 
this for weak stimuli But in the skdetal, voluntary or 
ttxiped musdes a second stimulus succeeding a previous so 



fijrdir- 



quickly as to fall even during the continuance of the contraction 
exdted by a first, elidts a second contraction. Thb second 
contraction starts from whatever phase of previous contraction 
the musde may have reached at the time. A third stimulus 
exdtes a third additional contraction, a fourth a fourth, and so 
on. The increments of contraction become, however, less and 
less, unto the succeeding stimuli serve merely to maintain, not 
to augment, the exbting degree of contraction. We arrive thus 
by synthesb at a summation of " beats " or of simple contrac> 
tions in the compound, or " tetanic," or summed contraction of 
the skeletal muscles. The tetanic or summed contractions are 
more extensive than the simple, both in space and time, and 
liberate more energy, both as mechanical work and heat. The 
tension devdoped by their means in the musde is many times 
greater than that devdoped by a simple twitch. 

Musde celb respond by changes in thdr activity to changes 
in their environment, and thus are said to be "exdtable." 
They are, however, less exdtable than are the nerve 
celb which innervate them. The change which 
exdtes them b termed, a stimulus. "Oit least 
stimulus which suffices to exdte b known as the stimulus of 
threshold value. In the case of the heart musde thb threshold 
stimulus evokes a beat as extensive as does the strongest 
stimulus; that b, the intensity of the stimulus, so long as it 
b above threshold value, b not a function of the amount of the 
muscular response. But in the ordinary skdetal muscles the 
amount of the muscular contraction b for a short range of 
quantities* of stimulus (of above threshold value) proportioned 
to the intensity of the stimulus and increases with it. A value 
of stimulus, however, b soon reached which evokes a maximal 
contraction. Further increase of contraction does not follow 
further increase of the intensity of the stimultis above that 
point 

Just as in a nerve fibre, when exdted by a localized stimulus, 
the exdted state spreads from the exdted point to the adjacent 
unexdted ones, so in musde the " contraction," when excited 
at a point, ^reads to the adjacent uncontracted parts. Both 
in musde and in nerve this spread b termed conduction. 
It b propagated along the musde fibres of the skeletal musdes 
at a rate of about 3 metres per second. In the heart muscle 
it traveb much more slowly. The dbturbance traveb as a 
wave of contraction, and the whole extent of the wave-h'ke 
dbturbance measures in ordinary musdes much more than the 
whole-length of any single musde fibre. That the exdted state 
spreads only to previously unexdted portions of the musde 
fibre shows that even in the skeletal variety of musde there 
exists, though only for a very brief time, a period of inexcitability. 
The duration of thb period b about j^ of a second in skeletal 
musde. 

When musde that has remained inactive for some time b 
exdted by a series of single and equal stimuli succeeding at 
intervab too prolonged to cause summation the succeeding 
contractions exhibit progressive increase up to a certain degree. 
The tenth contraction usually exhibits the culmination of this 
so-called "staircase effect." The explanation may lie in the 
production of COt in the musde. That substance, in small 
doses, favours the contractile power of musde. The musde 
b a machine for utilizing the energy contained in its own chemical 
compounds. It b not surprising that the chemical substances 
produced in it by the decomposition of its living material should 
not be of a nature indifferent for muscular life. We find that 
if the series of excitations of the musde be prolonged beyond 
the short stage of initial improvement, the contractions, after 
being well maintained for a time, later decline in force and 
speed, and ultimately dwindle even to vanishing point. This 
decline b said to be due to muscular fatigue. The musde 
recovers on being allowed to rest unstimulated for a while, 
and more quickly on being washed with an, innocuous but non- 
nutritious solution, such as -6%, NaG in water. The washing 
Seems to remove excreta of the musde's own production, and 
the period of repose removes them perhaps by diffusion, perhaps 
by breaking them down into innocuous material. Since the 



46 



MUSCLE AND NERVE 



musde produces lactic adds during activity, it has been sug- 
gested that acids are among tlie "fatigue substances" with 
which muscle poisons itself when deprived of circulating blood. 
Muscles when active seem to pour into the circulation substances 
which, of unknown chemical composition, are physiologically 
recognizable by their stimulant action on the respiratory nervous 
centre. The effect of the fatigue substances upon the contrac- 
tion of the tissue is manifest especially in the relaitation process. 
The contracted sute, instead of rapidly subsiding after dis- 
continuance of the stimulus, slowly and only partially wears 
off, the muscle remaining in a condition of physiological 
"contracture." The alkaloid veratrin has a similar effect 
upon the contraction of muscle; it enormously delays the 
return from the contracted state, as also does epinephrin, an 
alkaloid extracted from the suprarenal ^nd. 

Nervous System.— The work of Camillo Golgi (Pavia, 1885 
and onwards) on the minute structure of the nervous system has 
led to great alteration of doctrine in neural phy»- 
ology. It had been held that the branches of the 
nerve cells, that is to say, the fine nerve fibres— 
since all nerve fibres are nerve cell branches, and all nerve cell 
branches are nerve fibres — which form a close felt-work in the 
nervous centres, there combined into a network actually con- 
tinuous throughout. This conlinuum was held to render possible 
conduction in all directions throughout the grey matter of the 
whole nervous system. The fact that conduction occurred 
preponderantly in certain directions was explained by appeal 
to a hypothetical resistance to conduction which, for reasons 
unascertained, lay less in some directions than in others. The 
intricate felt-work has by Golgi been ascertained to bo a mere 
interlacement, not an actual anastomosis network; the branches 
springing from the various cells remain lifelong unattached and 
unjoined to any other than their own individual cell. Each 
neuron or nerve cell is a morphologically distinct and discrete 
unit connected functionally but not structurally with its neigh- 
bours, and leading its own life independently of the destiny of 
its neighbours. Among the properties 6f the neuron is con- 
ductivity in all directions. But when neurons are linked together 
it is found that nerve impulses will only pass from neuron A to 
neuron B, and not from neuron B to neuron A; that is, the 
transmission of the excited state or nervous impulse, although 
possible in each neuron both up and down its own cell branches, 
is possible from one nerve cell to another in one direction only. 
That direction is the direction in which the nerve impulses 
flow under the conditions of natural life. The synapse, therefore, 
as the place of meeting of one neuron with the next is called, 
is said to valve the nerve circuits. This determinate sense 
of the spread is called the law of forward direction. The synapse 
appears to be a weak spot in the chain of conduction, or rather 
to be a place which breaks down with comparative ease under 
stress, e.g. imder effect of poisons. The axons of the motor 
neurons are, inasmuch as they are nerve fibres in nerve trunks, 
easily accessible to artificial stimuli. It can be demonstrated 
that they are practically indefatigable — repeatedly stimulated 
by electrical currents, even through many hours, they, unlike 
muscle, continue to respond with unimpaired reaction. 
rl3ii**r*^ ^^^ ^ ^^ muscular contraction is taken as index 
of the re^Mnse of the nerve, it is found that unmis- 
takable signs of fatigue appear even very soon after commence- 
ment of the excitation of the nerve, and the muscle ceases 
to give any contraction in response to stimuli applied indirectly to 
it -through iu nerve. But the muscle will, when exdted directly, 
e.g. by direct application of electric currents, contract vigorously 
after all response on its part to the stimuli (nerve impulses) 
applied to it indirectly through its nerve has failed. The 
inference is that the "fatigue substances "generated in the 
muscle fibres in the course of their prok>nged contraction injure 
and paralyse the motor end plates, which are places of synapsis 
between nerve cell and muscle cell, even earlier than they harm 
the contractility of the muscle fibres themselves. The alkak>id 
curarin causes motor paralysis by attacking in a selective way 
this junction of motor nerve cell and striped muscular fibre. 



Non-myelinate nerve fibres are as resistant to fatigue as are 
the myelinate. 

The neuron is described as having a cell body or perikaryon 
from which the cell branches--<iendrites and axon— extend, 
and it is this perikaryon which, as its name implies, 
contains the nuckus. It forms the trophic centre of ^Simt 
the cell, just as the nucleus-containing part of every 
cell is the trophic centre of the whole cell. Any part of the cell 
cut off from the nudeus^ontaining part dies down: this is as 
true of nerve cells as of amoeba, and in regard to the neuron 
it constitutes what is known as the Walterian degeneration. 
On the other hand, in some neurons, after severance of the axon 
from the rest of the cell (spinal motor cell), the whole ner\'e 
cell as well as the severed axon degenerates, and may eventu- 
ally die and be removed. In the severed axon the degenera- 
tion b first evident in a breaking down of the naked nerve 
filaments of the motor end plate. A Utile later the breaking 
down of the whole axon, both axis cyUnder and myelin sheath 
alike, seems to occur simultaneously throughout its entire 
length distal to the place of severance. The complex fat of 
the myelin becomes altered chemically, while the other com- 
ponents of the sheath break down. This death of the sheath as 
well as of the axis cylinder shows that it, Uke the axis cylinder, 
is a part of the nerve cell itself. 

In addition to the trophic influence exerted by each part 
of tlie neuron on its other parts, notably by the perikaryon 
on the cell branches, one neuron also in many instances in> 
fluenccs the nutrition of other neurons. When, for instance, 
the axons of the ganglion cells of the retina are severed by 
section of the optic nerve, and thus their influence upon the 
nerve cells of the visual cerebral centres is set aside, the nerve 
ceUs of those centres undergo secondary atrophy (Gadden's 
4Urophy). They dwindle in sixe; they do not, however, die. 
Similarly, when the axons of the motor spinal cells are by 
severance of the nerve trunk of a muscle broken through, the 
muscle cells undergo " degeneration " — dwindle, become fatty, 
and alter almost beyond recognition. This trophic influence 
which one neuron exerts upon others, or upon the cells of aa 
extrinsic tissue, such as muscle, is exerted in that 
direction which is the one normally taken by the JjJ^^^ 
natural nerve impulses. It seems, especially in a^mmm. 
the case of the nexus between certain neurons, 
that the influence, loss of which endangers nutrition, is associ- 
ated with the occurrence of something more than merely the 
nervous impulses awakened from time to time in the leading 
nerve cell. The wave of cbange (nervous impulse) induced 
in a neuron by advent of a stimulus is after all only a sudden 
augmentation of an activity continuous within the neuron — 
a transient accentuation of one (the disintegrative) phase, of 
the metabolism inherent in and inseparable from its life. The 
nervous impulse is, so to say, the sudden evanescent glow of an 
ember continuously black-hot. A continuous lesser " change " 
or stream of changes sets through the neuron, and is distributed 
by it to other neurons in the same direction and by the same 
ftynapses as are iu nerve impulses. This gentle continuous 
activity of the neuron is called its tonus. In tracing the tonus 
of neurons to a source, one is always led link by link against 
the current of nerve force— so to say, " up stream " — to the 
first beginnings of the chain of neurons in the sensifadent surfaces 
of the body. From these, as in the eye, ear, and other sense 
organs, tonus is constantly . initiated. Hence, when cut off 
from these sources, the nutrition of the neurons of various 
central mechanisms suffers. Thus the tonus of the motor 
neurons of the spinal cord is much lessened by rupture of the 
great afferent root cells which normally play upon them. 
A prominent and practically important illustration of neural 
tonus is given by the skeletal musdes. These musdes exhibit 
a certain constant condition of slight contraction, which dis- 
appears on severance of the nerve that innervates the muscle« 
It is a muscular tonus of central source consequent on 
the continual glow of exdtement in the spinal motor neuron » 
whose outgoing end plays upon the musde cells, whose ingoing 



MUSCLE AND NERVE 



47 



cad is played upoo by other neurons— spinal, cerebral and 
ociebellar. 

It b with the neural dement of muscle tonus that Undon pheno- 
mtna axe imimatdy aHodated. The earliest-studied of these, the 
" kmu-jerk" may serve as example of the dass. It is a brief ex< 
tcnsioa of the limb at the kiiee*joint, due to a simple contraction of 
tbe extensor mmde, didted by a tap or other short mechanical 
stimulus applied to the musde fibres through the tendon of the 
moKle. Inie jerk is obtainable only from musde fibres pooessed 
of neural toousL If the sensory nerves of the extensor musde be 
srvertd. the " jerk ** is lost. The brevity of the interval between 
tbe tap on the knee and the beginning oi the resultant contraction 
cf tbe mnsde seems such as to exclude the possibility of reflex 
de%-dopment. A little experience in observations on the knee-jerk 
impofts a notion of tbe average strength of tbe "jerk." wide 
departures from tbe normal standard are met with and are sympto- 
cutic of certain nervous conditions. Stretching of the muscles 
antaeonistjc to the extensors — namdy, of the flexor muscles— 
rrducrs tbe jerk bv inhibiting the extensor spiiud nerve cdls through 
tbe nervous impulses generated by the tense flexor muscles. Hence 
a favourable pcMture cil the limb for elidting the jerk is one ensuring 
idaxation cf the hamstring muscles, as when tbe leg has been 
cixMsed upon the other. In sleep the jerk is diminished, in deep 
skep quite abolished. Extreme bodily lati^e diminishes it. Con- 
vcrsdy. a ctAd bath increases it. The turning of attention towards 
tbe knee interferes with tbe terk; hence the device of directing the 
penoQ to perform vigorously some movement, which does not 
involve tbe muscles of the lower limb, at the moment when the 
Eeht blow is dealt upon the tendon. A slight degree of contraction 
Ql musde seems the subitratum of all attention. The direction of 
attention to the p e rf o r mance of some movement by the arm ensures 
that l o osenes s and freedom from tension in the thigh muscles which 
is essential tor the provocation of the jerk. The motor cdls of 
tbe extensor muscles, when preoccupied by cerebral influence, 
appear refractory. T. Ziehen has noted exaltatMU of the jerk to 
follow extirpation of a cortical centre. 

Altboosh the cell body or perikaryon of the neuron, with 
its coDla^ied nucleus, is essential for the maintenance of the 
life of the cell branches, it has become recognized 
that the actual process and function of "con- 
duction '' in many neurons can, and does, go on 
without the cell body bdng directly concerned in the conduction. 
S. Exner first showed, many years ago, that the nerve impulse 
travels through the spinal ganglion at the same speed as along 
the other parts of the nerve trunk— that is, that it suffers no 
dr!ay in transit through the petikarya of the afferent root- 
cruronsw Bethe has succeeded in isolating their perikarya 
from certain of the afferent neurons of the antennulc of 
Carctmus. The coiuluction through the amputated cell branches 
continues unimpaired for many hours. This indicates that 
the conjunction between .the conducting substance of the 
doidrons and thdt of the axon can be effected without the 
ictermediation of the cell body. But the proper nutntion 
of the conducting substance is indissolubly dependent on the 
cdl branches being in continuity with the cell body and nucleus 
it contains. Evidence Olustrating this nexus is found In the 
v^iUe dsanges produced in the perikaryon by prolonged 
activity induced and maintained in the conducting branches 
of tbe cell. As a result the fatigued cells appear shrunken , 
tod their reaction to staining reagents alters, thus showing 
chemical alteration. Most marked is the decrease in the 
vohunc of the nudetis, amounting even to 44% of the initial 
vdume. In the myelinated cell branches of the neuron, that 
is. in the ordinary nerve fibres, no visible change has ever been 
dexaoDstTAted as the result of any normal activity, however 
ireat— a striking contrast to the observations obtained on 
the pcfikarya. The chemical changes that accompany activity 
io the nerve fibre must be very small, for the production of 
COfe is barely measurable, and no production of heat is 
observable as the result of the most forced tetanic activity. 

The nerve cells of the higher vertebrata, unlike their blood 
cdh, their connective tissue cells, and even their muscle cells, 
early, and indeed in embryonic life, lose power of 
multiplication. The number of them formed is 
definitely closed at an early period of the individual 
Ue. Ahhough, unlike so many other cells, thus early sterile for 
rrpnxiuaton of thdr kind, they retain for longer than most cells 
a hi«fa power of individual growth. They cootiooe to grow, and 



to thrust out new branches and to lengthen existing branches, 
for many years far into adult life. They simiUirly possess power 
to repair and to regenerate their cell branches where these are 
injured or destroyed by trauma or disease. This is the explana- 
tion of the repair of nerve trunks that have been severed, with 
consequent degeneration of the peripheral nerve fibres. As a 
rule, a longer time is required to restore the motor than the 
sensory functions of a nerve trunk. 

Whether examined by functional or by structural features, 
the conducting paths of the nervous system, traced from 
beginning to end, never termifuUe in the centres of 
that system, but pass through them. All ultimatdy 
emerge as efferent channels. Every efferent 
channd, after entrance in the central nervous system, sub- 
divides; of its subdivisions some pass to efferent channek 
soon, others pass further and further within the cord and brain 
before they finally reach channels of outlet. All the longest 
routes thus formed traverse late in thdr course the cortex of 
the cerebral hemisphere. It is this rdativdy huge development 
of cortex cerebri which b the pre-eminent structural character 
of man. This means that the number of "longest routes" 
in man is, as compared with lower animals, disproportionately 
great. In the lower animal forms there is no such nervous 
struaiure at all as the cortex cerebri. In the frog, lizard, and 
even bird, it is thin and poorly developed. In the marsupials 
it is more evident, and its exdtation by dectric currents evokes 
movements' in the musculature of the crossed side of the body. 
Larger and thicker In the rabbit, when excited it gives rise in 
that animal to movements of the eyes and of the fore-limbs 
and neck; but it is only in much higher types, such as the 
dog, that the cortex yields, under experimental exdtation, 
definitely localized fod, whence can be evoked movements 
of the fore-limb, hind-limb, neck, eyes, ears and face. In 
the monkey the proportions it assumes are still greater, and 
the number of fod, for distinct movements of this and that 
member, indeed for the individual joints of each limb, are 
much more numerous, and together occupy a more extensive 
surface, though relatively to the total surface of the brain a 
smaller one. 

Experiment shows that in the manlike (anthropoid) apes the 
differentiation of the fod or "centres " of movement in the motor 
field of the cortex is even more minute. In them areas are found 
whence stimuli exdte movements of this or that finger alone, 
of the upper lip without the lower, of the tip only of the tongue, 
or of one upper eyelid by itself. The movement evoked from 
a point of cortex is not always the same; its character is 
determined by movements evoked from neighbouring points 
of cortex immediately antecedently. Thus a point A will, when 
excited soon subsequent to point B, which latter yields pro- 
trusion of lips, itself yield lip-protrusion, whereas if exdtcd 
after C, which yields lip-retraction, it will itself yield lip-retrac- 
tion. The movements obtained by point-to-point excitation 
of the cortex are often evidently imperfect as compared with 
natural movemcntsr— that is, are only portions of complete 
normal movements. Thus among the tongue movements 
evoked by stigmatic stimulation of the cortex undeviated 
protrusion or retraction of the organ is not found. Again, 
from different points of the cortex the assumption of the 
requisite positions of the tongue, lips, cheeks, palate and 
epiglottis, as components in the act of sucking, can be pro- 
voked singly. Rarely can the whole action be provoked, and 
then only gradually, by prolonged and strong excitation 
of one of the requisite points, e.g. that for the tongue, with 
which the other points are functionally connected. Again, 
no single point in the cortex evokes the act of ocular converg- 
ence and fixation. All this means that the execution of natural 
movements employs simultaneous co-operative activity of a 
number of points in the motor fields on both sides of the brain 
together. 

The accompanying simple figure indicates better than any 
verbal description the topography of the main groups of foci 
in the motor field of a manlike ape (chimpanzee). It will be 



MUSCLE AND NERVE 



noted Inin' 




eilent ol 


t coiticil 


m and the mus of miada wbich il 




Thimuaol 


miuda in Ibe Imnk it greiler Ihui in lb 


^.Zid 


iQ ihe leg ii giealn Ibio in t be km, and in tbe ann it m 




Cruter thu 


in the fice and he«d; y«< lor Ibe lul ih 




area it the 


rn«t eitenijve of tU, and lor tbe fint 


nuned ii 


the Eeul ei 


eniiveolBlL 




Themolo 


r field ol the coRei is, Uken iltORelher, 


nlElively 


totheiiuo 


the lower put. o( tbe bt»in, Ufget iB Ibe » 


Ihropoid 


tbu in llw iateriiK monker bnios. But in Ihe anthropoid 




AMiwJ*-* 









si mOK ud more with fibm that ai* fully 
bcginnini of iti hisloiy each is unprovided 
'e fibre*. Tbe excitable foci ot tbe cetebol 
'eil myelinated long beloie Ihe unaduble are u, 
Tbe legioai of the coriei, whoK conduciioD path* an early 
completed, may be arranged in groups by their (smieiioitt 
wiib sense-oiBUS: eye-region, ear-iegion, ikin and lomaeslbelic 
region, oliaclory »nd taate region. The areas of intervening 
coitei, arriving at structural completion later than the «bove 
intic-iflura. are ciLed by some asiodaliim-iflurii, to indicate 
the view thai they contain the neuiil mechanisms ol 
reactions {some have said " ideas ") associaled with 
perceptions elaborated in ibe several sens^ 



LOT reactions ol the ladal aj 
Es are regularly and easily 
lis region is often called the 



disturbance ol sensation, as welt ai 
ditturbaoce of movement, is often incurred by iti 
injury. Patients in irhom, lor purposes ol diagnosis, 
it has been electrically eidted, describe, as the 
initial effect of the stimulation, tlnghug and obscure 
but locally-limited sensations, referred to the part 

movement of the eyeballs, elicited from 
(visualt CI 



tic). I 






T^OE^ram of the Topography of tbe M_.. _. 

brain still m 

St field, whici . 
movements under electric eidtalion, and are lor thai 
knownas"sileni." The motor Geld, tbetelorc. though it 
larger, forms a smaller fraction ot tt " ' ' 



Field nature of tl 






. Then 









ir fields of the 



groups 
themselves separated 
rounding ineicitable cortei, ba) been made and was one ol 
great interest, but has not been confirmed by subsequent 
otocrvalion. That in man the eidtable foci of tbe motor 
field are islanded in eicitable tuiface similarly and even more 
eitensively, was a rulural inference, but il had its chief basis 
in the observations on Ihe orang, Da» known to be ermneous. 

In tbe diagram there ii indicated tbe litualioo of [he cortical 
centres for movement ol the vocal cords. Their situation is 
at tbe lower end ol the rnotoi field. That they should lie 
there is interesting, because that place is close to one knawn 



Hiated with n 



)[ Ihe 



concerned in speech. When [hat area in man is injured, the 
alntity to utter words is impaired. Not that [here il paralysis 
of (be muscles of speech, since these muscles can be used perfectly 
for an acts other than speech. The area in man is known as 
the ontor centre for speech; in most persona it exists only in 
the left half of the brain and not in tbe right. In a similar way 
damage of a certain small portion ol the temporal lobe of tbe 
brain produces loss of intelligent apprehension of words spoken, 
although there is no deafness and although words seen are 
perlectly apprehended- Another re^on, " the angular region," 
is similaily related to intelligent apprdiension ol words sent, 
though not of words tcord. 

When this diSerentiation ot cnrtei, with It) highest eiprts- 
■loD In man, is collated with tbe development ol the conei 
as studied In Ihe sutEcisive phase* of its growth and n'pening 
fn the batmn infant, a suggestive analogy is obvious. The 
■ovoin palbs Id the bnin and coid, as ibey attain completion. 



n the ai 



; of these phenomena tbe cor 
. In the dog it has been proi 






> ot g 



ot it 



implexity 



idjujlment of n 
It can walk, run and feed; such an animal, on wounding its 
toot, will run on three legs, as will a normal dog under similar 
mischance. But signs ol associative memory are slmoit, if 
not entirely, wanting. Througbaut three years such a dog 
failed to leam that Ihe attendant's lifting it from the cage at  
certain hour was Ihe preliminary circumstance ol tbe feeding- 
hour; yet It did eihibii hung«, sod would refuse further load 
when a sufficiency had been taken. In man, actually gmsa 
sensory defects loUow even limited lewins of the corlei. Tbua 
the rabbit and the dog are not absolutely Minded by removal 
ol tbe entire cortex, but in man destruction ot the occipital 
coitex produces tolsl blindness, even to the extent that the 
pufnl ot the eye does not respond when light, is flashed into 

n by tbe method of Walleiian 
I large Dumber ol spinal and 
s up into il. Tbesec 



Dral hemisphere- From the organ there emerge fibres 
h cross to the opposite red nucleus, and directly or 
-ecily reach the thalamic region of the crossed hemi- 
n. Tbe pons ot middle peduncle. which'waiRgardedr 



MUSCLE AND NERVE 



49 



on the iincatain gnmnd of naked-eye dtssection of buman 
uutomy, as comiidasanl between the two lateral lohea of 
the ccrdwllom, is now known to constitute chiefly a cerebro- 
cerefaeOar decussating path. Certain cerebellar ceDs send 
pnoesies down to the cell-group* in the bulb known as the 
oadeus of Dciters, which latter projects fibres down the 
qjinal oofd. Whether there is any other or direct emergent 
path from the cerebdlum into the qnnal cord is a matter 
oo whkh opinion is divided. 

Injuries of the cerebdlum, if large, derange the power of 
executing movements, without producing any detectable 
denngement of sensation. The derangement gradually dis- 
appears, unless the damage to the organ be very wide. A 
ledlng gait, oscillations of the body which impart a zigzag 
&ectkm to the walk, difficulty in standing, owing to unsteadi- 
ness of fiflob, are common in cerebellar disease. On the other 
kand, coiKgenital defect amounting to absence of one cerebellar 
hesB^ihere has been found to occasion practically no symptoms 
vfaatioever. Not a hundredth part of the cerebellum has 
lemsined, afid jtX, there has eadsted ability to stand, to walk, to 
handle and lift objects in a faidy normal way, without any trace 
of impairxxient of cutaneous or muscular sensitivity. The 
damage to the cerebdOnm must, it would seem, occur abruptly or 
^nckiy in order to occasion marked derangement of function, 
ttd then tbe derangement falls on the execution of movements. 
One aspect ol this derangement, named by Ludani astasia, 
a a txeosor heightened by or only spearing when the musdes 
enter opoo actSoor-" intention tremor." Vertigo is a frequent 
Rsolt of cexebeOar injury: animals indicate it by their actions; 
psttfnts describe it. To interpret this vertigo, i^peal must 
be made to disturbances, other than cerebellar, which like- 
vise ocnwion vertigo. These indude, besides ocular squint, 
■any spatial positions and movements unwonted to the body: 
the looking feum a height, the ^ding over ice, sea-travel, to 
some persons even travelling by train, or the covering of one 
eye. Co— ***»*>" to all these conditions is the synchronous rise 
of perceptions of spatial relations between the self and the 
0n ^.inMM^^^^nt whlch hsvo uot, OT tuive rardy, before arisen in 
syncfaroDOUS oombinatioiL The tactual organs of the soles, and 
the muacoiar sense organs of limbs and trunk, are originating 
percq>tions tha.t indicate that the self is standing on the 
soiid earth, yet the eyes are at the same time originating 
peroqitioiia that iiuUcate that, the solid earth is far away 
bcknr the sfanding self. The combination is hard to hannonize 
at first; it is at least not given as itmatdy harmonised. Per- 
ceptioos regarding the "me" are notoriously highly diarged 
«^ " feeCng," and the conflict occasions the feeling insuffi- 
deitly described as "giddiness." The cerebellum recdves 
paths from most, if not from all, of the afferent roots. With 
certain of these it stands associated most dosdy, namely, 
-viih the vcstibolar, representing the sense-organs which fumisk 
data fax appxtdztjon of positions and movements of the head, 
aai.witb the rtiannrh, conveying centripetal impressions from 
the apparatns of skdetal movement. Disorder of the tere- 
beOam sets at variance, brings discord into, the 8pace*percep- 
tims ouitxibutory to the moyement The body's movement 
beocntcs thus imperfectly adjusted to the spatial requirements 
of the set it would perform. 

In the physicdogical basts of sense exist many impressions 
vhkh, apart from and devoid of psychical accompaniment, 
TdSafy infiocnce motor (muscular) iniusvation. It is with 
Uns sort of hahitnaUy apsychical reaction that the cerebellum 
h, it would seem, employed. That it is apparently devoid of 
psyducal concomitant need not imply that the impressions 
oiiiccnxd in it are crude and indaborate. The seeming want 
of reaction of so mudi of the cerebeUar structure imder aritifidal 
stimslatjoo, and the complex rday system revealed In the 
histokigy of the cerebdlimi, suggest tluit the impressbns are 
daborate. Its reacti6n preponderantly hdps to secure co* 
sn£nate innervatioii of the skdetal musculature, both for 
■axnteoance of attitude and for execution of movements. 

Skep. — ^Ihe more obvious of the characters of sleep (j.v.) are 

AK 2 



essentially nervous. In deep sleep the threshold-value of the 
stimuli for the various senses is very greatly raised, rising 
rapidly during the first hour<and a half of sleq>, and then declining 
with gradually decreasing decrements. The musdes become less 
tense than in thdr waking state: their tonus is diminished, the 
upper eyelid falls, and the knee-jerk is in abeyance. The 
respiratory rhythm is less frequent and the breathing leas dwp; 
the heart-beat is leas frequent; the secretions are las copious; 
the pupil is narrow ; in the brain there exists arterial anarmia with 
venous congestion, so that the blood-flow there is less than in the 
waking state. 

It has been suggested that the gradual cumulative result 
of the activity of the nerve cells during the waking day is to 
load the bndn tissue with "fatigue-substances" 
which dog the action of the ceDs, and thus periodi- 
cally produce^ that loss of consdousness, &c., which 
is sleq>. Such a drugging of tissue by its own excreta is known 
in muscular fatigue, but the fact that the depth of sleep progres- 
sivdy incresses for an hour and more after its onset prevents 
complete explanation of sleq> on similar lines. It has been 
urged that the neurons retract during sleep, and that thus at the 
synapses the gap between nerve cdl and nerve cdi becomes 
wider, or that the supportmg ceDs expand between the nerve 
cdls and tend to isolate the latter one from the other. Certainitis 
that in the course of the waking day a great, number of stimuli 
play on the sense organs, and through these produce disintegra- 
tion of -the living molecules of the central nervous system. 
Hence during the day the assimilatory processes of these cells 
are overbalanced by their wear and tear, and the end-result is 
that the cdl attidns an atomic condition leas favourable to 
further disintegration than to reintegration. That phase of 
cell life which we are accustomed to call " active " is aooompanied 
always by disintegration. When In the cdi the aasfmilativo 
processes exceed dissimilative, the estbmal manifestations of 
energy are h'able to cease or diminish. Sleep is not exhaustion 
of the neuron in the sense t|iat prolonged activity haa reduced 
its exdtability to aero. The nerve cdl just prior to sleep is still 
wdl capable of response to stimuli, although perhaps the thres- 
hold-value of the stimulus has become rather high, whereas after 
entrance upon sleep and continuance of s]eq> for several hours, 
and more, when aU spur to the dissimilation process has been 
long wlthhdd, the threshold-valuft of the sensory stimulus 
becomes enormously higher than before. The ezdtiog cause 
of deep Is therefore no complete exhaustion of the availaUe 
material of the cdls, nor is it entlrdy any paralysing of them by 
their excreta. It is more probably abqruice of extcnial function 
during a periodic internal asaimHatory phase. 



Two pr o cciaea ooDJotn to initiate the asBtmilatory phase. There 
is dose intetcoonexion between the two aspects ol the double 
activity that in physiological theory constitute the chemical life of 
protoplasm, between diwiintlation and aasimilatloa. Hering has 
long insisted on a sdf-regu!ative adjustment of the cdl metabolism, 
so that action involves reacdoo, increased catabolism necesdtates 
after-increase of anaboUsm. The long-continued indtement to 
catabdism of the waking day thus of itself predisposes the nerve 
cells towards rebound into the oppodte phaM; the incresused cata- 
bdism due to the day's stimuli- induces increase of aoabolism, and 
though recuperation goes on to a large extent during the day itself, 
the recuperative process is dower than, and lags behind, the di»- 
intq;xative. Hence there occurs a cumulative enect, pro g re asi vdy 
•increasing from the opening till the dodng boors. The second 
factor inducing the assimilative diaiige la the withdrawal of the 
nervous system from sensual stimulation. The eyes are dosed, 
the maintenance of posture by active contraction is replaced by the 
recumbent pose which can bie maintained by static action and the 
mere mechanical oonsistenM of the body, the ears are screened 
from noise in the quiet chamber, the sldn from localised pressure 
by a soft, yidding couch. The cnect of thus redudng the exdtant 
action of the environment is to give consdousness over more to 
mere revivals by memory, and gradually ccmsdousness lapses. A 
remarkable case b wdl authenticated, where, owing to disease, a 
young man had lost the use of all the senses save of one eye and of 
one ear. If these last channels were seded, in two or three minutes' 
time he invariably fdl adeep. 

If natural deep b this expreauon of a phase of decreased exdt- 
ability due to thesettmg in of a tide of anabolism in the cells of tbe 
nervous system, what is the action of narcotics? They lower the 

la 



50 



MUSCOVITE 



external activitin of the cells, but do they not at the same time 
lower the internal, reparative, aasimilative activity of the cell that 
in natural sleep flt)es vigorously forward preparing the system for 
the next day's drain on energy? In most cases they seem to 
u j.^,rm lower both the internal and the external activity of the 
j«v«««M. Q^fyQ f^^ fQ lessen the cdl's entire metabolism, to 
reduce the speed of its whole chemical movement and life. Hence 
it is not scrprinng that often the refreshment, the recuperation, 
obtained from and felt after sleep induced by a drug amounts to 
nothing, or to worse than nothing. But very often refreshment 
b undoubtedly obtained from such narcotic sleep. It may be 
supposed that in the latter case the effect .of the drug has been to 
ensure occurrence of that second predisposing factor mentioned 
above, of that withdrawal of sense impulses from the nerve centres 
that serves to usher in the state of sleep. In certain conditions it 
may be well worth while by means of narcotic drugs to close the 
portals of the aenses for the salw of thus obtaining stillness in the 
chambers of the mind: their enforced quietude may induce a 
period in which natural rest and repair continue long after the 
initial unnatural arrest of vitality due to the drug itseuhaa passed | 
away. 

HypnoHsm.—The physiology of this group of "states" is, 
as regards the real understanding of their production, eminently 
vague (see also Hypnotism). The conditions which tend to in- 
jduce them contain generally, as one element, constrained visual 
attention prolonged beyond ordinary duration. Symptoms 
attendant on the hypnotic state are closure of the eyelids by 
the hypnotizer without subsequent attempt to open them by 
the hypnotized subject; the pupils, instead of being constricted, 
as for near vision, dUate, and there sets in a condition supezfidally 
resembling sleep. But in natural sleep the action of all parts 
of the nervous system is subdued, whereas in the hypnotic the 
reactions of the lower, and some even of the higher, parts are 
exalted. Moreover, the reactions seem to follow the sense 
impressions with such fatality, that, as an inference, absence of 
will-power to control them or suppress them is suggested. This 
rdSez activity with '* paralysis of will " is characteristic of the 
scumambidisHe state. The threshold-value of the stimuli 
adequate for the various senses may be extraordinarily lowered. 
Print of microacopic size may be read; a watch ticking in another 
room can be heard. Judgment of wdght and texture of surface 
is endted; thus a cud can In a dark room be felt and then 
re-sdected from the re^huflied pack. Akin to this condition is 
that in which the power of maintAJning muscular effort is in- 
crnsed; the individual may lie stiff with merely head and feet 
supported on two chain; the limbs can be held outstretched for 
boun at a time. This is the colo/r^ic state, the phase of hypno- 
tism which the phenomena of so-called " animal hypnotism " 
resemble most. A frog or fowl or guinea-pig held in some 
ufinatuial pose, and retained bo forcibly for a time, becomes 
" set " in that pose, or rather in a posture of partial recovery of 
the normal posture. In this state it remains motionless for 
various periods This condition is more than usually readily 
induced when the cerebral hemispheres have been removed. 
The decerebrate monkey exhibits '' cataleptoid " reflexes. 
Father A. Kncher's experimenhtm mtrabiU with the fowl and 
the chalk line succeeds best with the decerebrate hen. Tbe 
attitude may be described as due to prolonged, not very intense, 
discharge from reflex centres that regulate posture and are 
probably intimately connected with the cerebdlum. A sudden 
intense sense stimulus usually suffices to end this tonic discharge. 
It completes the movement that has already set in but had been 
checked, as it were, half-way, though tonically maintained. 
Coincidently with the persistence of the tonic contraction, the 
higher and voh'tional centres seem to lie under a spell of 
inhibition; their action, \^ich would complete or cut short the 
posture-q>asm, rests in abeyance. Suspension of cerebral 
influence exists even more markedly, of oouxae, when the 
cerebral hemispheres have been ablated. 

But a potent — according to some, the most potent—factor 
in hypnotism, namely, suggeaion, is unrepresented in the 
production of so-called animal hsrpnotism. We know that one 
idea suggests another, and that volitional movements are the 
outcome of ideation. If we assume that there is a material 
process at the basis of ideation, we may take the analogy of the 
concomitance between a spinal reflex movement and a skin 



sensation. The physical " touch ** thai initiates the psychical 

" touch " initiates, through the very same nerve channels, a 

reflex movement responsive to the physical " touch," just as the 

psychical " touch " may be considered also a response to the 

same physical event. But in the decapitated animal we have 

good arguments for belief that we get the reflex movement alone 

as response; the psychical touch drops out. Could, we assume 

that there is in the adult man reflex machinery which is of higher 

order than the merely spinal, which employs much more complex 

motor mechanisms than they, and is connected with a much 

wider range of sense oigans; and could we assume that th& 

reflex machinery, although usually associated in its action with 

memorial and volitional processes, may in certain circumstances 

be sundered from these latter and unattendant on them — may 

in fact continue in work when the higher processes are at a 

standstill — then we might imagine a condition resembling that 

of the somnambulistic and cataleptic states of hypnotism. 

Sudi assumptions are not wholly unjustifiibd. Actions of great 
complexity and delicacy of adjustment are daily executed by each 
of us without what is ordinarily understood as volition, and without 
more than a mere shred of memory attached thereto. To take 
one's watch from the pocket and look at it when from a familiar 
dock-tower a familiar bdl strikes a familiar hour, is an instance of 
a habitual action initiated by a sense perception outside attentive 
consciousness. We may suddenljr remember dimly afterwards that 
we have donfe ao, and we quite fail to recall the difference between 
the watch time and the dock time. In many instances hypnotism 
seems to establish quickly reactions similaLr to such as usually 
result only from long and dosdy attentive practice. The sleeping 
mother rests undisturbed by the various noises of the house and 
street, but wakes at a slight murmur from her child; The ship's 
engineer, engaged in conversation with some visitor to the engine^ 
room, talks apparently undisturbed by all the multifold noise and 
rattle of the machinery, but let the nmse alter in some item which* 
though unnoticeable to the visitor, betokens importance to the 
trained ear, and his pasnve attention is in a moment caught. The 
warders at an asylum have been hypnotized to sleep by the bedside 
of dangerous patients, and " suggested " to awake the instant the 
patients attempt to get out of bed, sounds which had no import for 
them bdng inhibited by suggestion. Warders in this way worked 
all day andperformed night duty also for months without showing 
fatigue. This is akin to the '^ repetition '* which, read by the 
schoolboy last thing overnight. Is on waking " known by heart.** 
Most of us can wake •omewhere about a desired although unusually 
early hour, if overnight we desire much to do io. 

Two theories of a i^ysiological nature have been proposed 
to account for the separation of the complex reactions of 
these conditions of hypnotism from volition and from manory. 
R. P. H. Hddenhain's view is that the cortical centres of the 
hemisphere are inhibited by peculiar conditions attaching 
to the initiatory sense stimulL W. T. Preyer's view is that the 
essential condition for initiation is fatigue of the nill-power 
under a prolonged effort of undivided attention. 

Hypnotic somnambulism and hypnotic catalepsy are not the 
only or the most profound changes of nervous condition that 
hypnosis can induce. The physiological derangement which 
is the basis of the ab^rance of volition may, if hypnotism be 
profound, pass into more widespread derangement, exhibiting 
itself as the hypnotic lethargy, lliia is associated not only with 
paralysis of will but with profound anaesthesia. Proposals 
have been made to employ hypnotism as a method of producing 
anaesthesia for surgiad purposes, but there are two grave 
objections to such employment. In order to produce a suflkient 
degree of hypnotic lethar^jy the subject must be made extremely 
suscq>tible, and this can only be done by repeated hypnotization. 
It is necessary to hyimotize patients every day for several weeks 
before they can be got into a degree of stupor suflBdent to allow 
of the safe execution of a surgical operation. But the state 
itself, when reached, is at least as dangerous to life as is that 
produced by inhalation of ether, and it is more diflkult to 
recover f rooor. Moreover, by the processes the subject has gone 
through he has had those physiological activities upon which 
his volitional power depends ezcessivdy deranged, a&d not 
improbably permanently enfeebled. (C. S. S.) 

MUSOOVITB, a rock-forming mineral belonging to the mica 
group (see Mica). It Is also known as potash-mica, bdng a 
potassium, hydrogen and aluminium orthosUicate, H«£Ali(§iO«)«« 



MUSCULAR SYSTEM 



it th* oouHiB white iiikB ebldnable 
dnface tbeeU of ]aigc axe it ni fgimerly lucd In Rimu for 
Hindoo panel and known u " Uuioivy glut "; hence the nunc 
maconte, pnpoBcd b}> J. D. Dun in 1850. Il ciyUilUici in 
the aoDodinic vyitem; distinctly developed oyttali, however, 
ut tue tai hive Ibc fona nt njugh Bi-iided piiimi ot platn^ 
Udn teaks without definjte ayitil outlina ue moie conunoo. 
Tlie noit prominent (cattin: il the perfect davige panllel to 
the bull pline (c in the figure), on 
which the luitre a peiHy in chincteE' 
J The huduB I3 2'i), ind the qkc. 
' gray. i-S-ig. The pbae of the optic 
u(s it peipendiculu 10 the pUne of 
fyiii»«tiyiiidthe»cutehisectiii nestlynoniul to thedeavige; 
Ibc optic uiai in^ it 60-70°, ind double nfnction it ittODg 
ud Desatire in lijii. 

UoKovite fRqnently occnn u fine icily to ihnoit comput 
tfgrttua, eipeaiJIy when, u ii often the cue. it faia tctulted 
by the ihention of some other minenl, such is felspir, topu, 
tyuite, be; sevcnl viiietia depcndinc on difleieDCEi In 
itRictuiE bive been diiiinguishcd. Fine soUy vuieiies in 
duuDoiite, mirguDdite (from Gi. ;i(vrrg«Ir^, 1 pearl), gilber- 
tite, wriWl' (from nipiitit, silky), be. Id sericite the fine scales 
ire united in fibrous iggregitct eivioa rite to a lilky 1\ 
ilm variety ii a common constituent of pfayUitei and ici 
■ddsU. Oncoiine {fn>m tynni, iotiunescence) ii a con 
vmetj forming roonded aggregattt, which iweH up 
boUdbefoRtheblowplpe. dotelyrebiedtoancoiincireic 
ompiux miDciak, included together under the nunc p 
which have rcndted by the alteration of iolite, qwdumeni 
Other varietin depend 

Qellacherite is a vaiie 
Id phen^te there □ CDore lilica t 
^uurimallng to H,KAI,(Si|0,)|. 
tc il oi wide distribution and [s tJ 
i^Deous rocks [t is found only in 
abundant in gneiss 
sod m phylliles and clay-slalo. where it has been formed at 
tbe rq>rTT*f of likali-fclspar by dynamo-metamorphic processes. 
In pcpnatite-vcins tiuversins granite, gneiss or miaL-schist it 
ofcnrs as large deets of commenHol value, and it roinecl in India, 
Oie United States and Brazil (see Mica), and to 1 limited extent, 
togEtlwT with felspar. In southern Norway and in the Urals, 
Lzrge (beets of mutcovite were formerly obtained from Solovetik 
Island, Arcbimge L 0- ]■ 5.) 

■OfCUUR BTnEM (AmOfmr'). The muscular tissue 
(LaL mtHaUtu, from 1 fancied retcmblince of certain mutcles 
to a Cttle mouw) it of three kinds; (1) telmUry or ilriptd 
m^sdt\ (3) iiaaiitntary ot mstriptd muide, found in tbe ikin, 
witlsoj Ixjlow viscera, coats of blood and lymphatic vessels, &c. ; 
(j) ktjrt Kude. The micnacopical diflerences of these different 
kinds arc discniied in the article on COMNECrtVE TisstrES. Here 
«tlj the vobmlaiy musdei, which are under the control ol the 
win, ue to be considered. 

The voluntary muscles form tbe red flesh of an animal, and 
an the strocturei by whicb one put of tbe body Is moved at 
viH vpoD ariocber. Each muscle is s^d to have an origin and 
cr being that attac' 






KOR fixed, 1 
<!&sIlactlon, however, although cc 
and an example may make this c 
M'jir, which is attached to tbe 



tacctofii 

the cEtest, to Uiat its orij_ 

to be fmtn the chest while its insenio 

in climbing a tree, the hand grasps 4 bi 

■iO then bctonie the origin. Cenei 
 Foe phyBoIoey, tee MBKW 



movable. This 

sr. If wetake Ibc taleralii 
ront of :the diCst ion the one 
c arm bhne^n the other, the 
Ely be 10 druw tbe Arm towards 



mnicle is partly flesh]' ud partly tendinous; theSediyCDnlnctlla 
part Is alt4cbed at one at both ends to cordi or sheets ol whita 
fibrous tiitue, which in tome eata pan louDd milUet and n 
chute the ditectlon of the mutde'i 
action. The other end of thete cords 
or lendcnt It usually sttached to the 
peiiotteum ol botie*, with which it 
blendt. In tome cue*, when a 
tendon passes round a bony pulley, 
a setanwid bone Is developed in it 
which diminiihei tbs effecti of fric- 
tion. A good eximple of thii Is the 
patella in the tendon of the nctui 



« Ifig- I, 






1 very miportaot 
d and a morpho- 
w. Tbe approxi. 
te also importaot. 



medical students. The study of the 
actions of muscles is, of course, 1 
phywolo^ol one, but teaching -the 
subject hu been handed over to the 

in tome respects usfortunale. Until 
very recently tbe inatomist studied 
only the dead body, and his one idea 
ol demonstrating the action ol a 
muscle was to eipoie. ud then to j 
pull it, and whatever hippened he 



R, Ttg leihy belly. 



tame thing. 



necessarily tbe 



s far u tbe . 



. we still have P, ne patella, 
method to depend 
. . superficial muscles it ihould be checked by 

cautiog a living person to perform certain movenieats and then 
studying .which muscles take part in them. 

For a modem study of mUKuIar ■nioai, « C. E. Bcevor'i 
Ctamun Ltanrajar ifoj (London, 1904). 

Muidei have various shapes; they may be fusiform, u in fig. i, 
conical, rlbud-Iilce, or flillened into triangular or tjuadrilaleral 
aheets. They may also be attached to skin, cartilage or fascia 
instead of to bone, while certain muscles surround openings 
which they coostrict end are called itkiiutas. The names of the' . 
muscles have gradually grown up, ud no settled plan has been \ 
used in giving them. Sometimes, as in the curacD-imcjbiqlti ud [ 
Ihyrii-hyDid. the nouie describei 









only indicai 



tatitfactory plan, liace by ieanung the 1 
attachments Me also learnt. Someiiinet the name 
■s tome peculiarity io the shape of the muscle ud 
gives no ciue lo jls position in the body or iti attachments; 
examples. of this are biapi, semUendintrtMl ud pyriformii. 
Sometimes, as In ib-efiexor carpi tdnorii and ton%iatot mptrdtii, 
the use ol the muscle is shown. At other times the position in 
the body is indicated, but not the attachment!, u in the litaala 
mUiati and ptrenais laagut, while, at other times, u in the cue 
of the palimui, the name is only mislesding. Fortunately Ibe 

piusdes; among the lew examples are Horntr'i muscU and the 



MUSCULAR SYSTEM 



mundrir land «/ IVoB. Tbe Gctmin inatoniltli 
confercDCe Utdy pnpoicd > unlfonu Latin wid "" 
lure, ofaicb, though not illogetfaer utWactcny i 
«D the EuicfNUL contlpcnt. Ai there in b 



I I tmuyvne wnnldB In the (oRbsd. The amttritr, fesUritr u 
n^x iiDmmaa ^^ ra^a. The orlria^vU polpebromm farmB ft BihLruTta nnjad ll 
pining ground cyddt, which itckia, thcniib Ihoe i> licilc doubt Ihii wrU of tt 
iifoui hundRd | oiuKkcuaciKpwmcdyuidciiiKvihaiueqimuiwL Tteddii 




mittclu on each tide o[ the body it will be 
■ttempt mon than  mere ikcidi ol Ihem; Sot the detaUt the 
uatomkal lalbooki rauM be cootulled. 
MuacLD OT Tn Hiad ihd Fici (k fig. i).— Tbg «Ip 



rbuiental iiiuiclci.thei 
hile Ihc IcHlor laiH mf- 



F which are Indkfttnl by lb 



lieriarii tt aiat im i lOiiieluiK 



id by ft LafR flfti Riutdc calkd the ouipiio-fnmialu, which hu the moiujteu major dnwi Lfae angle oT the mouth Di 
mtKularMlia. the Kfip^ii and /nmid^u.aod an intervening lower lip u depmied by ibtdtprtisor labii infttitris I 
fiaaiHal apntmuU: ihii miucle njovei Ibe icalp ud a<ae% the | a«pili mj. while IbeorSKalirii '' 




Hihiiicta tathe DODlli. 



Fig. 3.— Pieryaoid Regioii 



MUSCULAR SYSTEM 



[k Imi^Hiii awd* in the hW 
tfa lad lusTT iawi ud niu lor 

R iDivlKd by tbe wcnth or 



ki riH {nm the 



1 (fc[. J) ud tbc .HUiibr {*|. J), .Kkb 
,,. K uie mouth, lim both ur inicned inlo 

nflia^^MlmBdiilermiftBypUmiiidti (£1. j), ih«(oniKr of 
■Mtb pulli Ininl tbe caodylt, ud » Ibt wholt nundtblc. while 



cliE Utter blip* to doK tbe IB 



both trianila lo the hyoid bone. Where it (h 



53 

. deep to the 



rib by a locKi of irrviul lucU. Ruing from the tlyiaid proceft ire 
three eiiuicIh. the iljrlj-iicasiu, atyt^kytid mnd tlyh-pJuvynMui, 
(he luma ot which indicate their Atticbment*. Coveriiw uieie 
muideft ot ihc anteriiK tiungle it a thin iheel. doae (o tlw kkin. 
called the plaiyuni, the upper libra o( which ran bacli Irom the 
mouth over the cheek and m named thcWunitf <fif. J); lhi» theet 
ii one at (be (ew remiunti in mui ot (he ikin muKuuiiire or pamiii' 

(riancle inuiciei. all (hoie which go (D (he tonfue 




lor bdy. luHilicd by It 
— IT tbe ■ympfayaia. tbe 

[be hyDtd boae. Stretchiac acrnB In _. 

!■ aaer uid foanlaf  flam In the mouth ia the oytitiiDM mi 
' * ~" *>ei tbe hyeid bone, lad in the mid-line hi 
iimliiif Ibe two hahea ol the miude. Rii 
, ..A =__^ p„ ^ ,^ cUvicle H 

aiptKl bone; 



HttefKeloDk 

coviol pknBi It it u ImpoRaat Hrjkal b'lK^irk, ud 

jifn» t .■«•• Oe qudrOalsal «t^ of (be eide ol the neck, 

|ii«uu iritb hi ipei npmrd. In (be uterior ttiiogle (he relative 
pmikjH of the byad boae. Ihyniid cutjlige ind nemum ihould 
h reaEKl. ud iben tbi ijr-fimiiMi. IkjrfkyfU, lUrwt-hytii ud 
<toa»*»« iHKlea tie eqiUiicd by their aiaiee. -nttrnt-kyM 
OMdcriwabaa tba i^pa bofdo- o< the Kspuli wd ruai *««• 



inr pwticui it caught tieht ol be 

the be«i loi(» own L _.. 

angle of Ibe icapula. while the tl 



_ the tbocBCK v erte b r ae and the iigai 

into tbe outer third at die davicic and thi 
uied in thmfgiiia the ihouldm and in An 
T**^* toward tba aud^loml line. Ita 

acc ei to q r and third and fourth cervical ihttvo. nnxa toe mvv:'- 
fidal BHHelet and conpleicui are removed from Die back ol the neck, 
tbe nAt aip itat Iriamgt it teen beneath (he occinial bone. Eitet- 
nally it it bounded by tbe nptritr Mijut, ranning Irom (he tnna- 
vene procea 01 Ihe atlat to the lateral part of (be occipiul bone. 

intenuily by the rtttm capitis ptUvia major, — ' — -■.-—> — 

of the uu to (he lateral pari of the ocdntal t 
tbe H^mir otUfH 



■pine of the tcapula; it it 
lerve Hluii^ it the t|nna] 



a1 bone.'and interiorly^ 



MUSCULAR SYSTEM 




(■(Fi*, uid It 1> imcntd Into tht appcr pan ol the 
humcnu. When Ibt Irapwiu U cm. itw nlmMd mi 

.border <rf tu Kmpuli an leen. uid deep to tbeee it 
pnticv npcTW pueiiu from neuiy the ane ipiiiee 
rib*. On nflecting IhelitiHiniiu doni die drrsdu fti 



-Supec&cUl MuKla o( ibe Back. 

d pnecM. The xmnu iHfiwi li  lun nude tW» 

_, lu Inn Ihe appn eiglil ribe, and niauiv buck u tbe 

vcnebn] botda al tbe lapvla, whlcb u dnn SorSui u \d tbe 
(eDca** luHb Between llw rib* an Ibe bIvihI aad iiUna/ aUtr- 
mlal nindeii the EoniieT btfjaalag at the tubeick and eodiiic at 
the Jimctiou ol the rib* wilh Ihelt caftOaget. while tbe latter only. 






Wbea tbeae nmdes an lemoved the gnat maa* d the trttier tpiwa 
i) enmed. lanUar m every one ai the upper cut of the rirtoiD or rit 
of bed: It rvmall the way Bjiibt dmal ilde o( the vertebral cdun 
(mm tW palvlt n tk* gcapvt, the conplexai already neotlone 
bebt it* ertendofl to (he head. It h lonrituduially aetmenie 



le Internal di . _ _ . , 

lonunal walli arr lorncd of thiee iJkveta 
mm nperAdal or txUmal oWgat (fig. 6) 



MUSCULAR SYSTEM 




HiudaotllicTntak. 



RjkTOHT ISatrrfitialtxiArtitlic), 

_ _ . „ FCcrml to liur. In front oC-- 

bn« Hit al Ibc Rctn* i> aiHiiciliiKi  imiU trumcnUr miu 
ah4 tW fjwamUtUi. The tuadnuu timkiniiii ii i oiucli >t 
Wk a< iliB ftbckiaiial vail vhich niu bctncn the lut rib uid 
_. _ . --V :_.__. . .. . . [biwi.. 



K'iliaK la L 

RRCbftl or faypukl mmcuUturo, dF wliicb tl 

lap Mj if mJ Mwr Bu a riw and toufi oMi in l~. -^^ 

D la tfie lotm form tbc cUcf parts. Ihc latter bring fi 

■^OEal of the litUn if b«f. whilv the pelvii b d«Hl DFinw 

wTJ i r fcdr foeoad bv the levator aal and coccneiu dlucI 

; tmy^n^m  eipklnf i l in a K^ante atticle. 

InciB* or Tn unu Eituhitt.— The JcUnf (lee fin-7>nd 

ke aiwle vUch lomu the riwokkr cap and ii uaed in abducti 

n ta a i%ht aofle irilh tbe tmok; it nm [nm Ibe davic 

HJal pnoH and ififaie n( (ha icapiila. to tbe middle ci( t 

■na. aiid i> inppliid br the dmmflB' Bove. Semal ibi 



the iiapi (%. 7), the fadt tiMd oi wUdi rf« (m tbe lop oT A* 
^nowlpniw. The lutniui i> into the Inbcnk of the tHUu. 
■n™ IbiR ™d»aieaU«ippltel S* *f£™,te"S'5S™2£ 
nerve At the teck of the ana it the trtufi M. B J wP ica paieta 
bdiind both ihodder awl elbow joiau aod la *• i««l enew 
niu<Elc of them; ka kn bead AS^ '•".^S'TjS'r ""^ 
avity of (be KaDiila, vhile the iiinci and outer beada taae fnun th* 
bu:k of the hUHieno. It ii inKted into the oleetanoB pnx™ of 
tbe ulna and i> •upplied by tbe mumlwf™*! "vi. The tmivV* 
of the front of the fnsno form iitpcTfidB] and d«p Kti dee Ii|. 7). 
Mort of tbe niper*™! nuuda eorae Iron tbe internal c«>dy> of 
tbe humetua. From irithout Inaard they are the tnnlar nSii 
« Eolnc to the ladiufc the paT arfi nUalu » tte baae of Ae 

j_'^r2 1 1 ".1- i^-iwu fciifai to tbe ^iiati task, 

le middle phalaniB of the Si " 



c. the polmu 






9 tlK pUfona booe. The laponaac 



MUSCULAR SYSTEM 




- -, lliM. « 

dicilonim, Aexor brrvii lul' 
iLimbrkAl Are lupplicd by 



ai Ihc ■WWKl'tM irtiile the dc 

~' ibnc vie niiiKlH the He 

■bductor hiLlDcii and tbe 



.— Sclienw la flluitralc the Diipmiiion uf Ihc MyotoDe* 
ID tIK Embryo in Relation lo the Had, Trur'- — ' ' ■-■- 
A. B, C. Pint thiK rrphilii: myatrmrt. 
C. T. L, 5. Co.. The myotomn of ihr ccrvjctl, thondc, li 

r.. II.. iM.,°iy.,'v'!, vi'!^™viii„ix., x„xi.; xn.. Rtf« 

ctnbryologkaUy aaxiciAicd. 
inyocoininata Htiin im) even bstinw ohEbI, u in the iCba. but 
moRuf4iallythFy dinppcfircarTy, and themyolomotbcn unite with 
oncantlllier [o Tonn 9 Breal muKuUr iheet. In Ibc whole kn£th of the 

rcBpcctive^t^ thcdomt and vemrvEpnnury divisDDiof Ihripinal 

nenet. From the dotal ptn the vMioua ipukIci of the eiccior 

IK derived by lunher loniiiudinal clea-'api eithci 

at right anclct to th» ■iirfa.-* «hLl» th. v™tr.l run 

nludUuily fpUt into . .. 

nion of tbe Inink at Ihia Hate, thenfore. wobM ihaw 

itendi of three ioncitudioal airlpi of buulei (t) a mcHal 
veniiiil, Irofn which the rectua, pynmldaru ■lvmo-hy<Md. oinc^ 

hyoid and tumo-ibyitttd miiir' " '-* - * * 

fomiinE the flat muwln of th., .».«...,... ..,.«-..—.. , ^ 

tbe HEmomaHoid and tiapeiiu! and (3) the dorul poriioa alnaily 
noticed. The me«a1 ventral part i* remarkable for the pernatence 

of the rcctm and the central tendon of Ihc omo-hyoid. The latent 
part in tbe abdominal rc|[ioa aplita langentiaUy into three la^-ers 



MUSES, THE 



iIk exteraftl and internal obOqne and the trtntvemlit, the fibres 
flf vliifch become differently directed. In the thoracic rcgbn the 
intcrcQetala probably indicate a funher tangential •pUtting of the 
middle or internal oblique layer, because toe external oblique is 
continued beadward super6ciaily to the ribs and the transvenalis 
deeply to tbem. The wore cephalic part oC the external oblique 
layer probably disappears by a process oC pressure or crowding out 
ovii^ to the encroachment of the serratus magnus, a muscle which 
its nerve supply indicates is derived from the lower cervical myo- 
tomeSb Tbe deeper parts of the lateral mass of muades spread to 
the ventral surface of the bodies of the vertebrae, and iurm the 
kypfjnal mmdn — such as the psoas, longus colli and recti capitis 
antid. The nerve supplv indioites that the lowest myotomes taking 
part in the formation of the abdomtnal walls are those supplied by 
the first and second lumbar nerves, and are represented by the 
oemaster muscle in the scrotum. In the perineum, however, the 
thud and fourth sacral myotomes are represented, and these muscles 
are differentiated lar^ly from the primitive sphincter which sur- 
fouads the doacal orifice, though partly from vestigial tail muscles 
(see P. Thompson, Joum, Anat, and Phys., vol. xxxv; and R. H. 
Puamore, Laicet, May 3i, loio). In the head no distinct myotomes 
have beea demonstrated In the mammalian embryo, but as they are 
present in more lowly Tertebrates, it is probable that their develop- 
oent bas been slurred over, a process often found in the erobryolocy 
of the hsher forms. Probaluy nine cephalic myotomes originally 
existed, oi wfakh the fint gives rise to the eye muscles suppued by 
tbe third nerv«, the second to the superior oblique muscle supplied 
bv the fourth nerve, and the third to the external rectus supplied by 
the sbctb nerve. The fourth, fifth and sixth myotomes are sup- 
pressed, but the seventh, elshtn and ninth possibly form the muscles 
of the toogiie supplied bv toe twelfth cranial nerve. 

Tamins aosr to the Dranchial arches, the first branchiomere is 
innervatea by the fifth cranial nerve, and to it beknw the masseter, 
tempanl, pterygoids, anterior bdly of the dieastnc, mylo-hyoid, 
lensor tympam and tensor palati, while from the second branchio- 
aere, snppued bv the seventh or facial nerve, all the facial muscles 
of I us I' Minn and the etylo-hyoid and posterior belly of the digastric 
are d er ive d, as veil as tbe platysma, which is one of the few remnants 
of die pannimlus camosus or skin musculature of the lower num- 
malsL Fftnn tbe third branchiomere, the nerve of which is the ninth 
or gloasopharyngeal, the stylo-pharyneeus and upper part of the 
pharyngeal ooostrictora are formed, while the fourth and fifth gill 
aicbes 0nre rise to the muscles of the larynx and the lower part of 
the conscrictors supplied by the vagus or tenth nerve. It is possible 
that parts of the stemo-mastoid and trapezius are also branchial 
in their origin, nnce they are supplied by* the spinal accessory or 
-. .m. jjyj iijj^ jj unsettled. The limb musculature is 



fCDrded as a sleeve*like outpushlng of the external oblique 
stratmn oT the lateral ventral musculature of the trunk, and it is 
believed that parts of several myotomes are in this way pushed out 
is the growth of the limb bud. This process actually occurs in the 
lower vertebrates, and the nerve supplies provide strong presumptive 
e v idence that this is the real i^ylocienetic nistory of the hieher forms, 
thoM^ direct observation shows that the limb muscles <A mamnuils 
are lormed from tbe central mesoderm of the limb and at first are 
<^3ite daadnct from the myotomes of the trunk. A possible expbna- 
tMQ of the diflBcuky is that this is another example of the slurring 
over of stages in phylogenv, but this is one of many obscure morpho- 
lopcal points. The muscles of each limb are divided into a dorsal 
and ventral series, supplied by dorsal and ventral secondary divisions 
of the nerves in the limb plexuses, and these correspond to tne original 
positioo of the limbs as they grow out from the embryo, so that in 
the upper extremitv the back of the arm. forearm and dorsum of the 
hand are dorsal, while in the lower the dorsal surface is the front of 
the thkh and leg and the dorsum of the foot. 

Forfnrther details see Development of the Human Body, by J. P. 
McMurrich (London. 1906), and the writings of L. Bolk, Morphol. 
Jakrb. vols, xxi-xxv. 

Comparatm Anatomy, 

la the aciania (r.g. amfrfiioxus) the simple arrangement of myo- 
tomes and myocommata seen in the early human embryo is perma- 
aeau The myotomes or muscle plates are < shapeo. with their 
apfccs pointing towards the head end, each being supplied by its 
own spinal nerve. In the fishes this arrangement is largely persis- 
tent, but each limb of tbe < is bent on itseu, so that the myotomes 
have now the shape of a $, the central angle of which corresponds 
to tbe lateral fine of the fish. In the abdominal region, however, 
the tayotome% fuse and rudiments of the recti and obliqui abdominis 
■msrles of hsgber types are seen. In other regions too, such as the 
las of fish and the tongue of the Cyclostomata (lamprey), specialized 
nnscalar bundles are separated off and are coincident with the 
aoquirnnent of movements of these parts in different directions. 




thou^ 
in tbe abdominal region, a superficial delamination occurs, 
io that in many forms a superficial ana deep rectus abdominis occurs 
as wcQ as a eutaneus abdominis delaminated from the external 
o*)fique. It b probable that this delamination is the precursor of 



59 

the panniculns camotus or sldn muscubture of mammals. The 
branchial musculature also becomes much more complex, and the 
mylo-hyoid muscle, derived from the first branchial areh and lying 
beneath the floor of the mouth, is very noticeable and of great 
importance in breathing. 

In the reptiles further differentiation of the muscles is seen, and 
with the acquirement of costal respiration the external and internal 
intercortals are formed by a delamination of the internal oblique 
stratum. In the dorsal region several of the longitudinal musoea 
whkrh together make up the erector q>inae are distinct, and a very 
definite sphincter cloacae is formed round and ck>aad aperture. 
In mammals certain muscles vary in their attachments or presence^ 
and absence in different orders, sub-orders and families, so that, 
were it not for the large amount of technical knowledge required 
in recognizing them, they might be useful from a classificatory point 
of view. There is, however, agreater gap between the musculature 
of Man and that of the other rrimates than there is be tw een many 
different orders, and this is usually traceable dtber direct^ oc 
indirectly to the assumption of the erect position. 

The chief causes which produce chanjses of mnsralature are: 




the nerve supply gives an important clue to the change which 
has been effected. Splitting of a muscular mass b often (he result 
of one part of a muscle being used separately, and a good example 
of this is the deep flexor mass of the forearm. In the lower mammals 
this mass rises from the flexor surface of the radius and ulna, and 
supplies tendons to the terminal phalanges of all five digits, but in 
man the thumb is used separately, and, in response to this, that 
part of the mass which eoes to the thumb is comfdetely q>lit off into 
a separate muscle, the flexor k>ngus pollkis. The process, however, 
is going farther, for we have acquired the habit of using our index 
finger alone for many purposes, and the index slip of the flexor 

Profundus digitorum is in us almost as distinct a muscle as the flexor 
mgus pollicis. Fusion may be either collateral or longitudinal. 
The former is seen in the case of the flexor carpi ulnaris. In many 
mammals {e.g. the dog), there are two muscles inserted separately 
into the pisiform bone, one rising from the Internal condyle of the 
humerus, the other from the olecranon process, but in many others 
{e.g. man) the two muscles have fused. Longitudinal fusion is seen 
in the digastric, where the anterior belly is part of the first (man- 
dibular) branchbl areh and the posterior of the second or hydd areh ; 
in this case, as one would expect, the anterior belly is supplied by 
the fifth nerve and the posterior by the seventh. Partial suppression 
of a muscle is seen in the rhomboid sheet; in the lower mammab 
this rises from the head, neck and anterior toephalic) thoracic q>ines, 
but in man the head and most of the neck part b completely sup- 
pressed. Complete suppression of a muscle b exemplified m the 
omo-trachclian, a muscle which runs from the cervical vertebrae 
to the-acromian process and fixes the ecapob for the strong action 
of the triceps in pronograde mammals; in man this strong action 
of the triceps is no longer needed for prcKxession, and the fixins 
muscle has disappeared. Shifting of origin is seen in the short head 
of the biceps femoris. Thb in many kywer mammab {e.g. rabbit) 
is a muscle running from the tail to the lower leg; in many othere 
{e.g. monkeys and man) the origin has slipped down to the femur, 
and in the great anteater it is evident that the agitator caudae has 
been used as a muscle sltde, because the short head of the bkeps 
or tenuisstmus has once been found rising from the surface of this 
muscle. Shitting of an insertion is not neariy as common as shifting 
of an origin ; it is seen, however, in the pcroneus tertius of man, in 
which part of the extensor longus digitorum has acquired a new 
attachment to the base of the fifth metatarsal bone. The new 
formation of a muscle is seen in the st^o-hyoideus alter, an occasional 
human muscle; in this the stylo-hyoid ligament has been converted 
into a muscle. The transference of part of one muscle to another 
is well shown by the human adductor magnus; here the fibres which 
pass from the tuber ischii to the condyle of the femur have a nerve 
supply from the great sdatic instead of the obturator, and in most 
lower mammals are a separate part of the hamstrings known as the 
presem imembranosus. 

For further details see Bronn's Oassen vnd Ordnungen des TTkier- 
reichs; " Tbe Muscles of Mammals," by F. G. Parsons, Jour. Anat. 
and Phys. xxxii. 428; also accounts of the muscubture of mammala, 
by VVindle and Parsons, in Proc. Zool. Soc (1894, seq.); Humphry, 
Observations in Myology (1874). (F. G. P.) 

MUSES, THB (Or. MoMreu, the thinkers), in Greek myth- 
ology, originally nymphs of springs, then goddesses of song, and, 
later, of the different kinds of poetiy and of the arts and sciences 
generally. In Homer, who says nothing definite as to their 
names or number, they are simply goddesses of song, who dwell 
among the gods on Olympus, where they sing at their banquets 
under the leadership of Apollo Musagetes. According to Hesiod 
{Thtog. 77), who first gives tbe usually accepted names and 
number, they were the daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne, the 
personification of memory; others made them children of 



6o 



MUSET— MUSEUMS OF ART 



(Jranus and Gaca. Hiree older Muses (Mneme, Mdete, Aoide) 
were sometimes distinguished, whose worship was said to have 
been introduced by the Aloidae on Mt Helicon (Pausanias iz. 29). 
It is probable that three was the original number of the 
Muses, which was increased to nine owing to their arrangement 
in three groups of three in the sacred choruses. Round the 
altar of 2>us they sing of the origin of the world, of gods and men, 
of the glorious deeds of Zeus; they also honour the great heroes; 
and celebrate the marriages of Cadmus and Peleus, and the 
death of Achilles. As goddesses of song they protect those who 
recognise their superiority, but punish the arrogant — such as 
Thamyris, the Thradan bard, who for having boasted himself 
their equal was deprived of sight and the power of song. From 
their connexion with ApoUo and their original nature as inquring 
nymphs of springs they also possess the ^t of prophecy. They 
are closely rebited to Dionysus, to whose festivals dramatic 
poetry owed its origin and development The worship of the 
Muses had two chief seats — on the northern slope of Mt 
Olympus in Pieria, and on the slope of Mt Helicon near 
Ascra and Thespiae in Boeotia. Their favourite haunts were the 
springs of Castalia, Aganippe and Hippocrene. From Boeotia 
their cult gradually spread over Greece. As the goddesses who 
presided over the nine principal departments of letters, their 
names and attributes were: Calliope, epic poetry (wax tablet and 
pendl); Euterpe, lyric poetry (the double flute); Erato, erotic 
poetry (a small lyre); Melpomene, tragedy (tragic mask and ivy 
wreath); ThaUa, comedy (comic mask and ivy wreath); Pdly- 
hymnia (or Polymuia), saared hymns (veiled, and in an attitude 
of thought); Terpsichore, choral song and the dance (the lyre); 
Qio, history (a scroll); Urania, astronomy (a crlesfial globe). 
To these Arethusa was added as the muse of pastoral poetry. 
The Roman poets identified the Greek Muses with the Italian 
Camenae (or Casmenae), prophetic nymphs of springs and god- 
desses of birth, who possessed a grove near the Porta Capena 
at Rome. One of the most famous of these was Egeria, the 
counsellor of King Numa. 

See H. Deiters, Ueber die Vertkrung der Musen hei den Griecken 
(1863); P. Decharme, I«i Muses (i860); J. H. Krauae. Die Musen 
(1871); F. Rddiger, Die Musen (187^); O. Navarre in Darembera; 
ana Saglio's DtcUonnaire des aniiqutUs, and O. Bie in Roacher^ 
Lexikon der Mylhologiet the latter chiefly for repreaentations of the 
Muses in art. 

MUSBT, COLIN (fi. 1200), French troinhre, was poet and 
musician, and made his living by wandering from castle to castle 
singing his own songs. These are not confined to the praise of 
the conventional love that formed the usual topic of the trowhes, 
but contain many details of a singer's life. Colin shows naive 
gratitude for presents in kind from his patrons, and recommends 
a poet repulsed by a cruel mistress to find consolation in the 
bans morceaux qu*on mange devanl un grand feu. One of his 
patrons was Agn^ de Bar, duchess of Lorraine (d. 1 226). 

Set Hist. liU. de la France, xxiii. 547-553 ; ako a thesis, De Nicolas 
Museto (1893). by J. Bddier. 

MUSEUMS OP ART.* The kter xgth century was remarkable 
for the growth and development of museums, both in Great 
Britain and abroad. This growth, as Professor Stanley Jevons 
predicted, synchronises with the advancement of education. 
Public museums are now universally required; old institutions 
have been greatly improved, and many new ones have been 
founded, lie British parliament has passed statutes conferring 
upon local authorities the power to levy rates for library and 
museum purposes, while on the continent of Europe the collection 
and exhibition of objects of antiquity and art has become a 
recx^nized duty of the state and mum'dpality alike. 

A sketch of the history of museums in general is given bdow, 
under Musedms or Science. The modem museum of art differs 
essentially from its earlier prototypes. The aimless collection 
of curiosities and bric-4-brac, brought together without method 

. * Under the term *' museum " (Gr. lunonam, temple of the muses) 
we accept the ordinary distinction, by which it covers a collection 01 
all sorts of art objects, while an art gallery (s.s.) confines itself 
prsctkally to pictures. 



or system, was the feature of certain famous coDectioos in by- 
gone days, of which the Trsdescant Museum, formed in the 17th 
century, was a good example. This museum was a miscellany 
without didactic value; it contributed nothing, to the advance- 
ment of art; its arrangement was unscientific, and the public 
gained little or no advantage from its existence. The modern 
museum, on the other hand, should be organized for the public 
good, and should be a fruitful source of amusement and instruc- 
tion to the whole community. Even when Dr Waagen described 
the collections of En^and, about 1840, private individuab 
figured diiefly among the owners of art treasures. Nowadays in 
making a record of this nature the. collections belonging to the 
puhlic would at tract most attention. This fact is b«Toming more 
obvious every year. Not only are acquisitidns of great value 
constantly made, but the principles of museum administration 
and development are being more closely defined. What Sir 
William Flower, an eminent authority, called the " new museum 
idea " {Essays on Musditms, p. 37) is pervading the treatment of 
all the chief museums of the world. Briefly stated, the new 
prindide of museum development — ^first enunciated in 1870, but 
now beginning to receive general support — is that the first aim of 
public collections ,shaU be education, and their second recreation. 
To be of teaching value, museum arrangement and dasufication 
must be carefully studied. Acquisitions must be added to -their 
proper sections; random purdiase of " curios " must be avoided. 
Attention must be given to the proper display and cataloguing 
of the exhil>its, to their housing and preservation, to the lighting, 
comfort and ventilation of the galleries. Furthermore, facilities 
must be allowed to those who wish to nuke special study of 
the objects on view. " A museum is like a living oiganism: 
it requires continual and tender care; it must grow, or it will 
perish ** (Flower, p. 13). 

Great progress has been made in the classification of objects, 
a hi^y important branch of museum work. There are three 
possible systems — ^namely, by date, by material and 
by nationality. It has been fotmd possible to 
combine the systems to some extent; for instance, 
in the ivory department of the Victoria and Albert Museuni, 
South Kensington, London, where the broad classification ii 
by material, the objects being further subdivided according to 
their age, and in a minor degree according to their nationality. 
But as yet there ts no general preference of one system to another. 
Moreover, the prindples of classification are not easily laid down; 
e.g. musical instruments: should they be induded in art exhibits 
or in the ethnographical section to which they also pertain? 
Broadly speaking, objects must be rlawifird according to the 
quality (apart from their nature) for which they are most remark- 
able. Thus a musket or bass viol of the i6th century, inlaid 
with ivory and highly decorated, wotdd be properiy induded in 
the art section, whereas a common flute or weapon, noteworthy 
for nothing but its interest as an instrument of music or destruc- 
tion, would bt suitably classified as ethnographic. In England, 
at any rate, there is no uniformity of practice in this respect, 
and though it is to be hoped that the ruling desire to classify 
according to strict sdentific rules may not become too preva- 
lent, it would nevertheless be a distinct advantage if, in one or 
more of the British museums, some attempt were made lo 
illustrate the growth of domestic arts and oafts according to 
classification by date. Examples of this classification in Munich, 
Amsterdam, Basd, ZOrich and elsewhere afford excellent lessons 
of history and art, a series of rooms being fitted up to show 
in chronological order the home life of our ancestors. In the 
National Museum of Bavaria (Munich) there is a superb suite of 
rooms illustrating the progress of art from Merovingian times 
down to the igth century. Thus classification, though studied, 
must not check the elastidty of art museums; it should not be 
allowed to interfere with the mobility of the exhibits— that is to 
say, it should always be possible to withdraw spedmens for the 
doser inspection of students, and also to send examples on loan 
to other museums and schools of art— an invaluable system long 
in vogue at the Victoria and Albot Museum, and one whith 
should be still more widdy adopted. An axiom of museum law 



MUSEUMS OF ART 



6i 



is that the exhibits shall be properly shown. ** The value of a 
museoin is to be tested by the treatment of Its contents" 
(Flower, p. 24). But in many museums the chief hindrance to 
study aikd enjoyment Is overcrowding of exhibits. Although 
a tiuism, it is necessary to sute that each object should be 
properly seen, dcaned and safeguarded; but all over the world 
this rule is forgotten. The rapid acquisition of objects Is one 
cause of overcrowding, but a faulty appreciation of the didactic 
purpose of the collection is more frequently responsible. 

In Great Britain, museum progress is satisfactory. Visitors 
are niunbered by millions, access Is now permitted on Sundays 

and week-days alike, and entrance fees arc being con- 
""^sistently r»iuced;in this the contrast between Great 

Britain and some fordgn countries is singular. A 

generation or so ago the national collections of Italy used to be 

always ojpcn to the public Pay-days, however, were gradually 

establnhcd, with the result that the chief collections arc now 

only vbible without payment on Sundays. In Dresden payment 

is obligatory five days a week. The British Museum never 

charges for admission. On the other hand, the increase in 

continental collections b more raiHd than in Great Britain, where 

acquisitkHis arc only made by gift, purchase or bequest. In 

other European countries enormous collections have been 

obtained by revolutions and conquest, by dynastic changes, and 

by secularizing rdigioua foundations. Some of the chief 

treasures of provincial museums in France were spoils of the 

Napi^eonic annics, though the great bulk of this loot was returned 

in 18x5 to the original owners. In Italy the conversion of a 

monastery into a museum is a simple process, the Dominican 

house of San Biaroo in Florence offering a typical example. A 

further stimulus to the foundation of museums on the continent 

is the comparative ease with which old buildings are obtained 

and adapted for the collections. Thus the Germanisches Museum 

of Nuremberg is a secularized church and convent ; the enormous 

coUectJons bdongmg to the town of Ravenna arc housed in an 

old Camaldulenslan monastery. At Louvain and Florence 

Bninidpal palaces of great beauty arc used; at Nlmes a famous 

Roman tem{de; at Urbino the grand ducal palace, and so on. 

There are, however, certain disadvantages in securing both 

building and colIectx>n ready-made, and the special care devoted 

to museums in Great Britain can be traced to the faa that their 

cost to the community is considerable. Immense sums have 

been spent on the buildings alone, nearly a million sterling being 

de\noted to the new buildings for the Victoria and Albert Museum 

in London. Had it been possible to secure them without such 

an outUy the collections themselves would have been much 

increased, though in this increase itself there would have been a 

danger, prevalent but not yet fully realized In other countries, 

of crowding the vacant space with specimens of inferior quality. 

The result is that fine things are badly seen owing to the masses 

of second-rate examples; moreover, the ample space available 

induces the authorities to remove works of art from their original 

places, in order to add theAi to the museums. Thus the statue 

of St George by Donatello has been taken from the church of Or 

San Michde at Florence (on the plea of danger from exposure), 

and is now placed in a museum where, being dwarfed and under 

cover, its chief artistic value Is lost. The desire to make financial 

profit from works of art is a direct cause of the noodern museum 

movement in Italy. One result is to displace and thus dq)redate 

many worics of art, beautiful In their original places, but quite 

iifsignificant when put into a museum. Another result is that, 

owing to high entrance fees, the humbler class of Italians can 

rardy see the art treasures of their own country. There are 

other coEections, akin to art museums, which would best be 

called biogiaphlcal museums. They illustrate the life and work 

of great artists or authors. Of these the most notable are the 

muenms commemorating Diirer at Nuremberg, Beethoven at 

Boon, Thorwaldsen at Copenhagen, Shakespeare at Stratford 

and Michdangdo at Florence. The sacristies of cathedrals often 

ocmtain ecclesiastical objects of great value, and are shown 

to the public as museums. Cologne, Aachen, Milan, Monza and 

Rans lave famous treasuries. Many Italian cathedrals have 



small museums attached to them, usually known as ".Opera del 
Duomo." 

United Kingdom.^^The influence and reputation of the British 
Museum are so great that its original purpose, as stated in th* 
preamble of the act by which it was founded (1753, 
c. 33), may be quoted: " Whereas all arts and sdences 
have a connexion with each other, and discoveries 
in natural philosophy and other branches of speculative know- 
ledge, for the advancement and improvement whereof the said 
museum or collection was intended, do, or nuiy in many instances 
give help and success to the most useful experiments and under- 
takings . . ." The "said museum " above mentioned referred 
to the collection of Sir Hans Sloanc, to be purchased under the 
act just quoted. Sir Hans Sloane is therein stated, " through 
the course of many years, with great labour and expense, to 
have gathered together whatever could be procured, dther in 
our own or foreign countries, that was rare and curious." In 
order to buy his collections and found the museum a lottery of 
£300,000 was authorized, divided into 50,000 tickets, the prizes 
varying from £10 to £10,000. Provision was made for the 
adequate housing of Sir Robert Cotton's books, already bought in 
1700 (x3 and 13 Win. III. c. 7). This act secured for the nation 
the famous Cottonian manuscripts, "of great use and service for 
the knowledge and preservation of our constitution, both in 
church and state." Sir Robert's grandson had preserved the 
collection with great care, and was willing that It should not be 
" disposed of or embeziled," and that it should be preserved for 
public use and advantage. This act also sets forth the oath to 
be sworn by the keeper, and deals with the appointment of 
trustees. This is still the method of internal govetnment at the 
British Museum, and additions to the Board of Trustees are made 
by statute, as In 1824, In acknowledgment of a bequest. The 
trustees are of three classes: (a) three prindpal trustees, namely 
the Primate, the Lord Chancellor and the Speaker; {b) generd 
trustees, entitled ex officio to the position in virtue of ministerial 
office; (c) family, bequest and nominated trustees. A standing 
committee of the trustees meets regularly at the museum for the 
transaction of business. The great departments of the museum 
(apart from the sdentific and zoological collections, now placed 
in the museum in Cromwell Road, South Kensington) are of 
printed books, MSS., Oriental books, prints and drawings, 
Egyptian and Assyrian antiquities, British and medieval 
antiquities, coins and medals. Each of these eight departments 
is under a keeper, with an expert staff of subordinates, the head 
executive officer of the whole museum bdng styled director and 
chief librarian. The museum has been enriched by bequests 
of great importance, especially in the library. Recent legacies 
have included the porcelain bequeathed by Sir Wollaston Franks, 
and the valuable collection of works of art (chiefly enamels and 
gold-smithery) known as the Waddesdon bequest — a legacy of 
Baron F. de Rothschild. The most important group of acquisi- 
tion by purchase In the history of the museum is the series of 
Greek sculptures known as the Elgin Marbles, bought by act of 
parliament (56 Geo. III. c. 99). 

There are four national museums controlled by the Board of 
Education, until recently styled the Department of Sdence and 
Art. The chief of these is the Victoria and Albert Muatuma •# 
Museum at South Kensington. This museum has a <A«AMftf •# 
dependency at Bethnal Green, the Dublin and*|*'^* 
Edinburgh museums having been now removed from its direct 
charge. There is also a museum of practical geology in Jermyn 
Street, containing valuable specimens of pottery and majolica. 
The Victoria and Albert Museum owed its incq>tion to the 
Exhibition of 1851, from the surplus funds of which xa acres of 
land were bought in South Kensington. First known as the 
Department of Practical Art, the musctmi rapidly established 
itself on a broad basis. Acquisitions of whole collections and 
unique spedmens were accumulated. In 1857 the Sheepshanks 
gallery of pictures was presented; in 1879 the India Office trans- 
ferred to the department the collection of Oriental art formerly 
bdonging to the East India Company; in i88a the Jones bequest 
of French furniture and decorative art (1740-18x0) was recdvcd; 



62 



MUSEUMS OF ART 



in 1884 the Patent Museum was handed over to the department. 
Books, prints, MSS. and drawings were bequeathed by the Rev. 
A. Dyce and Mr John Forster. Meanwhile, gifts and purchases 
had combined to make the collection one of the most important 
in Europe. The chief features may be summarized as consisting 
of pictures, 'nduding the Raphael cartoons lent by the king; 
textiles, silks and tapestry; ceramics and enamels; ivory and 
plastic art, metal, furniture and Oriental collections. The 
guiding principle of the museum is the illustration of art applied 
to industry. Beauty and decorative attraction is perhaps the 
chief characteristic of the exhibits here, whereas the British 
Museum is largely archaeological. With this object in View, 
the museum possesses numerous reproductions of famous 
art treasures: casts, facsimiles and electrotypes, some of 
them so well contrived as to be almost indistinguishable 
from the originals. An art library with 75,000 volumes 
and 35,000 prints and photographs is at the disposal of 
students, and an art school is also attached to the museum. 
The museum does considerable work among provincial schools 
of art and museums, *' circulation " being its function in 
this connexion. Works of art are sent on temporary loan to 
local museums, where they are exhibited for certain periods 
and on being withdrawn arc replaced by fresh examples. The 
subordinate museum of the Board of Education at Belhnal 
Green and that at Edinburgh call for no comment, their contents 
being of slender value. The Dublin Museum, though now 
controlled by the Irish Department, may be mentioned here as 
having been founded and worked by the Board of Education. 
Apart from the fact that it is one of the most suitably housed 
and organized museums in the British Isles, it is remarkable for 
its priceless collection of Celtic antiquities, belonging to the 
Royal Irish Academy, and transferred to the Kildare Street 
Museum in 1890. Among its most famous specimens of early 
Irish art may be mentioned the shrine and bell of St Patrick, 
the Tara brooch, the cross of Cong and the Ardagh chalice. The 
series of bronze and stone implements is most perfect, while 
the jewels, gold ornaments, torques, fibulae, diadems, and so 
forth are such that, were it possible again to extend the galleries 
(thus allowing further classification and exhibition space), the 
collection would surpass the Danish National Museum at 
Copenhagen, its chief rival in Europe. 

The famous collections of Sir Richard Wallace (d. 1890) having 
been bequeathed to the British nation by his widow, the public 
Q^j^^ has acquired a magnificent gallery of pictures, 
NmtioaMt together with a quantity of works of art, so important 
madQuaah as to make it necessary to include Hertford House 
2*'^*' among national museums. French art predominates, 
and the examples of bronze, furniture, and porcelain 
are as fine as those to be seen in the Louvre. Hertford House, 
however, also contains a most remarkable collection of armour, 
and the examples of Italian faience, enamels, bijouterie, &c., 
are of first-rate interest. The universities of Cambridge and 
Oxford have museums, the latter including the Ashmolean collec- 
tions, a valuable bequest of majolica from D. Fortnum, and some 
important classical statuary, now in the Taylorian Gallery. 
Christ Church has a small museum and picture gallery. Trinity 
College, Dublin, has a miniature archaeological collection, 
containing some fine examples of early Irish art. The National 
Museum of Antiquities of Scotland, controlled by the Board of 
Manufactures, was formed by the Scottish Society of Antiquaries, 
and has a comprehensive collection of Scottish objects, lay and 
religious. The Tower of London contains armour of historic 
and artistic interest, and the Royal College of Music has an 
invaluable collection of musical instruments, presented by Mr 
George Donaldson. Art museums are also to be found in several 
public schools in the United Kingdom. 

The Museums Act of 1845 enabled town councils to found and 
maintain museums. This act was superseded by another passed 
M -*>j^» ^" '*S®» ^y ^^ William Ewart, which in its turn has 
MoMnuu. ^^^^ replaced by amending statutes passed in 1855, 
1866, x868 and 1885. The Museums and Gymna- 
siums Act of 1891 sanctioned the provision and maintenance of 



museums for the reception of loatl antiquities and other objects 
of interest, and allows a |d. rate, irrespective of other acts. 
Boroughs have also the right to levy special rates under private 
municipal acts, Oldham affording a case in point. Civic museums 
must still be considered to be in their infancy. Although 
the movement is now firmly established in mimicipal enterprise, 
the collections, taken as a whole, are still somewhat nondacript. 
In many cases collections have been handed over by local 
societies, particularly in geology, zoology and other scientific 
departments. There arc about twelve museums in which Roman 
antiquities are noticeable, among them being Leicester, and the 
Civic Museum of London, at the Guildhall. British and Anglo- 
Saxon relics are important features at Sheffield and Liverpool; 
in the former case owing, to the Bateman collection acquired in 
1876; while the Mayer collection presented to the latter city 
contains a highly important scries of carved ivories. At Salford, 
Glasgow and Manchester industrial art is the chief feature of the 
collections. Birmingham, with perhaps the finest provincial 
collection of industrial art, is supported by the rates to the extent 
of £4 300 a year. Its collections (including here, as in the majority 
of great towns, an important gallery of paintings) are entirely 
derived from gifts and bequests. Birmingham has made a 
reputation for special exhibitions of works of art lent for a time 
to the corporation. These loan exhibitions, about which 
occasional lectures are given, and of which cheap illustrated 
catalogues are issued, have largely contributed to the great 
popularity and efficiency of the museum. Liverpool, Preston, 
Derby and Sheffield owe their fine museum buildings to private 
generosity. Other towns have museums which are chiefly 
supported by subscriptions, e.g. Chester and Newcastle, where 
there is a fine collection of work by Bewick the engraver. At 
Exeter the library, museum, and art gallery, together with 
schools of science and art, are combined in one building. Other 
towns may be noted as having art museums: Stockport, Notting- 
ham (Wedgwood collection), Leeds, Bootle, Swansea, Bradford, 
Northampton (British archaeology), and Windsor. There are 
museums at Belfast, Lame, Kilkenny and Armagh. The cost 
of the civic museum, being generally computed with the mainten> 
ance of the free library, is not easily obtained. In many cases 
the librarian is also curator of the museum; elsewhere no curator 
at aU is appointed, his work being done by a caretaker. In 
some museums there is no classificati<Mi or cataloguing and 
the value of existing collections is impaired both by careless 
treatment and by the too ready acceptance of worthless 
gifts; often enough the museums are governed by committMs 
of the corporation whose interest and experience are not 
great. 

Foreign Mtueums. — Art museums are far more numerous 
on the continent of Europe than in England. In Germany 
progress has been very striking, their educational aspect being 
closely studied. In Italy public collections, which are ten times 
more numerous than in England, are chiefly regarded as financial 
assets. The best examples of classification are to be found 
abroad, at Vienna, Amsterdam, Zurich, Mimich and Gizeh in 
Egypt. The Mus^ Camavalet, the historical collection of the 
city of Paris, is the most perfect civic museum in the world. 
The buildings in which the objects can be most easily studied are 
those of Naples, Berlin and Vienna. The value of the aggregate 
collections in any single country of the great powers, Russia 
excepted, probably exceeds the value of British collections. At 
the same time, it must be remembered that masses of foreign 
collections represent expropriations by the dty and the state, 
together with the inheritance of royal and semi-royal collectors. 
In Germany and Italy, for instance, there are at least a dozen 
towns which at one time were capitals of principalities. In 
some countries the public holds over works of art the pre-emptive 
right of purchase. In Italy, under the law known as the Editto 
Pacca, it is illegal to export the more famous works of art. 
Speaking generally, the cost of maintaining municipal museums 
abroad is very small, many being without expert or highly-paid 
officials, while admission fees are often considerable. Nowhere 
in the United Kingdom are the collections neglected in a manner 



MUSEUMS OF ART 



63 



tbooi^ which ceruin towns in Italy and Spain have gained an 
ooenviable name. 

Berlin and Vienna have collections of untold richness, and the 
puUic are freely admitted. Berlin, besides its picture gallery 
Ottmmmy *^ architectural museum, has a collection of Christian 
mt antiquities in the university. The old museum, a 

^"^if^ royal foundation, is renowned for its classical sculp- 
ture and a remarkable collection of medieval statuary, in 
which Italian art is wdl represented. The new museum is 
also n o t ew ort hy for Greek marbles, and contains bronzes and 
engravings, together with one of the most typical collections of 
Egyptian art. Schliemann's discoveries are housed In the 
Ethnograf^iic Museum. The Museum of Art and Industry, 
dosdy similar in object and arrangement to the Victoria and 
Albert Moseum in London, contains collections of the same 
character— enamels, furniture, ceramics, &c. Vienna also has 
one of these museums (Knnstgewerbe), in which the great value 
of the examples is enhanced by their judicious arrangement. 
The Historical Museum of this city is interesting, and the 
Imperial Museum (of which the structure corresponds almost 
exactly with a plan of an ideal museum designed by Sir William 
Flower) is one of the most comprehensive extant, containing 
annoor of world-wide fame and the choicest specimens of indus- 
trial art. Prague, Innsbruck and Budapest arc respectively 
the homes of the national museums of Bohemia, Tirol and 
Hungary. The National Museum of Bavaria (Munich) has been 
oompleted, and its exhibition rooms, loo in number, show the 
most recent methods of classification, Nuremberg, with upwards 
ci eighty rooms, being its only rival in southern Germany. 
Mainz auKi Trier have Roman antiquities. Hamburg, Leipzig and 
Breslan have ^xkI ^* Knnstgewerbe " collections. In Dresden 
there are fonr great museums — the Johanneum, the Albertinum, 
the Zwinger and the Grfine Gewolbc — in which opulent art can 
best be appreciated; the porcelain of the Dresden galleries is 
superb, and few branches of art are unrepresented. Gotha is 
remarkable for its ceramics, Brunswick for enamels (in the 
ducal cabinet). Museums of minor importance exist at Hanover, 
Cbn, Wflrtburg, Danzig and Liibeck. 

The central museum of France, the Louvre, was founded 
as a pablic institution during the Revolutionary period. It 
J.,, contains the collections of Francois I., Louis XIV., 

and the Napoleons. Many works of art have been 
added to it from royal palaces, and collections formed by dis- 
tingtrished connoisseurs (Campana, Sauvageot, La Caze) have 
been iDcorporated in it. The Greek sculpture, including the 
Venus of Melos and the Nik£ of Samothrace, is of pre-eminent 
fame. Other departments are well furnished, and from a 
technical point of view the manner in which the officials have 
overcome structural difficulties in adapting the palace to the 
needs of an art museum is most instructive. The Cluny 
Museum, bought by the dty in 1842, and subsequently 
transfeiTed to the state, supplements the medieval collections 
of the Louvre, being a storehouse of select works of art. It 
suSei^ Iwwever, from being overcrowded, while for purposes 
of study it is badly lighted. At the same time the Maison 
Cluny b a wcU-fumished house, decorated with admirable 
things, and as such has a special didactic value of its own, 
correspooding in this respect with Hertford House and the 
iVMi-Pezzoli Gallery at Milan — collections which are more than 
musenntt, since they show in the best manner thcadaptation of 
artistic taste to domestic life. The French provincial museums 
are numeroos and important. Twenty-two were established 
eaiiy in the 19th century, and received 1000 pictures as gifts 
from the state, numbers of which were not returned in 181 5 to 
the coontries whence they were taken. The best of these 
mittcums are at Lyons; at Dijon, where the tombs of Jean sans 
Pear and Philip the Bold are preserved; at Amiens, where the 
capital Musfe de Picardie was built in 1850; at Marseilles and at 
Bajreiuc, where the " Tapestry " is well exhibited. The collcc- 
tiims of Lille, Bordeaux, Toulouse, and Avignon are also impor- 
tant. The objects shown in these museums are chiefly local 
giraninef, consisting largely of church plate, furniture, together 



with sculpture, carved wood, and pottery, nearly everything 
being French in origin. In many towns Roman antiquities and 
early Qiristian relics are preserved (e.;. Autun, Nlmes, Aries 
and Luzeuil), Other collections controlled by municipalities 
are kept at Rouen, Douai, Montpellier, Chartres (14th-century 
sculptures), Grenoble, Toulon, Ajaccio, £pinal (CaroUngian 
objects), Besancon, Bourges, Le Mans (with the remarkable 
enamel of Geoffrey of Anjou), Nancy, Aix and in many other 
towns. As a rule, the public i% admitted free of charge, special 
courtesy being shown to foreigners. In many cases the collections 
are ill cared for and uncatalogued, and little money is provided 
for acquisitions in the civic museums; indeed, in this respect the 
great national institutions contrast unfavourably with British 
establishments, to which purchase grants are regularly made. 

The national, dvic and papal museums of Italy are so numerous 
that a few only can be mentioned. The best arranged and best 
classified collection is the Museo Nazionale at Naples, ^^ 
containing many thotoand examples of Roman ^^' 
art, chiefly obtained from the immediate neighbourhood. For 
historical importance it ranks as primus inter pares with the 
collections of Rome and the Vatican. It is, however, the only 
great Italian museum where scientific treatment is consistently 
adopted. Other museums of purely dassical art arc found at 
Syracuse, Cagliari and Palermo. Etruscan art is best displayed 
at Arezzo, Perugia (in the university), Cortona, Florence (Museo 
Archeologico), Volterra and the Vatican. The Florentine 
museums arc of great importance, consisting of the archaeological 
museum of antique bronzes, Egyptian art, and a great number of 
tapestries. The Museo Nazionale, housed in the Bargello (a.d. 
1260), is the central depository of Tuscan art. Numerous 
examples of Delia Robbia ware have been gathered together, 
and are fixed to the walls in a manner and position which reduce 
their value to a minimum. The plastic arts of Tuscany are 
represented by DonatcUo, Verrocchio, Ghiberti, and Cellini, 
while the Carrand collection of ivories, pictures, and varied 
medieval specimens is of much interest. This museum, like so 
many others, is becoming seriously overcrowded, to the lasting 
detriment of churches, market-places, and streets, whence these 
works of art are being ruthlessly removed. The public is admitted 
free one day a week, and the receipts are devoted to art and 
antiquarian purposes (" tasse . . . destinate . . . alia conver- 
sazione dei monument!, all' ampliamento dcgli scavi, ed' all* 
increraento dei instituti . . . nella cittiL." — Law of 1875, (5). 
The museums of Rome are numerous, the Vatican alone contain- 
ing at least six— Museo Clementino, of classical art, uith the 
Laocoon, the Apollo Belvedere, and other masterpieces; the 
Chiaramonti, also of classical sculpture; the Gallery of Inscrip- 
tions; the Egyptian, the Etruscan and the Christian museums. 
The last is an extensive coUection corresponding with another 
papal museum in the Lateran Palace, also known as the Christian 
Museum (founded 1843), and remarkable for its sarcophagi and 
relics from the catacombs. The Lateran has also a second 
museum known as the Museo Profano. Museums belonging 
to the state arc equally remarkable. The Kircher Museum deals 
with prehistoric art, and contains the " Preneste Hoard." The 
Museo Nazionale (by the Baths of Diocletian), the Museo Capi- 
tolino, and the Palazzo dei Conservatori contain innumerable 
spedmcns of the finest classical art, vases, bronzes, mosaics, 
and statuary, Greek as well as Roman. Among provincial 
museums there are few which do not possess at least one or two 
objects of signal merit. Thus Brescia, besides a medieval 
collection, has a famous bronze Victory. Pesaro, Urbino, and 
the Museo Correr at Venice have admirable examples of majolica; 
Mflan, Pisa and Genoa have general archaeology combined with 
a good proportion of mediocrity. The civic museum of Bologna 
is comprehensive and well arranged, having Egyptian, classical, 
and Etruscan collections, besides many things dating from the 
" Bella Epoca " of Italian art. At Ravenna alone can the 
Byzantine art of Italy be properly understood, and it is most 
deplorable that the superb collections in its fine galleries should 
remain uncatalogued and neglected. Turin, Siena, Padua, and 
other towns have dvic museums. 



64 



MUSEUMS OF SCIENCE 



ffonlii 



The Ryks Museum at Amsterdam, containing the national 
collections of Holland, is a modern building in whidi a series 
B9fglmm of historical rooms are furnished to show at a glance 
MBd the artistic progress of the Dutch at any given period. 

HoUaad, ^1^^ rooms are also devoted to the chronological 
display of ecclesiastical art. Besides the famous paintings, this 
museum (the sole drawback of which is the number of rooms 
which have no top light) contains a libraiy, many engravings, a 
comprehensive exhibit of armour, costume, metal-work, and a 
department of maritime craftsmanship, Arnhem and Haarlem 
have municipal collections. At Ldden the university maintains 
a scholarly collection of antiquities. The Hague and Rotterdam 
have also museums, but everything in Holland is subordinated 
to the development of the great central depository at Amsterdam, 
to which examples are sent from all parts of the country. In 
Belgium the chief museum, that of ancient industrial art, is at 
Brussels. It contains many pieces of medieval church furniture 
and decoration, but in this xespect differs only in size from the 
civic museums of Ghent and Luxemburg and the Archbishop's 
Museum at Utrecht. In Brussels, however, there is a good show 
of Frankish and Carolingian objects. The dty of Antwerp 
maintains the Mus^ Flantin, a printing establishment which has 
survived almost intact, and presents one of the most charming 
and instructive museums in the world. As a whole, the 
museums of Belgium are disappointing, though, per contra^ the 
churches are of enhanced interest, not having been pillaged for 
the benefit of museums. 

New museums are being fotmded in Rus»a every year. 
Rharkoff and Odessa (the university) have already large collec- 
tions, and in the most remote parts of Siberia it is 
curious to find carefully chosen collections. Krasno- 
yarsk has X 2,000 specimens, a storehouse of Buriat art. Irkutsk 
the capital, Tobolsk, Tomsk (university), Khabarovsk, and 
Yakutsk have now museums. In these Russian art naturally 
predominates. It is only at Moscow and St Petersburg that 
Western art is found. The Hermitage Palace in the latter city 
contains a selection of medieval objects of fabulous value, there 
being no less than forty early ivories. But from a national point 
of view these collections are insignificant when compared with 
the gold and silver objects illustrating the primitive arts and 
ornament of Scythia, Crimea and Caucasia, the high standard 
attained proving an advanced stage of manual skill. At Moscow 
(historical museum) the stone and metal relics are scarcely less 
interesting. There is also a museum of industrial art, the speci- 
mens of which are not of unusual value, but being analogous to 
the Kunstgewcrbe movement in Germany, it exercises a whole- 
some influence upon the designers who study in its schools. 

American museums are not oonunitted to traditional systems, 
and scientific treatment is allowed its fullest scope. They exist 
in great numbers, and though in some cases their 
exhibits are chiefly ethnographic, a far wider range 
of art objects is rapidly being secured. The National Museum 
at Washington, a bmnch of the Smithsonian Institution (9.9.), 
while notable for its American historical and ethnological 
exhibits, has the National Gallery of Art. The Metropolitan 
Museum of Art (held by trustees for the benefit of the city 
of New York) has in the Ccsnola collection the most complete 
series of Cypriot art objects. It has also departments of coins, 
Greek sculpture and general examples of European and American 
art. The Museum of Fine Arts at Boston is very comprehensive, 
and has a remarkable collection of ceramics, together with good 
reproductions of antique art. There are museums at St 
Louis, Chicago, Pittsburg, Brooklyn, Cincinnati, Buffalo and 
Washington, as well as Montreal in Canada; and the universities 
of Harvard, Chicago, Pennsylvania and Yale have important 
collections. 

The Swiss National Museum is situated at Ztlrich, and though 

of medium siae (50 rooms), it is a model of arrangement and 

^^ organization. Besides the special feature of rooms 

cSaSn, fllustrating the historical progress of art, its collection 

of stained glass is important. Basel also (historical 

museum) is but little inferior in contents or system to the Zttrich 



AutwIeMt 



establishment (Geneva has three collections. Lausanne holds 
the museum of the canton, and Bern has a municipal collection. 
All these institutions are well supported financially, and are 
much appreciated by the Swiss public The art museums of 
Stockholm, Christlania and Copenhagen rank high for their 
intrinsic excellence, but still more for their scientific and didactic 
value. Stockholm has three museums: that of the Royal 
Palace, a collection of costume and armour; the Northern 
Museum, a large collection of domestic art; the National 
Museum, containing the prehistoric collections, gold omamenta, 
&c., classified in a brilliant manner. The National Museum 
of Denmark at Copenhagen is in this respect even more famous, 
being probably the second national collection in the world. The 
arrangement of this collection leaves little to be desired, and it 
is to be regretted that some British collections, in themselves of 
immense value, cannot be shown, as at Copenhagen, in a manner 
which would display their great merits to the fullest degree. 
There is also at Copenhagen a remarkable collection of antique 
busts (Gamie Glyptotek), and the Thorwaldsen Museum con- 
nected with the sculptor of that name. Norse antiquities are 
at Christiania (the university) and Bergen. Athens has three 
museums, all devoted to Greek art: that of the Acropolis, that 
of the Archaeological Society (vases and terra-cotta) and the 
National Museum of Antiquities. The state owns all discoveries 
and these are accumulated at the capital, so that local museums 
scarcely exist. The collections, which rapidly increase, are of 
great importance, though as yet they cannot vie with the 
aggregate in other European countries. The Museum of 
Egyptian Antiquities (Cairo), founded by Mariette Bey at Bulak, 
afterwards removed to theGiza palace and developed by Maspero, 
is housed in a large building erected in 1902, wdl classified, and 
h'berally supported with money and fresh acquisitions. Minor 
museums exist at Carthage and Tunis. At Constantinople the 
Turkish Museum contains some good classical sctilpture and a 
great deal of rubbish. The Museo del Prado and the Archaeo- 
logical Museum at Madrid are the chief Spanish collections, 
containing niunerous classical objects and many specimens of 
Moorish and early Spanish art. In Spain museums are badly 
kept, and their contents are of indifferent value. The museums 
of the chief provinces are situated at Barcebna, Valencia, 
Granada and Seville. Cadiz and Cordova have also sadly 
neglected dvic collections. The National Museum of Portugal at 
Lisbon requires no special conunent. The progress of Japan 
is noticeable in its museums as in its industrial enterprise. The 
National Museum(Weno Park, TOkyO) is large and well arranged 
in a new building of Western ardiitecture. KiOtG and Nara 
have excellent museums, exclusively of Oriental art, and two or 
three other towns have smaller establishments, induding com- 
merdal museums. There are several museums in India, the 
chief one being at Calcutta, devoted to Indian antiquities. 

The best history ctf museums can be found in the prefaces and 
introductions to their official catalogues, but the following works 
will be useful for reference: Annual Reports presented to Parliament 
(official) of British Museum and Board of Education; Civil Service 
Estimates, Class IV., annually presented to Parliament; Second 
Report of Select Committee of House of Commons on Museums of 
Science and Art Department (offidal: i vol., 1898); Annual Reports 
of the Museum Association (London); Edward Edwards, The Fine 
Arts in England (London, 1840); Professor Stanley Jevons, " Use 
and Abuse of Museums," printed in Methods of Social Reform 

i London, 1882); Report of Committee on Provmdal Museums, 
(cport of British Association (London, 1887): Thos. Greenwood, 
Museums and Art Galleries (London, 1888) ; Professor Brown Goode, 
Museums of the Future, Report on the National Museum for 1889 
(Washington, 1891) ; Principles cf Museum Administration; Report ol 
Museum Association (London, 1895) ; Mariotti, La LegisioMtone ddle 
belle arti. (Rome, 1893); L. B^nidite, Rapport sur Por^itisation 
. . . dans Us mushs de la Grande Bretaene (offidal; Pans, 1805); 
^r William Flower, Essays on Museums (London, 1898); Le Ccllerie 
nazionali iialiane (x vols., Rome, 1894); D. Murray, Museums: 
Their History and Use, wttk BiUiograpky and List of Museums in 
the United Kingdom (3 vols., 1904). (B.) 

MUSEUMS OF SCIENCE. The ideal museum should cover 
the whole Add of human knowledge. It should teach the 
truths of all the sdences, induding anthropology, the sdence 
which deals with man and all his works in every age.- All the 



MUSEUMS OF SCIENCE 



6S 



idcBces and all the arts are correlated. The wide separation 
of ooUectioQsillustTative of the arts (see MusEOUS or AaT above) 
ftom tboae illustrative of the sciences, and their treatment as 
if bdonging to a wholly different sphere, is arbitrary. Such 
■epaiation, which is to-day the rule rather than the exception, 
b doe to the circumstances of the origin of many collections, 
or in other cases to tht limitations imposed by poverty or lack 
of space. 3iany of the national museums of continental Europe 
had their heginningt in odlections privately acquired by 
monardiSt who, at a time when Vbc modem sdenoes were in their 
infancy, entertained themsdves by assembling objects which 
apprairri to their love of the beautiful and the curious. The 
pictoics, marbles, bronzes and bric^brac of the palace became 
the nndbeos of the museum of to-day, and in some notable cases 
the palace xtsdf was converted into a museum. In a few instances 
these flauseums, in which works of art had the first place, have 
been eoficlied and supplemented by collections illustrative of 
the advancing sciences of a later date, but in a majority of cases 
these collections have remained what they were at the outset, 
mere exponents of human handicraft in one or the other, or all 
of its various departments. Some recent great foundations 
have copied the more or less defective models of the past, and 
nmscunis devoted exdusivefy to the illustration of one or the 
other narrow segment of knowledge will no doubt continue to 
be muUlpUed, and in spite of their limited range, will do much 
good. A notable illustration of the influence of lack of space 
in bringing about a separation of anthropological collections 
from odlectioas illustrative of other sciences is afforded by the 
natiooal collection in London. For many years the collections 
of the British Museum, literary, artistic and scientific, were 
assembled in ideal rdationship in Bkwmsbury, but at last the 
accomulation of treasure became so vast and the difiiculties of 
administiation were so pressing that a separation was decided 
upon, and the natural history collections were finally removed 
to the separate museum in Cromwell Raid, South Kensington. 
But the student of museums can never fail to regret that the 
nrmaitifit of space and financial considerations compelled this 
itparation, which in a measure destroyed the ideal relationship 
which had for so many years obtained. 

The ancient world knew nothing of museums in the modem 
sense of the term. There were collections of paintings and 
statuary in the temples and palaces of Greece and Rome; the 
homes of the wealthy were everywhere adorned by works of art; 
curious objects of natural histoiy were often brought from afar, 
as the duns of the female gorillas, which Hanno after his voyage 
on the west coaU of Africa hung up in the temple of Aslarte at 
Carthage; Alexander the Great granted to his illustrious teacher, 
Aristotle, a large sum of money for use in his scientific researches, 
sent him natural history collections from conquered 'lands, and 
pot at Us service thousands of men to collect specimens, upon 
which be based his work on natural history; the museum of 
Alexandria, which included within its keeping the Alexandrian 
Gbrary, was a great university composed of a number of associated 
cotte«es; but there was nowhere in all the andent world an 
nistitQtion which exactly corresponded in its scope and purpose 
to the modem museum. The term "museum," after the 
bemmg of the great institution of Alexandria, appears to have 
fallen into dsuse from the 4th to the X7th centuiy, and the idea 
which the word represented sh'pped from the minds of men. 

The revival of learning in the isth century was accompanied 
by an awakening of interest in classical antiquity, and many 
penens laboured eagerly upon the collection of memorials of 
the past. Statuary, inscriptions, gems, coins, medals and manu- 
aaipts were assembled by the wealthy and the learned. The 
leaden in this movement were presently followed by others who 
devoted themselves to the search for minerals, plants and curious 
aaimab. Among the more famous early collectors of objects 
of oataral history may be mentioned Georg Agricola ( 1490-1 555), 
«ho has been styled "the father of mineralogy." By his 
hbofms the elector Augustus of Saxony was inducui to establish 
the Kmmst umd Naiwalien Kammer, which has since expanded 
hito the TarioQS museums at Dresden. One of his contempo- 



raries was Conrad Gesner of ZQrich (1516-1565), " the German 
Pliny," whose writings are still resorted to by the curious. 
Others whose names are familiar were Pierre B^ion (1517-1564), 
professor at the CoU^c de France; Andrea Cesalpini (1519-1603), 
whose herbarium is still preserved at Florence; Ulissi Alchovandi 
(i52»-x6o5), remnants of whose collections still exist at Bologna; 
Oie Worm (1588-1654), a Danish physician, after whom the so- 
called " Wormian bones " of the skull are named, and who was 
one of the first to cultivate what is now known as the science 
of prehistoric archaeology. At a later date the collection of 
Albert Seba (1665-1736) of Amsterdam became famous, and 
was purchased by Peter the Great in 17 16, and removed to 
St Petersburg. In Great Britain among early collectors were 
the two Tradescants; Sir John Woodward (1665-1728), a portion 
of whose collections, bequeathed by him to Cambridge University 
is still preserved there in the Woodwardian or Geological Museum ; 
Sir James Balfour (1600-1657), and Sir 'Andrew Balfour (163&- 
1694), whose work was continued in part by Sir Robert Sibbald 
(1641-1722). The first person to elaborate and present to modem 
minds the thought of an institution which should assemble 
within its walls the things which men wish to see and study was 
Bacon, who in his New AOaniis (1627) broadly sketched the 
outline of a great national museum of science and art. 

The first surviving scientific museum established upon a 
substantial basis was the Ashmolean Museum at Oxford, 
founded by Elias Ashmole. The original collection had been 
made by the Tradescants, father and son, gardeners who were 
in the employment of the duke of Buckingham and later of King 
Charles I. and his queen; it consisted of " twelve cartloads of 
curiosities," principally from Virginia and Algiers, which the 
younger Tradescant bequeathed to Ashmole, and which, after 
much litigation with Tradescant's widow, he gave to Oxford 
upon condition that a suitable building should be provided. 
Tliis was done in 1682 after plans by Sir Christopher Wren. 
Ashmole in his diary makes record, on the 17th of February 
1683, that " the last load of my rareties was sent to the barge, 
and this afternoon I relapsed into the gout." 

The establishment of the German academy of Naturae 
Curion in 1652, of the Royal Society of London in 1660, and of 
the Acad^mie des Sciences of Paris in 1666, i^^iparted a powerful 
impulse to scientific investigation, which was reflected not only 
in the labours of a multitude olf persons who undertook the 
formation of private scientific collections, but in the initiation 
by crowned heads of movements looking toward the formation 
of national collections, many of which, having their beginnings 
in the Utter half of the 17th century and the early years of the 
x8th century, survive to the present day. 

The most famous of all English collectors in his time was 
Sir Hans Sloane (1660-1753), whose vast collection, acquired at 
a great outlay of money, and including the collections of Petiver, 
Courten, Merret, Plukenet, and Buddie — ^all of which he had 
purchased — was by his will bequeathed to the British nation on 
condition that parliament should pay to his heirs the sum of 
£20,000, a sum far less than that which he had expended upon it, 
and representing, it is said, only the value of the coins which it 
contained. Sloane was a man who might justly have said of 
himself " humani nihil a me alienum puto "; and his collection 
attested the catholicity of lus tastes and the breadth of his 
scientific appetencies. The bequest of Sloane was accepted 
upon the terms of his will, and, together with the library of 
George II., which had likewise been bequeathed to the nation, 
was thrown open to the public at Bloomsbury in 1759 as the 
British Museum. As sho^ng the great advances which have 
occurred in the administration of museums since that day, the 
following extract taken from A Guide- Book to the Generat 
Contents of the British Museum, published in 1761, is interest- 
ing: ". . . fifteen persons are allowed to view it in one Company, 
the Time allotted is two Hours; and when any Number not 
exceeding fifteen are inclined to see it, they must send a List of 
their Christian and Siroames, Additions, and Phices of Abode, to 
the Porter's Lodge, in order to their being entered in the Book; 
in a few Days the respective Tickets will be nuRe out, specifying 



MUSEUMS OF SCIENCE 



the Day uid Hour in whkh tbey ue to come, which, on being 
lent [or, are delivered. If by any Accidenl lome of tlie Fanicj 
ue prcveDled from coming, it ii proper they tend their 
Ticket back la tlic Lodge, aa nobody can be udeulted with it 
but thenuclvei. It is to be tematked that the fenet Name* tbeie 
tie in  LLt. the lOOScr they are likely la be adDiitled (a >ee ll." 
The olablishmenl oi the British Muieum was caioddent in 
lime wilh the development of the syitemalic study of ntlute, 
of which Linnaeus was it Ihat time the mast dislingulthed 
exponent. The modem sciences, the wonderful triumphs of 
which have revoiuliaiuEed Ihe world, were just emerging from 
their infancy. Museums were speedily found to furnish the 
best agency for preserving Ihe records of advancing knowledge, 
so far as these consisted of the materialt upon wbicb the invtsti- 



ihe student, either during his lifetime or at his death, 
to the permanent custody aS museums Ihe coltcclioiis upon 
which he had based his sludies ajid obaervalionl. Muieumiwere 
Ihenceforth rapidly multiplied, and came to be universally 
regarded as proper repositories for iciemilic coUcciions of all 

tians of the learned came presently to be associated with their 
use a> seals of original uive^tigaiion and roeirch. Collections 
of new and rare objects which had not yet received atteniive 
. atudy came into Ibeir poaseuion. Voyages of eiploraiion 
into unknown lands, undertaken at public or priviie expense, 
added continually lo their tieasura. The comparison of newer 
collections with older collecliaui which had been already made 
Ihe subject of study, was underiaken. New iruihs were thus 
ascertained. A body of sludenii was attracted lo ihc muMumi, 
who in a few years by their invesiigations began not only lo add 
.0 Ihe sum of human knowledge, but by Ibeir publications lo 



The 3 



>ii the ii 



[«!y fo 



with which th 



■d by pr 



t> hold a wcIl-recognized p 



.ta and pi 



y of popularizing knowledge 
came 10 be more thoroughly recognized than it had heretofore 
been, museums were found lo be peculiarly adapted in certain 
respects lor the promotion of Ihe culture of the masses. They 

records and seals of original research, but powerful educational 
agencies, in which by object lessons Ihe most Imponani iruihi of 
icience were capable of being pleasantly imparled to mulliludes. 
The old narrow testricliona were thrown down. Their A»is 
were freely opened to the peofde. and at Ihe beginning of the 
loth century the movement for the establishment of museums 
assumed a magnitude scarcely, if at all, less than Ihe movement 
on behalf of the diftu^ion of popular knowledge through public 
libraries. While great national museums have been founded and 
all Ihc large municipalities of Ihe world through private or civic 
gills have established museums within their limits, a muliiiude 
of lesser towns, and even in some cases villages, have established 

high schools have come lo be rccogniaed as almost indispensable. 
The movement has assumed its greaiesl proportions in Great 
Brilain and her colonies, Ceimany. and the United Slates of 
America, although in many other lands it has already advanced 

There are now in existence in the world, exclusive of museums 
of an, not less than looo scienlilic museums whirh possess in 
Ihemselvei elements of permanence, some of which are splendidly 
supported by public munificence, and a number of which have 
been richly endowed by private benefactions. 

Crrai Brilain and /rcfand.— The greatest museum in London 
fl the British Museum. The natural history departmenl at 
South Kensington, wilh its wealth of types deposited there. 

worhl. The Museum of Practical Geology in Jcrmyn Street 
contains a beiuiilul and well-airanged collection of rouierila 
■nd  very complete series of specimens illuitralive of the 



petra)[raphy and 'the invertebrate paleontology of the Briliib 
Islands. The botanical collections at Kew are classic, and are 
as rich in types as are the loological coUecIions of the British 
Museum. The Huntcrian Museum of the Royal CoUege of 

anatomy, both human and con^iaiative, ai well as pathology. 
In London also a number of private owners possess large collec- 
tions of natural history specimens, principally orniihological, 
entomological and cnncliolagical, in some instances destined to 
find a final resting place in the UBIiDnal collection. One of Ihe 
most important of ihese great collections ia thai fonned by F.. 
I>ucane Godmin, whose work on the fauna of middle America, 
entitled BiolB[ia ctnlrali-amtriana. is an enduring monument 
to his learning and generosity. The Hon. Waller RotbschUd 
has accumulated at Tring one of the largest and most important 
natural history collections which has ever been assembled by  
single individual. It is particularly rict ' . . >■ . 



nilhological and enlomological collections are va 
id rich in types. Lord Walsingham has at hii c 
;erton Hall, near Thetfotd, Ihc largest and i 
Election of Ibe microlepidoptera of the world 






Cambridge, ar 
at Liverpool 
successfully a 



an Museum and the University Mi 

remarkable collections. TheFrce 
s in some respects one of the : 
ranged museums in Great Brila 

lily of birds. The Manchester M 



il Mus> 



ir the t 



leaf sc 



growth and has bi _^ ^. 

The Royal Scottish Museum, the herbarium of the Royal 
Botanical Garden, and Ihe coUeclions of the Challengei Eipe- 
dition ORice in Edinburgh, are wonhy of particular mention. 
The museum ol ihe university of Glasgow and the Glasgow 
Museum contain valuable collections. The museum ol St 
Andrews Univervly is very rich in material illuslraiing marine 
loology, and so also arc ihe coUecliona of University College at 



Ireland some two hundred 

roUections which cannot he 

iriy by those interested 



■nd archaeology, 

e Geological Museui 



Geological Survey of India, and the herbarium of the Royal Boianic 
Garden in Calcuiu. are richly endowed wilh colleclioni illusitaiing 
the natural history of Hindoitan and (diueni couniriea. The 
finest collection of Ihe vertebrate foiiili of tlie Siwalik Hills It that 
found in Ihe Indian Museum. The Victoiia and Albert Muicum in 
Bombay and the Government Museum in Madraa are tnaliluiiona 

,1 ..j'..:'„i— Tlio OucEnsland Museum, and the museum of (he 
Gl'i'l <:i.:.il '^uncv c[ Queensland located in Brilbane. and the 

 ' ' ' "^"'^ "  °  i o( New Souih'^E,''L X'^re 



Ih. uni, 



The m 



I'y ol Sydney, tlx museum of the Ccologiral 

coii.^iiwii. The muKum ai Adelaide it notewonliy. 

,'.V-j' Zii^iixJ.—O'iod ccUxiinm an tami in tlie Oiaga Muvum, 
Djn.iliii. Ihc Cnnlcibuiy Museum at Christ Church, the Auckland 
M.,v „nt :>i Auckbnd. and ihe Cotonial Muieumai Wellington. 

io.m AJ„a.—ni! South African Mvteun al Capetown It a 
flourithing and imporunl inuitutioa. which hat done eictllcni 
work in tlie fiild of SiHiih African loology. A muieum bat been 

ff^P'.— Archacok^ical itudiei overshadow all ahera in the land 
of the Nile, and Ihe tiilcndid coHectioni of ihe great mineum ol 
antiquities at Cairo find noihing to parallel Ihem.n the domain ol 
Ihc piircly natural sciences Ii geol«ica1 muieum wat. however, 
etlibliihed .n the autumn ol too], andln viewol recent remarfc.ble 
paleoniologKalditcovennin Egypt postesiei brilliant opporiunitiet 



-_ _e naitatiit Latal iD'Oatbee. 

.. .n Montnl. ud Ihc uidvinty <J Tsroou 

McGUlCoVc^ CDdtaiai impoftAOI collc^iom 

DUunJ huiury, more puticuhrLy boUny. 

m u Vkxaria. Brtlufa Colunbia. i> fiewiaf la 

'a btiiin to tttabtUh u Otun 

xli tkt DomiidoB  nuisul 

lortheimiiiDiioaofculliii*. 

>■ of Buv of the ludni dou of Icandat, lueh u t be Eul( 
_ Smftriimt ia Mmti, the Inaitl MumhJ Apfamiam. 
m TmrioD louiKd ■OQetiOk ue coUccdoiH of fRAtcr a kh 

, fbe JTiutini tHUtin HUur^^iht Jertiii 




MUSEUMS OF SCIENCE 67 

■phicil ud BBihrDpolotial coIlectJBBi it^ BsdapMt Tbe 



■R (hr two most imporuuit iudtucuHU iTam the ttMadpoim IH Ibe 
vitsnlHt. T^ fannB-ift ridi in etlutognpluc and zoojogicol matrnal 
Imghi fmn [he Caa(ii Ficc Sutc, ud the laiwr coaniiu very 
jUnorttAI pelemlDkn^ coUectioiu. 

^MIkA— The nlc^ Rimim ol the Km'iiUjt Ztileiijck 
rii—rfBJii*. mfiBued vitb tbe univenty et Am*tenl«Di» if wtU 
ka^ra. Tee nvyal nii i irf i in » connrcted with Ibe univcnity ol 

^ Dammmrk.—TbB Nitiaae] Miueum ft Copcnbifoi it jarticuluiy 

ethookini ud Ih^ Naturkiilmiha Ri' 
wtoJogicu, ■" '  '  ' 



boUDiol end eichuologic 
with lb* luiivmjiy ol Upul: 



Be mxAepf moKttutoA in 
en, — Gonuy ie rich in 
winpanwo. Tba Jf • 

— , el ■imom. Ibe tnthi 

naettB ead tbe wicultun] : 
X int BeatioDM brine pa 






c3 brine perticobriy rich v. . 

im, the M UKum Gode^oy iiv i 

' iirportant private o  
^jiBEnDenuTiiiiparti^c i 

. — eibmloiiit. Tite Roeuicr .'< 

the beii (eoviiiciil miueuiH in G 
■--*— Bnia«ltiuybccilitd"3 
''^■o'qlaikaL SH4D(toil ai 
iportuu from the ' 



— tkt d bcuv parikiilifly zieb la paleoniDlDgice] t 
"" —  ■-- 3 of StDlt(in ie lil '— - 







utomlal Dincuni, ue noccwonhy. 

be Genua univcratir* ud in alirciat 

1 ud ciliei are to be found miueunu, in many of 

-E ece iaportut uaemblin illuitrating not only the 
ury irf tbe jnDediale sriffibourhood, but in e multitude 
T^.^ uioainiRt iaoonant ouieriii coDected In iorcign bnilt. 
ee cJ tbe Baoet intereeditt el the Hnelltr mueeunu lilely utabliihtd 

ttatuLObedteiMWlii-' ' -'---' 

A es*-0iiefar7.— Tbe Imi 
Mtrftheac^fai 



rifalunlHIiiuyMuKuiii in Vienna 



w^ arradfed. ibouvh no! remerkably extcoeit 
-The Runuaauor MuMum io Mwow poem 
buildinn, with a library of over 700^000 voluDwe in  
■pindid ailHtic maaunat and ia neb in Dalurai hiilory . 
Il ia one of Ibe nHit magnificenl fouadatiou oHia Idnd in Europe, 
Tben an a number of magnlGcat muanima in S( Pttenbnn which 



*a mditebly cared for aJid er 



lor coDectlonB, 



of IheRuaaianS^iiRtbutalaoof (orcifnuiidL Thertan 

of provincial muaetuna in Ibe laifer dliea of RuBu which arc sniwuig 

in importance. 

Iltly. — Italy b ricb in muaeuma of an, but natural biaiary 
eoDictionB aic not aa itfon^y rtcrtaentWI aa in oCbei landa. Ccn- 
nacKd wilb tbe varioua univenlliea art coUenianB which pcaaeia 
man or kia bnpartaace Froin Ibe atandpoinl of the apedaliiL 
Tbe IfwB Ciria ii Suria HtlmU at Gaioe, and the coUcctian* 
preaerved al the maruie InlaiiaJ Bation at Naplce, have moat 

In Spain. tbaii|h at •" •>- 

PiiWfal.— The n , „ 

[mportadi emitbi^oslcal trreHiree. 

fiulcrh .Iaii.— Tbe iwakrnine of tbe empire of Japu boa reaultcd 
anoag olbs thingi in ifae cultivitioa of Ihe nwdcm adenoa, and 
there arc a Dumber of  ci e nti fi c etudcDta, nxatly naincd in European 

biological and iDied icieDcei. _Vety_<ndlable 

ia  colkdion, gatbcnd ^ Ibe Chj 
Sociely, wfaiu ia in a decadent 
matenal- Otberwiae aa yet Ibe mo 

not laid Kroag hold upon Ibe II 

Bauvia In jav^ arid al btanila In the 

to alabliah muwunu In Ilw 
ent. One oI the very ea^ot 
coueciiona \ioos;, waicn, oowever, wai loon diaperied, ma 
made by Cbarto WiUson Pcale (;.>.). The Academy af Xaluial 
Sctenca in Philadelphia, stablished in i8i>, ii (he oldeil lodety 
for the proTQotion of the natural idencea Is Ihe United Slilea. 
It postesMi a very important library ud lome moal etcetlent 
cDUeciiona, and ia rich ii< omiiholo^csl, conchological and 
bolanical type). The dty of Philadelphia also poinU with pride 
la the free muwuin of archaeology coDDecled wilb the univcnity 
of Penniylvaaia, ud to the Pbiladelpbii museums, tbe latltr 
muteuras oI commerce, but which indileiitally do much to pto- 
mole sdeniiEc knowledge, espedally in the domain of ethnology, 
botany ud mineralogy. Tbe Wiitar Instilute of Anatomy 
is weU endowed ud organized. The zoological museum at 
Harvard Univervly, Cambtidge, Musadiusetls, is assodaled 
with tbe name* of Louit and Aleiaodet Agauiz, the former of 
whom by hit learning and activity as a coUeclor, ud Ihe taltet 
by hli munificent gifts, aa well aa by his impotlanl rescardies, 
not only created the instiiuiion, but made it a potent agency 
(or Ibe advancement of sdence. The Peabody Museum of 
American Archaeology ud Ethnology, likewise connected with 
Harvard Univeraiiy, ia one of Ihe greatest inslituiions of in 
kind In the New World. Tbe Essex Institute at Salem, Maiaa- 
chusetts, is noteworiby. Tbe Butterfield Museum, Dartmouth 
College, Hanover, New Hampdiire, and the Fairbanks Museum 
of Natural Sdence (1S91) at St Johnibuty, Vermont, are im. 
portint modem instiluiions. In the museum of Ambcnl 
College are pieHrved tbe typea of tbe birds described by J. J. 
Audubon, tbe abells described by C, B. Adams, tbe mineialogica] 
collections of Cbaila Ufiham Shcpaid, ud the paleonli^gical 
coUeciioDs of President Hitchcock. In Springfield (1898) 
and Worcester, Massachusetts, there an acellcnt museums. 
The Peabody Museum of Natural Hislory al Yale Univcnity, 
New Haven, Connecticut, contains much of the palcontrdogical 
material described by Professor 0, C. Marsh. The New 
York State Museum al Albany is important from a geological 
and paleontologiQil staadpoiDt. The American Museum of 
Natural History in New York City, founded in iBiSo, proviuon 
for tbe growth and eniargemept of which upon a scale of the 



68 



MUSEUMS OF SCIENCE 



THE CARNEGIE INSTITUTE 

Pittsburg, Penn,U.S.A. 

Plan of First Floor. 

Refereaoe. 

A. Main intranet to institute 

B. intranet to Main Auditorium 

C. Main intranet to Librarif 
z. Adminiatration Roomt of institute 

2. Public Comfort Rooms 

3, Administratiue Rooms o/UOrary 




MUSGRAVE— MUSH 



69 



vtmoflt mignifimicc has been made, ii liberally fupportcd 
both by public and private manificence. The ethnographical, 
paleoatalogical and archaeological material gathered within 
its mils » itnmt^9m in extent and supv bly displayed. The 
mnaeum of the New York botanical garden in Bronx Park is 
a wtHthy rival to the museums at Kew. The Brooklyn Institute 
of Alts and Sciences combines with collections illustrative of 
the arts excellent collections of natural history, many of which 
are rli^ wr 

Tbe United States National Museum at Washington, under 
the control of the Smithsonian Institution, of which it is a depart- 
ment, has been made the repository for many years past of the 
scientific and artistic collections coming into the possession of 
the government. The growth of the material entrusted to its 
keeping has, more particularly in recent years, been enormous, 
and the odlections have wholly outgrown the q>ace provided 
in the wiginal building, built for it during the incumbency 
of Professor Spencer F. Baird as secretaiy of the Smithsonian 
Institatiott. The congress of the United States has in recent 
years made provision for the erection of a new building upon 
the Han in Washington, to which the natural history collections 
are ultimately to be transferred, the old buildings to be retained 
for the diq>Iay of collections illustrating the progress of the arts, 
ontil replaced by a building of better constructk>n for the same 
purpose. The United States National Museum has published 
a great deal, and has become one of the most important agencies 
for the diffusion of idcntific knowledge in the country. It is 
Hberally snpported by the government, and makes use of the 
scientific men connected with all the various departments of 
actnrity under government contrtd as agents for research. The 
collections of the United States Geological Survey, as well as 
many of the more important scientific collections made by the 
Department of Agriculture, are deposited here. 

As the result of the great Columbian international exposition, 
which took i^ace in 2893, a movement originated in the city of 
Chicaflo, where the eq>osition was held, to form a permanent 
collection of large proportions. The great building in which 
the international exposition of the &ie arts was di^Iayed 
was preserved as the temporary home for the new museum. 
MarihaH Field contributed Sx ,000,000 to the furtherance of 
the enterprise, and in his honour the institution was called 
"The Fidd Columbian Museum." The growth of this 
in^tntion was very rapid, and Mr. Field, at his death, in 
1906, bequeathed to the museum $8,000,000, half to be 
MppUed to the erection of a new building, the other half to consu- 
late an endowment fund, in addition to the revenues derived 
from the endowment already existing. The city of Chicago 
provides liberally for the support of the museum, the name 
cf whichy in the spring of 1906, was changed to " The Field 
Moseum of Natural History." The dty of St Louis has taken 
stcps» as the result of the international exposition of 1904, to 
emolate the example of Chicago, and the St Louis Public Musetmi 
was founded under hopeful auspices in X905. 

Probably the most magnificent foundation for the advance- 
ment of science and art in America which has as yet been created 
is the Carnegie Institute in the city of Pittsburg. The Carnegie 
lastitnte » a complex of institutions, consisting of a museum 
of art, a nraseum of sdence, and a school for the education of 
jfooth in the elements of technology. Affiliated with the 
msseoms of art and sdence, and under the same roof, is the 
Central Free Library of Pittsburg. The buildings erected 
for the a«»mmodation of the institute, at the entrance to 
Scbenley Park, cost $8,000,000, and Mr Andrew Carnegie 
provided Hberally for the endowment of the museums of art 
asd science and the. technical school, leaving to the city of 
Pittsburg the maintenance of the gen»al library. The natural 
history collections contained in the museum of sdence, although 
the institation was only founded in 1896, are large and 
haportant, and are particularly rich in mineralogy, geology, 
pdeoiiiology, botany and soology. The entomological collections 
sie among the most Important in the new world. The concho- 
logkal collections are vast, and the paleontological collections 



are among the most Important in America: The great Bayet 
collection is the largest and most complete collection represent- 
ing European paleontology in America. The Carnegie Museum 
contains natural history collections aggregating over 1,500,000 
specimens, which cost approximately £125,000, and these are 
growing rapidly. The ethnological collections, particularly 
those iUust^ting the Indians of the plains, and the archaeologicid 
collections, representing the cultures more particulariy of Costa 
Rica and of Colombia, are large. 

In connexion with almost all the American colleges and 
universities there are museums of more or less importance. 
The Bernice Pauahi Bishop museum at Honolulu is an institution 
established by private munificence, which is doing excellent 
work in the field of Polynesian ethnology and zoology. 

Otktr Amtrican CvwUrits. — The national museum in the dty of 
Mexico has in recent years been recdving iiitdligent cncourageaient 
and support both from the government and by (xivate indrviduals, 
and is coming to be an institution of much importance. National 
museums have been estabUshed.at the capitals of most of the Central 
American and South American states. Some of them repiesjent 
considerable progress, but most of them are in a somewhat languish- 
ing condition. Notable exceptions are the national museum in 
Rio de Janeiro, the Muaeu Paraenst (Museu Goekli). at Par&, the 
Miueu Patdisia at Sfto Paulo, and the national museum in Buenos 
Aires. The latter institution b jMUticulariy rich in paieontdoncal 
collections. There b an excdlent miueura at Valparaiso in Chile, 
which in lecent years has been doing good work. (W. J. H.) 

■U8QRAVB. SAMUEL (1732-1780), English dassical scholar 
and physician, was born st Washfield, in Devonshire, on the 
29th of September 1732. Educated at Oxford and dected 
to a Raddiffe travelling fellowship, he spent several years 
abroad. In 1766 he settled at Exeter, but not meeting with 
professional success removed to Plymouth. He ruined his 
prospects, however, by the publication of a pamphlet in the 
form of an address to the people of Devonshire, in which he 
accused certain members of the English ministry of having been 
bribed by the French government to conclude the peace of 1763, 
and declared that the Chevalier d'Eon de Beaumont, French 
minister plenipotentiary to England, had in his possession 
documents which would prove the truth of his assertion. De 
Beaumont repudiated all knowledge of any citch transaction 
and of Musgrave himself, and the House of Commons in 1770 
dedded that the charge was unsubstantiated. Thus discrediteid, 
Musgrave gained a precarious living in London by his pen until 
hts death, in reduced drcumstances, on the 5th of July 1780. 
He wrote several medical works, now forgotten; and his edition 
of Euripides (z 778) was a considerable advance on that of Joshua 
Barnes. 

See W. Munk, J?a0 <!f lb i20^ Ofi^ie <^ PAyndaM, iL (1878). 

MUSHv the chief town of a sanjak of the same name of the 
Bitlis vilayet of Asiatic Turkey, and an important military 
station. It is situated at the mouth of a gorge in the mountains 
on the south side of the plain, the surrounding hills being covered 
with vineyards and some oak scrul). There are few good houses; 
the streets are Hl-paved and winding, while the place and its 
surroundings are extremdy dirty. The castle, of which there 
are some remains, is said to have been built by Mushig, an 
Armenian king of the province Daron, who founded the town. 
A khan, with two stone lions (Arab or Sdjuk) in bas-relief, 
deserves notice, but the bazaar is poor, although pretty 
embroidered caps are produced. Good roads lead to Erzerum 
and Bitlis. There are 1400 inhabitants, consisting of Kurds 
and Armenians, about equally divided. The climate is healthy 
but cold in winter, with a heavy snow fall. Mush is the seat 
of the Gregorian and Roman Catholic Armenian bishops and 
some American mission schools. Some mOes to the west at 
tBe edge of the plain is the celd>rated monastery of Surp 
Garabed or St John the Baptist, an important place of Armenian 
pilgrimage. 

Mush plain, 35 m. long by 12 broad, is very fertile, growing 
wheat and tobacco, and is dotted with many thriving Armenian 
villages. The Murad or eastern Euphrates traverses the western 
end of the plain and disappears into a narrow mountain gorge 
there. Vineyards are numerous and a fair wine is produced. 



MUSHROOM 






:iKit ind tlie UBil fiid t) tsal or dried ralr-duiig. 

levcnl (ulphui aptingi, and euthqiuka an frequent 
ino Bom«une« Kvcrc. It wu on tbe pkin of Muth thai 
Xsiopbon £i*t made acquiistance wjUi Aimcniaa bouso, 
which have lillle chinged lince hii day. 

■DSHSOOM.' Tbei« aie few more uxful, more euily 
recoga[Md, or raare delidoua memben of tbe vegetable kingdom 
tbaa the commoii muKhrtnm, known botanlcaUy aa A^anaa 
umpatrit (or PiaUieU camfalris). It grows in abort gran 
in tbe temperate regioni of all parti of tbe world. Many 
edibte fungi depend upon minute and often obicute botanical 
characten for their delenninaljon, and may readily tie con- 
tounded with worthlen or poisonoua «pedei; but that ii not the 

ipecies of AtariiMt Bomewbal doaely approach it in form and 
colour, yet the true mushroom, if aound and freshly gathered, may 
be disllnguished from all other fungi with grut ease. It almost 
invariably growl in rich, open, breeiy pastures, in places where 
the grasa L> lept short hy the gtuing of hones, herds and flocks. 
Although (his plant is popularly termed the " meadow mush- 
room," it never as a nde grows in meadows. It nevet growi in 
wet boggy places, never in woods, or on or at>out stumps of frees. 
An eaceptionaJ specimen or an uncommon variety may sometimes 
be seen in the above-mentioned abnormal places, but the best, 
the true, and common variety of the Uble is the produce of short, 
upland, wind-swept pastures. A true inusbroom i> never large in 
lire; its cap very seldom elceedl 4, St most J In. in diameter. 
The large eiainples measuring from 6 to 9 or more in. across 
the cap belong to AcarUta crvnai], callod from its large siie and 
eoar»e telture the horse mushroom, which grows in meadows 
and damp shady places, and though generally wholesome is 
coarse and sometimes indigestible. The mushroom usually 
grown in gardens or hoI-tMds. in cellais. sheds, Ac, Is a distinct 
variety linown as Aiarieui kerltnsis. On being cut or hrokci 
flesh of a true mushroom remains while or nearly 
of the coarser hone mushroom changes to bufl or sometimes co 
dark brown. To summaiiie the characten of a true mushroom 
— it grows only in pastures; it is of small size, dry, and with 
unchangeable flesh; the cap has a frill; the gills are free from the 
stem, the (pores brown-ljlack or deep purple-black in colour, 
and the stem solid or slightly [rithy. When all these char- 
acter! are taken logetbei no other iauibraam.!ike fungus — 
a thousand spedea grow 






foui 



witbit. 



Tbe parta of a muahroom con^it chiefly of Hem and cap;4he Item 
ka a clolhy ring roudd iu middle, and the cap is fpmished undcr- 
Dcath wiih nuneroui radiatiag eskiund ^Us. Fig. 1 (t)repnenu 
» eecIioD thmugh an infant mushnon. (I)  nature "—"p'', 
and {3) a tongitudinal seclioo throu^ a fully developed mushroom. 
Theeapi>, llafleihy, firm and wlute within, never thin and mtery; 
eatemalLy it is pale brown, dry, often alighlly sUlry or floeeoee, 
never viKid. The cuticle of a mushroom readily peela away from 
the flesh beneath, as thowo at r. Tbe cap has a narrow dependent 
rnargin or fritt, as shown at 0. and in section at H ; this dependent 
frill originates In the rupture of a delicate continuous wrapper, 
which jn the infancy of the rauihroom eotirely wraps tbe young 

of rupuii at K. The gills underneath the cap L, K, M are at first 
irhite, then rioee.CDlouied, at length broim'black. A pcdnt of great 
inponanee is to be noted la the attachment of the gills near the stem 
aio, r: the litis In the true muidiroom aro Us shown) dually more 
or less tree fnm Ibe stem, they never grow Wdly against it or run 

A :.. .t_. „,„ «inMimes just louch ■'- -'■ — '■■ 

miJthecati ■- 



joins the bottom <J the cap. __. .._ ._ _ 

... , ,_ ,y roowf the top of the item. Wbei 

IK and the gilii are or 

: dusty deposit of fii 



jp«*«e"yri| 



illy a slight 
ir purple-^ack 



illustrated at q. t); this ring originates by the rupture of tbe thin 

general wrapper a of Ibe infant plant. 
like all widely ipread and much-cultivated plants, the edibte 
■Tbe eariier IJth<entury fonn of the word was niuirmai, 

nuLSetrraH, &c.. and was adapted from (he Freoch auKUfrvn, ^uch 

ii generally coooected with movu, moss. 



mushroom ha* numerous varieties, and It differ* In difiCnOt 
placa atid under different modei of culture in mudi the saiiM 
way aa our kitchen-garden plants differ from tho type they have 
been derived from, and from each other. In some instancet 
these diSerenco are so marked that they have led soma 
- q>edci many lonn* tifua% 




irielies of this have been deacri&Kl under tl 
ittctunani and^. s/^ratw, and other dietioct forms are aoown to 
otanists. A variety also grows in woods named A, liMcek; this 
an only be distiofldlshed from the pasmre muihrooa by its elongated 
lulbous stem and its eactemaDy smooth cap. There la also a fungus 



Ik Wge tank bone ouihnom, i 

rvmiir. is pnjtAbly a vari 
ings in windy pluvi and 
I a luge scaly round oa; 

form of this has been i 



id hedges 
bqui^y 




^' ^"iki ^n^Bee. A 

markets is A. wfalwiu, a iladeri rIdglCH, hollDw-rtemntrd, black- 
gilled fuBfua. cooDon In gardoBS and abour durs and stumpa; it 
u about at liat of a mushnon. but Ihiniier b anils parts and far 
iDon briiile; it basa black hairy frfnge bangii« roand the edge o( the 
cap when fresh. Another sparlous mdshmom, and equally coomoii 
' [ithlsgrcnrsin Ihesame poai- 
ier andDborv like a true muh- 



motilrd and generally studded w.._ _. 

In both these species the gills diatitKtly touch and' grow on I 
- - " ' - I these there, are numerous other blacE-gillcd s| 



MUSHROOM 




i« naUy appoird to nrdnwii 
-BHBiny l(ilki»iaiiUIion»>nt_..-_ .„. .^ 

tin ippar euhb m ui hnioBi-bedi to tu at d i w ion of tbc muih- 
mfiiL ThUducoDiBGDuntvrfdE ii jl.JbffiAifif»orioiiiBtiii«<4. 
tmOmllmifermili,  doH ally If DM imlnd  ibrc iwlR)' of tbe Ent. 
A rt~T4nciaa of oBB wiD da lor both, A. la^bSa bdne  little the 
erof Ibetwo. Both haw fleihy apt, nUlUi, molftand 



duiair to the touch : iuccad of  ptcajuit odour, they luv« a dii' 
uneibk one: the nema ice liailcw or Bariy loi uid the illli, 
Miidi m Dftlufa-day'bniwii, dlKUKtiy touch aad grow on to the 
■olid or pnhy Rem. Thcee two fungi uimlly irow In wood*, but 
tvoetdaiee in hedge* ODd Id ihidy pluce In meadom- or rrtTL, n^ Vai 
beea uid, aa iavadcnoo nuahrooid'bedi. The pale rlv h- i-^"-ed 




but when tlw cunctH 



'IHiuoiHHB Uiuhnom (.Ifanfu/aifiMIu). 

u probably a poitonijut pUnt bdoitiingi ai 







71 

a aiiiEk proprwtor will Knd 10 tba 
f iTiuahrootniHr day. The paiaa^ 
milt*, the bcdi foinetimea occupying 
tny proprietort of cclUn, the produce 
not only ii Parii EuUy aupplied, but 
' laree townatri Eumpe; 



iS-^" 



c hole left in ihc D 






tneae cellar* «nd tbdr ImJora from diaughc ia one caue of ibeir 
(TTU iuccbh: 10 thit imiit be added the oatDial virgin tnvn, 
tor by oonlinually uvng nawn taken from riuihnxHn'producing 
tieda the potency lor reprodiiction ia weakened- The bedj produce 
miuhiDoau in about ail weeki alter thii ipawiuiig. 

The commou muthroom lAtttiaa umpcibu) li propagated by 
qmea, the fioe bhick dun aeen to be ihiown ofl when a maiuie ipen- 
men b laid on while paper di a white diih; theae give riK to what 
ia known ai the " qiawn " or nycelium, which couiiu of whitish 
thieada permeating drinl dung or Bmilar aubaunRi. and which, 
when planted la a proper niedium, luna through the man. and even- 
tually developa tH mictificatioD knownai the nuahnxmi- Thia 



nuneiymen II .-, ,. -,-^— 

uid technically known aa tnuihroDm 
I, it may be hidefinltely prfenri. 
It Quinllliea -• •■   



charted with th« nyoriiun 

apawn. When on obtai , „ -._, , , 

It may be produced by placing quiilillea of hone-dunl atumlnl . 
with the unnfl of hotvn, eapeclaily of Mud honea, with ahemate 



f dn^pirRI o[ atali-fe 
^ foDd. ahould be mad 



ram and 

n prepared bedi either iex^t or ll^ng from a back wall in iheda or 

illan, may generally be adopted with Hicma. The beda cire formed 

[ hotaB-dntppingft which have been tlighily ferrrrenied and frequenlly 

I. and may be made » or 3 ft. broad and of any length. A layer 



^ibr'al 



depth of 3 in,; and two limilar layen with 
UT added, the whole beii» rnade panower aa it 

..__,..t. When the bed ii GnuRed, it ii covered with 

tniw ID prqtect it from nin, and alw from parching influencea. 

eady for yawping, which conilHi of inieciing imall [4ece* of (pawn 
irickB into the looping lidea of the bed, about 6 in. atunder. A layer 
if fine earth ia then plated over the whole, and well beaten down, 
indlbe aurfaeeia covered with a thick coat of n raw. When the 



Theae ordinary lidge bedi fumiih a good upply mwirdi the end 

ever, at all tcannh the uae of a muihnxHn.houie will be Icnink very 
ccMivcnient. The oialerial employed in all casea ia the droppinga of 
bonea, which should be oollected Trech. and apread out in thin byen 
b a d^ place, a portion of the ahon litter being mained well mois- 
tened by horae-utine. it ahould then be thrown together in Tidgea 
and fiequently tumedp » at to be kept in an indigent alatc of ^ 
mentation, a little diyiih friable bam being mixtiTwiih it to main 
the ammonia given olf by the dung. With thii or a mbnuie of 
horaMhing, loam, old muAroorri -bed dung, and half -decayed leaves, 

layer being beaten firm, uolU the W « "or 10 in. th'icJc." If'lhi W 
™«d. So', holes should be mode to moderate the fermentation. 

is then 'i^rcd »Sh''a iprinkling of wameTiMm. which" >fl^ 

The beija made panly of old mushioom-bcd dung often contairi 

cake spawn, but it it adviuUe to spawn them in the regular a-ay. 
The spawn should be introduced an inch or two below the surface 
whemhe heal has declined to about 7S°, indeed the bed ought never 
to exceed So*. The surface la to be aiierwardi coveted with hay or 
litter. The atmoephetic lerapetalure should range from 6o* to 6j* 
till the mushrooms appear, when it may drop a lew degrees, but rvot 
lower than JJ', If tlie bedi require watering, water of about So* 
should be usol, and it ii preferable to moiaten the covering of iltirr 
rather than the surface of the beds themseU-es. Il is also beneficial, 
'ally in the case of partially exhausted beds, to water with a 
solution of nlln:. For a winter supply the beds should be 
towards the end ol Augurt, and the end ol October. Slugs 



re univenoUy used in Fraooe and 

although it is well known and rrequently u> 
a dry state in England. [I iitolaUy difTcrcc 



n Englan. 



Jy ft paiibiLity ol mali 
t taia^iScBiei. .It 

« leiHth of tbc Kuon in wU^ Fl'miv be ptlinfil, tlw 

IK* Ol varicul fomu, iu tdipOliUity for bcinf dried lad 

vd foe ytu*. and Ui pemnnit dclidou tute. Il  bv axay 

Bd w the be« of ill the odibU fiu^ found in Giot Jkitun. 




genently, ud even luding utd writing iraDli] ill fill tuder 
^uwoui^, beiidfs the tinging and idling ol lyric poetiy. On 
the educitionil value of muuc in the fonnition of diincler 
tlie philoiophen laid chief atRM, and thii biued their acithetic 
aoilyiii. 'iffurta (humony), or ifi/ianxi (ic nxrti), niher 
than iia/mMi, mi the lume ^ven by the Gneki to the art of 
anaogbii loundi for (be piupoae of crating a definite aeitbetic 
imprcuien, with which thii article deali. 
I. — Geheeal SlETcn 
1. ItUrodiulim.—Ai a nature and indepeadenl art nuiic 
il unknovn except in the modem forau realiied by Woten 



Fio. J,— TTie Fairy -ring CJiamiMgnoii 

it abcwt onc'half ibc Hie of a muhnani, 

pan. Ihc gilli alwayt RiaininE thli coli — 

HlnM-colound, hnnn of bbck. The uen i> »lld and c«ky. 
Duch nore lolid lliaa the Snh of the eip, and pnfeetlyimaDlh. 
nner bdng tunuriwd with the lUchteu liace of a ring. The bulT' 
gilli are far apait (v), and in thia l^ neatly differ f rom the iome. 
whal crDwdeiQilb ti the nKiihraoin: die luonion of Ihe gilli with 
the nem («) alto dillcn in diaraeter iron the liinibr junclion in Ihe 



The Diughipc. 

] a leathery lubuance 



lablequalitioforllu 
c tu November, and 



rssii^ 



1 decay, whi^ the chani^gnoh driea 
I the Hill, but ipeedlly nvivei and lakei 
he firii ihomr. To thii chaiacler Ihe 

le, for examplei may be gatheced fnnn 

f rvFd miihsut deterioration tor levrral 
ouerl that Ihc rich llavovr of rhne 



dryiiMiJM 



K> deep, tbcy Mon became brownish, the « 
i> acnd. An ^Mrioii named A. ifryoj 

gathered in mistake for the chi 

•ibere the champunon never gi 

Hem, gilU crowded together ~. — -> — . — .- — --■, 

tender and brlllle Imlrad of loiigh. A imall "<ulenl ally of Ihe 

in Crcfll Prilaln: Ihii n largely cwuumcd on the Coniinent, where 
il il eHeemed for i(» powerful flavour of garlic. In England, where 
garlic li not uied lo a large encnl. Ibii fungui ii not uuehl lor. 
Anmher mull and common ipKiH, U. Mmu. Ii perviidnt w.lh a 

Briic Ibvour to an equal enlenl with rbe last. A third swiei. 
. aflra«iri. is also itrongly impregnaled wiih Ihe scenl and taile 
of onioni or gailK. Two nxcin. V. impaduui and M Miduz. 
arc in all irace* of growth highly fcciid- The curious lillle edible 
Att'l"' aaSnilmi. allhough placed under Ihe lub-Eenui CWIyMn. 

rommon in upland ponurn and fir pbntalioni early in Ihe leavin. 
Alihsueh nm calhcnd lor (he table in England, it u greatly priieil 
in some piru ^ ibe Continent. 
MnSIC—Tlc Greek lumnxt (tc. rtxn). from which thil 

ans over which 'the Nine HuKt (MoSoai) were held lo ptnlde. 
Conliaited with yiiiaamdi (gymBaade) it included those 

mind as oppoied to the body. Thuiiuch widely dlfferenl aril 
and acieficts a* malbemaiici, utionomy, poetry and lileiature 



ig (with 



wholly cr 



: of the 



ininicUi^ble to a liitener 
, and though the luxener 



id of prejudices and 
)1e by iu own lelf- 
thui finally depend* 



modern arl 
organiied ai 

may help himse 
acleriitici and n 
uadentand it b; 

conaiilency. Tl 



Beyond certain elementary facta ol 

pendcntly of arti indeed, it ii already 

aelcction of tbeie elementary acouitic 

art determines the lelection of thcoe fi 

cogniiuice of optica.' In muiic, howi 

principles arc incomparably fewer and 

piinciples of palming, and thdi artiit 

Ihem into lomelhing no leu remot 

eiperimenti of acoustic science thai 

sounds of nalure. The result is that 

artistic eipericnces of light afford so much ma 

ait ihat the vulgar conception of good painti _ 

deceptively like nature, Ihe ordinary non-artistic expcrioicc 

realism is. with raic thou^ popular eiceptions. generally 
regarded as an eccentricity. 

Thii contrast between music and plastic art may be partly 
Giptained by the mental work undergone, during the nriieat 

sensations of space. When a baby leans the shape of objects 
by taking them in bis hands, and gradually advances to the 
discovery that bii toes belong to him, he goes through nn 
amount of work that is quite forgotten by the adult, and its 
complexity and difficulty has perhaps only been fully realized 
through the experience of persons who have been bom blind 
but have acquired sight at a mature age by an operation. Stich 

prind|>le that makes them admirable raw material for >rt. 
The power of distinguishing sensations of sound is associated 
with no such mental skill, and is no more complei than Ibc 
power of diitinguisbing colours. On the otbci band, aound 
is the principal medium by which moil of the higher sojinals 
both eiprcsi and excite emotion; and hence, though until 



s, just as in painting 



from the unorganized 
while the ordinary non- 
erial lor plastic 



'Thus Chineae and Japann 



an optical and ^ysiological t 
mills justify their mclhodi by 



les. though 



Sri 






GENERAL SKETCH] 



MUSIC 



73 



codified into human speech it does not give Any nw material 
lor art, yet so powerful are its primitive effects that music 
(in the bird-song sense of sound indulged in for its own attractive* 
oess) is as long prior to language as the brUUant colours of 
animala and flowers are prior to painting (see SoNo). Again, 
sound as a warning or a menace is eminently important in the 
history of the instinct of self-preservation; and, above all, its 
production is instantaneous and instinctive. 

All these facts, while they tend to make musical expression 
an eariy phenomenon in the history of life, are extremely 
unfavourable to the early (tevelopment of musical art. They 
invested the first musical attempts with a mysterious power 
over listener and musician, by re-awakening instincts more 
powcxful, because more ancient and necessary, than any that 
could ever have been appealed to by so deliberate a process 
as that of drawing on a flat surface a series of lines calculated 
to remind the eye of the appearance of solid objects in space. 
It b hardly surprising that music long remained as imperfect 
as its legendary powers were portentous, even in the hands of 
so supzcmely artistic a race as that of classical Greece; and what- 
ever wonder this backwardness might still arouse in us vanishes 
when we realize the extreme difficulty of the process by which 
the principles of the modem- art were established. 

3. Nim-Jtarmonic and Greek Music, — Archaic music is of 
two kinds — ^the unwritten, or spontaneous, and the recorded, 
or scientific The earliest musical art-problems were far too 
difficult for conscious analysis, but by no means always beyond 
the reach of a lucky hit from an inspired singer; and thus folk- 
miok often shows real beauty where the more systematic music 
of the time is merely arbitrary. Moreover, folk-music and the 
present^ music of barbarous and civilised non-European races 
fumish'the study of musical origins with material analogous to 
that given by the present manners and customs of different races 
in the study of social evolution and ancient history. We may 
mentsoQ as examples the accurate comparison of the musical 
scales of non-European races undertaken by A. J. ElUs (On 
Ike Musical Scales of Various Nations, 1885); the parallel 
nesearches and acute and cautious reasoning of Ms friend and 
drflaborator, A. J. Hipkins {Dorian and Phrygian reconsidered 
from a Non^karmonic Point of View, 1902); and, pvhaps most 
<rf an, the study of Japanese music, with its remarkable if 
uncertain sig;ns of the beginning of a harmonic tendency, its 
k^cal coherence, and its affinity to Western scales, points 
ia which it seems to show a great advance upon the Chinese 
muse from which most of it is derived (Music and Musical 
Instruments of Japan, by J. F. Piggott, 1893). The reader will 
iuKl detailed accounts of ancient Greek music in the article 
on that subject in Grove's Dictionary of Music and Musicians 
(new ed., iL 223) and in Monro's Modes of Ancient Greek Music 
(Garendoa Press, 1894), while both the Greek music itself, 
and tbe steps by which it passed through Graeco-Roman and 
early Christian phases to become the foundation of the modem 
art, are traced as dearly as is consbtent with accuracy in 
The Oxford History of Music, vol. i., by Professor Wooldridge. 
Sir Hubert Parry's Evolution of the Art of Music (" International 
Sdcotific Series," originally published under the title of Tke 
Art of Music) presents the main lines of the evolution o( modem 
musical ideas in the clearest and.^ost readable form yet 
attained. 

Sir Hubert Parry illustrates in this work the artificiality of 
our modem musical conceptions by the word " cadence," 
which to a modem musician belies its etymology, since it 
notmaUy means for him no " falling " close but a pair of final 
diocds rising from dominant to tonic. Moreover, in consequence 
^ car harmonic notions we think of scales as constmcted from 
the bottom upwards; and even in the above-mentioned article 
in Grove's Dktionary all the Greek scales are, from sheer force 
c£ habit, written upwards. But the ancient and, almost 
QonretsaHy, the primitive idea of music is like that of speech, 
m which most inflections are in fact cadences, while rising 
inflexions express less usual sentiments, such as surprise or 
interrogaticn. Again, our modem musical idea of " high 



it 



and " low " is probably derived from a sense of greater and less 
vocal effort; and it has been much stimulated by our harmonic 
sensej which has necessitated a range of sounds incomparably 
greater than those employed in any non-harmonic system. 
The Greeks derived their use of the terms from the position 
of notes on their instruments; and the Greek kypaU was what 
we should call the lowest note of the mode, while nett was the 
highest. Sir George Macfarren has pointed out (Ency. Brit., 
9th ed., art. " Music ") that Boethius (c, aj>. soo) already fell 
into the trap and tumed the Greek modes upside down. * 

Another radical though less grotesque misconception was 
also already well exploded by Macfarren; but it still frequently 
survives at the present day, since the study of non-harmonic 
scales is, with the best of intentions, apt rather to encourage 
than to dispel it. The more we realize the importance of 
differences in position of intervals of various sizes, as producing 
differences of character in scales, the more irresistible is the 
temptation to regard the ancient Greek modes as differing from 
each other in this way. And the temptation becomes greater 
instead of less when we have succeeded in thinking away our 
modem harmonic notions. Modem harmonization enormously 
increases the differences of expression between modes of which 
the melodic intervals are different, but it does this in a fashion 
that draws the attention almost entirely away from these 
differences of interval; and without harmony we find it extremely 
difficult to distinguish one mode from another, unless it be 
by this different arrangement of intervals. Nevertheless, all 
the evidence irresistibly tends to the conclusion that while the 
three Greek genera — diatonic, chromatic, and enharmonic — 
were scales differing in intervals, the Greek modes were a series 
of scales identical in arrangement of interval, and differing, 
like our modem keys, only in pitch. The three genera were 
applied to all these modes or. keys, and we have no difficulty 
in understanding their modifying effects. But the only clue 
we have to the mental process by which in a preharmonic age 
different characteristics can be ascribed to scales identical in 
all but pitch, is to be found in the limited compass of Greek 
musical sounds, corresponding as it does to the evident sensitive- 
ness of the Greek ear to differences in vocal effort. We have 
only to observe the compass of the Greek scale to see that in 
the most esteemed modes it is much more the compass of speaking 
than o( singing voices. Modem singing is normally at a much 
higher pitch than that of the speaking voice, but there is no 
natural reason, outside the peculiar nature of modem music, 
why this should be so. It is highly probable that aU modern 
singing wotild strike a classical Greek ear as an outcry; and 
in any case such variations of pitch as are inconsiderable in 
modem singing are extremely emphatic in the speaking voice, 
so that they might well make all the difference to an ear un- 
accustomed to organized sound beyond the speaking compass. 
Again, much that Aristoxenus and other ancient authorities 
say of the character of the modes (or keys) tends to confirm 
the view that that character depends upon the position of the 
mese or keynote within the general compass. Thus Aristotle 
(Politics, v. (viii.) 7, 1342 b. 20) states thai certain low-pitched 
modes suit the voices of old men, and thus we may conjecture 
that even the position of tones and semitones might in the 
Dorian and Phrygian modes bring the bolder portion of the 
scale in all three genera into the best regions of the average 
young voice, while the Ionian and Lydian might lead the voice 
to dwell more upon semitones and enharmonic intervals, and 
so account for the heroic character of the former and the sensual 
character of the latter (Plato, Republic, 398 to 400). 

Of the Greek genera, the chromatic and enharmonic (especially 

^ It b worth adding that in the i6th century the great contrapun- 
tal compoter Costanzo Porta had been led by doubu on the subject 
to the wonderful conclusion that ancient Greek music was poly- 
phonic, and oo constructed as to be invertible ; in illustration of which 
theory he andA^ncentino composed four-part motets in each of the 
Greek genera (diatonic, chromatic and enharmonic), Porta'* being 
constructed like the 12th and 13th fugues in Bach's Kunsl der Fugc 
so as to be equally euphonious when sung upside downl (See 
Hawkins's History of Music, i. 1 12.) 



J 



7+ 



MUSIC 



(GENERAL SKETCH 



the latter) show very clearly the origin of so many primitive 
scales in the interval of the downward fourth. That interval 
{e.g. from C to G) is believed to be the earliest melodic relation- 
ship which the ear learnt to fix; and most of the primitive scales 
were formed by the accretion of auxiliary notes at the bottom 
of this intervid, and the addition of a similar interval, with 
similar accretions, below the former. In this way a pentatonic 
scale, like that of so many Scotch melodies, can easily be formed 
(thus, C, A, G; F, D, C) ; and though some primitive scales seem 
to have been on the nucleus of the rising fifth,'while the Siamese 
now use two scales of which not a single note within the octave 
can be accounted for by any known principle, still we may 
•consider that for general historic purposes the above example 
is typical. The Greeks divided their downward fourth into 
four notes, called a tetrackord; and by an elaborate system of 
linking tetrachords together they gave their scale a compass 
of two octaves. The enharmonic tetrachord, being the most 
ancient, gathered the lower three notes very closely to the 
bottom, leaving the second note no less than a major third 
irom the top, thus— C,Ab, G', G; (where G' stands for a note 
2)etween Ab and G). The chromatic tetrachord was C, Bbb, 
Ab, G; and the diatonic tetrachord was C, Bb, Ab, G. It is this 
last that has become the foundation of modem music, and the 
Greeks themselves soon preferred it to the other genera and 
found a scientific basis for it. In the first place they noticed 
that its notes (and, less easily, the notes of the chromatic scale) 
could be connected by a series of those intervals which they 
recognized as concordant. These were, the fourth; its converse, 
or inversion, the fifth; and the octave. The notes of the enhar- 
monic tetrachord could not be connected by any such series. 
In the articles on Harmony and Sound account is given of 
the historic and scientific foundations of the modem conception 
of concord; and although this harmonic conception applies 
to simultaneous notes, while the Greeks concemed themselves 
only with successive notes, it is nevertheless permissible to 
regard the Greek sense of concord in successive notes as con- 
taining the germ of our harmonic sense. The stability of the 
diatonic scale was assured as early as the 6th century B.q. when 
Pythagoras discovered (if he did not leam from Egypt or India) 
the extremely simple mathematical proportions of its intervals. 
And tips discovery was of unique importance, as fixing the 
intervals by a criterion that could never be obscured by the 
changes of taste and custom otherwise inevitable in music that 
has no conscious harmonic principles to guide it. At the same 
time, the foundation of a music as yet immature and ancillary 
to drama, on an acoustic science ancillary to a priori mathe- 
matics, was not without disadvantage to the art; and it is 
arguable that the great difficiilty with which during the 
medieval beginnings of modem harmony the concords of the 
third and sixth were rationalized may have been increased by 
the fact that, the Pythagorean system left these intervals con- 
siderably out of tune. In preharmonic times mathematics 
could not direct even the most obsetvant ear to the study of 
those phenomena of upper partials of which Helmholtz, in 
1863, was the first to explain the significance; and thus though 
the Greeks knew the difference between a major and minor 
lone, on which half the question depended, they could not 
possibly arrive at the modem reasons for adding both kinds 
of tone in order to make the major third. (See Soxtnd.) 

Here we must digress in order to illustrate what is implied 
by our modem harmonic sense; for the difference that this 
makes to our whole musical consciousness is by no means uni- 
versaUy realized. Music, as we now understand it, expresses 
itself ia the interaction of three elements— rhythm, melody and 
barmony. The first two are obviously as ancient as human 
consciousness itself. Without the third a musical art of per- 
manent value and intelligibility has not been known to attain 
independent existence. With harmony music assumes the 
existence of a kind of space in three dimensions, none of which 
can subsist without at least implying the others. When we 
bear an unaccompanied melody we cannot help interpreting 
it in the light of its most probable harmonies. Hence, when 



it does not imply consistebt harmonies it seems to us quaint 
or strange; because, unleu it is very remote from our harmonic 
conceptions, it at least implies at any given moment some 
simple harmony which in the next moment it contradicts. 
Thus our inferences as to the expression intended by music 
that has not come under European influence are tmsafe, and 
the pleasure we take in such music is capricious. The effort of 
thinking away our harmonic preconceptions is probably the 
most violent piece of mental gymnastics in all artistic exi>erience, 
and furnishes much excuse for a sceptical attitude as to the 
artistic value of preharmonic music, which has at all events 
never become even partially independent of poetry and dance. 
Thus the rhythm of classical Greek music seems to have been 
entirely identical with that of verse, and its beauty and ex- 
predion appreciated in virtue of that identity. From the modem 
musical point of view the rhythm of words is limited to a merely 
monotonous uniformity of flow, with minute undulations which 
are musically chaotic (see Rhytioi). The example of Greek 
tragedy, with the reports of its all-pervading music (in many 
cases, as in that of Aeschylus, composed by the dramatist 
himself) could not fail to fire the imaginations of modem pioneers 
and reformers of opera; and Monteverde, Gluck and Wagner 
convinced themselves and their contemporaries that their work 
was, amongst other things, a revival of Greek tragedy. But all 
that is known of Greek music shows that it represents no such 
modem ideas, as far as their really musical aspect is concerned. 
It represents, rather, an organization of the rise and fall of the 
voice, no doubt as elaborate and artistic as the organization 
of verse, no doubt powerful in heightening the emotional and 
dramatic effect of words and action, but in no way essential 
to the understanding or the organization of the works which it 
adorned. The classical Greek preference for the diatonic scale 
indicfl^tes a latent harmonic sense and also that temperance 
which is at the foundation of the general Greek sense of beauty; 
but, beyond this and similar generalities, all the research in the 
world will not enable us to understand the Greek musician's 
mind. Non-harmonic music is a world of two dimensions, and 
we must now inquire how men came to rise from this " flatland "- 
to the solid world of sound in which Palestrina, Bach, Beethoven 
and Wagner live. 

3. Harmonic Origins, — Although the simultaneoos blending 
of different sounds was never seriously contemplated by the 
Greeks, yet in classical times they were fond of singing with 
high and low voices in octaves. This was called magadiang, 
from the name of an instrument on which playing in octaves 
was rendered easy by means of a bridge that divided the strings 
at two-thirds of their length. While the practice was esteemed 
for the beauty of the blending of different voices, it was tolerated 
only because of the peculiar effect of identity furnished by 
the different notes of the octave, and no other interval was so 
used by the Greeks. In the article on Harmony the degrees of 
identity-in-diff^rence which characterize the simpler harmonic 
intervals are analysed, and the main steps are indicated by which 
the more complicated medieval magadizing uses of the fourth 
and fifth (the sympkonia, diaphonia or organum of Hucbald) 
gave way (partly by their own interchange and partly through 
experiments in the introduction of ornaments and variety) 
to the modem conception of harmony as consisting of voices 
or parts that move independently to the exclusion of such parallel 
motion. In The Oxford History of Music, vols. L and ii., will 
be found abundant examples of every stage of the process, 
which begins with the organum or diaphony that prevailed 
until the death of Guido of Arezzo (about Z050) and passes 
through the discarU, or measured music, of the Z3th century, 
in which rhythm is first organized on a sufficiently firm basis to 
enable voices to sing contrasted rhythms simultaneously, 
while the new harmonic criterion of the independence of parts 
more and more displaces and shows its opposition to the old 
criterion of parallelism. 

The most extraordinary example of these conflicting principles 
is the famous rota " Sumer is icumen in," a Z3th-century round 
in four parts on a canonic ground-bass in two. Recent researches 



CEMESAL SKETCH] 



MUSIC 



75 



bave brou^t to Eg^t a number of norics la tBe tcnoM o? mdet, 
cvKdmdus, rondd (neither the later rondo nor the round, but a 
kind o£ tdple connteipomt), which show that " Sumer is icumen 
in " cwitaim no unique technical feature; but no work within 
two centniks of its date attains a style so nearly intelUgible 
to modem eaxs. Its richness and firmness of harmony are 
soch that the frequent use of consecutive fifths and octaves, 
in strict accordance with X3th-century principles, has to our 
cars an the effect of a series of grammatiol blunders, so sharply 
does it Gontrsst with the smooth counterpoint of the rest. In 
what light this smooth countezpoint struck contemporaries, 
or how its author (who may or may not be the writer of the 
Reading MS., John of Fomsete) arrived at it, is not dear, 
thou^ W. S. Rockstro's amTisIng article, *' Sumer is iciuicn 
In," in Grove's DicHonary, is very plausible. All that we know is 
that mnsic in &)^and in the 13th century must have been at 
a comparatively high state of development; and we may also 
conjecture that the tuneful character of this wonderful rota 
has som^hing in common with the unwritten but famous 
soQS^ (rf the aristocratic troubadours, or tromtrtSt of the X2th 
and xjth centoxies, who, while disdaining to practise the art of 
accompaniment or the art of scientific and written music, 
andoabtedly set the fashion in melody, and, being themselves 
poets as wdl as singers, formed the current notions as to the 
rdatkms between musical and poetic rhythm. The music 
of Adam de la Bale, sumamed Le Bossu d' Arras (c xajo-iaSS), 
shows the transformation of the troubadour into the learned 
mosicxan; and, neariy a century later, the more ambitious 
efforts of a greater French poet (like his contemporary Petrarca, 
one of Chaucer's modeb in poetic technique), Guillaume dc 
Mafhault {fi. X350), mark a further technical advance, though they 
are not ^ipredabfy more intelligible to the modem ear. 

In the nett century we find an Englishman, John Dunstable, 
who had as early as X437 acquired a European reputation; 
while his works were so soon lost sight of that until recently 
he was almost a legendary character, sometimes revered as the 
** inventor " of omnterpoint, and once or twice even identified 
with St Dunstanl Recently a great deal of his work has come 
to Eg^ and it shows us (especially when taken in connexion 
with the fact that the early Netherlandish master, G. Dufay, 
did not die until X474, twenty-one years after Dunstable) that 
En^ish ootinterpoint was fully cabbie of showing the composers 
of the Netherlands the path by which they were to reach the 
azt <tf the " (jolden age." In such examples of Dunstable's work 
as that appended to the article "Dunstable" in Grove's 
Dkticnary (new ed., L 744) we see music spproaching a style 
more or les consistently intelligible to a modem ear; and in 
En^ish Carols of the jyth Century (1891) several two-part 
compositions of the period, in a style resembling Dunstable's, 
have been made accessible to' modem readers and filled out into 
foor-part music by the editor "in accordance with the rules 
of the time." And though it may be doubted whether Mr 
Eockstro's skill would not have been held in the xsth century to 
savour overmuch of the Black Art, still the success of his attempt 
shows that the musical conceptions he is dealing with are no 
locger radically different from those of our modem musical 



4. Tke CoUen Age.— The struggle towards the realization 
of mature musical art seems incredibly- slow when we do not 
realize its difficulty, and wonderfully rapid as soon as we attempt 
to ima^ne the effort of first forming those harmonic conceptions 
vhkh are second nature to us. Even at the time of Dunstable 
and Dufay the development of the contrapuntal idea of inde- 
peadence of parts had not yet so transformed the harmonic 
cerasdnianess that the ancient parallelisms or consecutive 
{mnhs and fifths that were the backbone of discant could 
be sea in their tme light as contradictory to the contrapuntal 
meihod. By the beginmng of the x6th century, however, the 
Uws d counterpoint were substantially fixed; practice was 
for a iriule imperfect, and aims still uncertain, but skill was 
isdtasing and soon became marvellous; and in i6th-cenlury 
Bnsk we leave the archaic world altogether. Henceforth music 



may show Virions phenomena of cnideness, decadence and 
transition, but its transition-periods will always derive light 
from the put, whatever the darkness of the future. 

In the best music of the i6th century we have no need of 
research or uKUtal gymnastics, beyond what is necessary in 
all art to secure intelligent presentation and attentioo. Its 
materials show us the " three dimensions " of music in their 
simplest state of perfect balance. Rhythm, emancipated from 
the tyranny of verse, is free to coK>rdinate and contrast a multi- 
tude of mdodies which by the very independence of their flow 
produce a mass of harmony that passes from concord to concord 
through ordered varieties of transitional discord. The criterion 
of discord is no longer that of mere harshness, but is modified 
by the conception ^ the simplicity or remoteness of the steps 
by which the flux of independent simultaneous melodies passes 
from one concord, or point of repose, to another. When the 
music reaches a climax, or its fboal conclusion, the point of 
repose is, of course, greatly emphasized. It is accordingly the 
" cadences " or full closes of x6th-century music that show 
the greatest resemblance to the harmonic ideas of the present 
day; and it is also at these points that certain notes were most 
frequently raised so as to modify the ecclesiastical modes which 
are derived more or less directly from the melodic diatonic 
scale of the Greeks, and misnamed, according to inevitable 
medieval misconceptions, after the Greek modes.* 

In other passages our modem ears, when unaccustomed to 
the style, feel that the harmony is strange and lacking in definite 
direction; and we are apt to form the hasty conclusion that the 
mode is an archaic survivaL A more familiar acquaintance 
with the art soon shows that its shifting and vague modulations 
are no mere survival of a scale inadequate for any but melodic 
purposes, but the natural result of a state of things in which only 
two species of chord aro available as points of repose at all. If 
no successions (^ such chords wero given prominence, except those 
that define key according to modem notions based upon a much 
greater variety of harmony, the resulting monotony and triviality 
would be intolerable. Moreover, there is in this music just 
as much and no more of formal antithesis and sequence as its 
harpnony will suffice to hold together. Lastly, we shall find, 
on comparing the masterpieces of the period with works of 
inferior rank, that in the masterpieces the most archaic modal 
features are expressive, varied and beautiftil; while in the inferior 
works they are often avoided in favour of ordinary modem 
ideas, and, when they occur, are always accidental and monoto- 
nous, although in strict cooiormity with the rules of the time. 
The consistent limitations of harmony, form and rhythm have 
the further consequence that the only artistic music possible 
within them is purely vocaL The use of instmments is little 
more than a necessary evil for the support of voices in case of 
insufficient opportunity for practice; and although the origins 
of instrumental music are already of some artistic interest in 
the x6th century, we must leave them out of our account if our 
object is to present mature artistic ideas in proper proportions. 

The principles of x6th-century art^orms are diKussed in 
more detail in the article on Contsapuntal Forms. Here we 
will treat the formal criteria on a general basis; especially as 
with art on such simple principles the distinction between one 
art-form and another is apt to be either too external or too 
subtle for stability. With music there is a stronger probability 
than in any other art that merely mechanical devices will be 
self-evident, and thus they may become either dangerous or 
effective. With the masters of the Netherlands they speedily 
became both. Two adjacent groups of illustrations in Burney's 

*The technical nature of the subject forbids us to discuss the 
origin and characteristics of the preat Ambrosian and Gregorian 
collections of mdodic church music on which nearly all mraieval 
and 16th-century polyphony was based, and from which the ecclesi- 
astical modes were derived. Professor Wooldridge in The Oxford 
History of MunCt i. 20-44, has shown the continuity of this early 
Christian music with the Graeco- Roman music, and the origin of its 
modes in the Ptolemaic modification (c. a.d. 150) of the Greek 
diatonic scale; while a recent defence of the ecclesiastical tradi- 
tion of a revision by St Gregory will be found in the article on 
" Gregorian music " in Grove s Dictionary (new cd.)» ii. 335. 



76 



MUSIC 



(GENERAL S KE TC H 



Hist&ry of Music will show on the one hand the astonishing 
way in which early polyphonic composers learnt to " dance 
in fetters," and, on the other hand, the expressive power that 
they attained by that discipline. Bumey quotes from the 
venerable X5th<century master Okeghem, or Okenheim, some 
canons so designed as to be singable in all modes. They are 
by no means extreme cases of the ingenuity which Okenheim 
and his pupils often employed; but though they are not very 
valuable artistically (and are not even correctly deciphered 
by Bumey)* they prove that mechanical principles may be a 
help rather tlum a hindrance to' the attainment of a smooth 
and plastic style. Bumey most appropriately follows them 
with Josquin Des Prds's wonderful Deploration de Jekan Okenheim, 
in wUch the tenor sings the plain chant of the Requiem a degree 
below its proper pitch, while the other voices sing a pastoral 
dirge in French. Hie device of transposing the plain chant a 
note bwer, and making the tenor sing it in that position through- 
out the whole piece, is obviously as mechanical as any form of 
acrostic: but it is happily calculated to impress our ears, even 
though, unlike Josquin's contemporaries, most of us are not 
famiUar with- the fAun chant in its normal position; because 
it alters the position of all the semitones and gives the chant 
a plaintive minor character which is no less impressive in itself 
than as a contrast to the orthodox form. And the harmonic 
superstructure is as fine an instance of the expressive possibilities 
of the church modes at their apogee from modem tonality as 
could be found anywhere. A stiU nobler example, which we 
may perhaps acclaim as the earliest really sublime masterpiece 
in music, is Josquin's Miserere, which is accessible in a modem 
edition. In this monumental work one of the tenor parts is 
called Vagans, because it sings the burden Miserere mei Deus 
at regular intervals, in an almost monotonous wailing figure, 
wandering through each successive degree of the scale throughout 
the composition. The effect, aided as it is by consummate 
rhetorical power in every detail of the surrounding mass of 
harmony and counterpoint, is extremely expressive; and the 
device lends itself to every shade of feeling in the works of the 
greatest of all Netherland masters, Orlando di Lasso. Palestrina 
is less fond of it. Like all more obvious formal devices it is 
crowded out of his Roman art by the exquisite subtlety of his 
sense of proportion, and the exalted spirituality of his style 
which, while it allows him to set the letters of the Hebrew alphabet 
in the Lamentations of Jeremiah in much the same spirit as 
that in which they would be treated in an illuminated Bible, 
forbids him to stimulate a sense of form that might distract 
the mind from the sense of mystery and awe proper to objects 
of devout contemplation. Yet in one of his greatest motets, 
Tribularer si nescirem, the burden of Josquin*s Miserere appears 
with the same treatment and purpose as in its prototype. 

But with the lesser Flemish masters, and sometimes with 
the greatest, such mechanical principles often became not only 
inexpressive but absolutely destmctive to musical effect. The 
ingenuity necessary to make the stubbom material of music 
plastic was not so easily attainable as the ingenuity necessary 
to tum music into a mathematical game; and when Palestrina was 
in his prime the inferior composers so outnumbered the masters 
to whom music was a devout language, and so degraded the 
art, not only by ousting genuine musical expression but by 
foisting secular tunes and words into the church services, that 
one of the minor questions with which the Council of Trent 
was concerned was whether polyphonic church music should be 
totally abolished with other abuses, or whether it was capable 
of reform. Legendary history relates that Palestrina submitted 
for judgment three masses of which the Missa papae Marcelli 
proved to be so sublime that it waS henceforth accepted as the 
ideal church music (see Palestsina). This tale is difficult to 
reconcile with the chronology of Palestrina's works, but there is 
no doubt that Palestrina was officially recognized by the Church 
as a bulwark against bad taste. But we must not allow 
this to mislead us as to the value of church music before 

* The correct version will be found in The Oxford History of Music, 
H. 215. 



Palestrina. Nor most we follow the example of Baini, who, 
in his detestation of what he is {leased to call fiammiiigo fqualcre, 
views with uncritical suspicion any work in which Palestrina 
does not confine himself to strictly Italian methods of eipression. 
A notion still prevails tliat Josquin represents counterpoint in 
an anatomical perfection into which Palestrina was the first 
to breathe life and soul. This^ves an altogether inadequate 
idea of z6th-century music. Palestrina brought the century to a 
glorious close and is undoubtedly its greatest master, but he 
is primus inter pares; and in every part of Europe music was 
represented, even before the middle of the century, by masters 
who have every claim to immortality that sincerity of aim, 
completeness of range^ and depth and perfection of style can 
give. It has been rightly called the golden age of music, and 
our chronological table at the end Jot this article gives but an 
inadequate idea of the mmiber of its fnasters whom no lover 
of music ought to neglect. It is not exclusivdy aa age of church 
music. It is also the age of madrigals, both secular and spiritual ; 
and, small as was its range of expression, there has been no 
period in musical art when the distinctions between secular and 
ecclesiastical style were more accurately maintained by the great 
masters, as ^ abundantly shown by the test cases in which 
masses of the best period have been based on secular themes. 
(See Madugal.) 

5. The Monadic Revoluiion and its ResuUs.—Ukt all golden 
ages, that of music vanished at the first appearance of a knowledge 
beyond its limitations. The first and simplest realisation of 
mature art is widespread and nourishes a veritable army of great 
men; its masterpieces are innumerable, and its organization 
is so complete that no na r ro wn ess or specialization can be felt 
in the nature of its limitations. Yet these are exceedingly 
close, and the most modest attempt to widen them may have 
disastrous results. Many experiments were tried before Pales- 
trina's death and throughout the century, notably by the 
elder and younger Gabrieli. Perhaps Palestrina himsielf is 
the only great composer of the time who never violates the 
principles of his art. Orlando di Lasso, unlike Palestrina, 
wrote almost as much secular as sacred music, and in his youth 
indulged in many eccentricities in a chromatic style which he 
afterwards leamt to detest. But if experiments are to revolu- 
tionize art it is necessary that their novelty shall already embody 
some artistic principle of coherence. No such principle wiU 
avail to connect the Phrygian mode with a chord containing A#; 
and, however proud the youthful Orlando di Lasso may be at 
being the first to write A#, neither his early chromatic experiments 
nor those of Cipriano di Rore, which he admired so much, left 
a mark on musical history. They appealed to nothing deeper 
than a desire for sensational variety of harmony; and, while 
they carried the successions of chords far beyond the limits 
of the modes, they brought no new elements into the chords 
themselves. 

By the beginning of the 17th century the true revolutionary 
principles were vigorously at work, and the powerful genius 
of Monteverde speedily made it impossible for men of impres- 
sionable artistic temper to continue to work in the old 
style when such vast new regions of thought lay open to 
them. In the year of Palestrina's death, 1594, Monteverde pub- 
lished, in his third book of madrigals, works in which without 
going irrevocably beyond the letter of z6th-€entury law he showed 
far more zeal for emotional expression than sense of euphony. 
In 1599 he published madrigals in which 'his means of expression 
involve harmonic principles altogether incompatible with x6th- 
century ideas. But he soon ceased to place confidence in the 
madrigal as an adequate art-form for his new ideals of expression, 
and he found an unlimited field in musical drama. Dramatic 
music received its first stimulus from a group of Florentine 
dilettanti, who aspired amongst other things to revive the ideals of 
Greek tragedy. Under their auspices the first true opera 
ever performed in pubUc, Jacopo Peri's Euridice, appeared in 
x6oo. Monteverde found the conditions of dramatic music 
more favourable to his experiments than those of choral music, 
in which both voices and ears are at their highest sensibility 



GENERAL SKETCH] 



MUSIC 



77 



to disocwd. Instruments do not Ucnd like voices; and players, 
prododng their notes by more mechanical means, have not 
the siager's difficulty in making combinations which the ear 
does not readily understand. 

The one difficulty of the new art was fatal: there were no 
Kmftafioiw When Montevetde introduced his unprepared 
disonds, the effect upon musical style was like that of intro- 
ducing modem metaphors into classical Greek. There were 
no harmofiic principles to control the new material, except 
those which just sufiBced to hold together the pure z6th-century 
style; and that style depended on an exquisite continuity of 
flow which was incompatible with any rigidity either of har- 
mony or rhythm. Accordingly there were also no rhythmic 
prindf^es to hdd M<»teverde's work together, except such 
35 could be bonowed from types of secular and popular music 
that had hitherto been beneath serious attention. If the xyth 
cottaxy seems almost devoid of great musical names it is not 
for want of incessant musical activity. The task of organizing 
new leaumc c a into a consistent language was too gigantic to 
be armmpii^ed within three generations. Its fascinating 
dnunatic saggestiveness and inadculable range disguised for 
those who first undertook it the fact that the new art was as 
difficult and clementaxy in its beginnings as the very beginning 
d harmony itself in the 13th and 14th centuries. And the 
most beautiful compositions at the beginning of the 17th century 
are rather those which show the decadence of x6th-centttry art 
than those in which the new principles were most consistently 
adc^ted. Tlius the madrigals of Monteverde, though often 
dun and always rough* contain more music than his operas. 
On the other hand, almost until the middle of the zyth century 
great men were not wanting who still carried on the pure 
poiypbanic st]^. Their asceticism denotes a spirit less compre* 
hoM^ than that of the great artists for whom the golden age 
WIS a natural environment; but in parts of the world where the 
new mAMTM'P* did not yet prevail even this is not the case, 
and a composer like Oriando Gibbons, who died in 1625, is 
well worthy to be ranked with the great Italian and Flemish 
of the preceding century. 



But the main task of composers of the xTth century lay 

dse^diere; and if the result of their steady attention to it was 

tzrvial in comparison with the glories of the past, it at least 

led to the glories of the greater world organized by Bach and 

Handd. The eariy monodists, Monteverde and his fellows, 

doected attention to the right quarter in attempting to express 

eaotioii by means of single voices supported by instruments; 

hot the formless declamation of their dramatic writings soon 

pioved too^nonotonous for permanent interest, and such method 

as it showed became permanent only by being codified into 

the fsmaaHaA of . f eotelfw, which are, for the most part, very 

happy idealizatioas of speech^cadence, and which accordingly 

arnwe as draxiuitic elonents in music at the present day, 

though like an rhetorical figures, they have often lost meaning 

£nia careless use.^ It was all very weO to revolutionize current 

Goacefrtioas of harmony, so that chords were no longer considered, 

as in the days of pure polsrpbony, to be the result of so many 

iadepeadent melodies. But in art,, as elsewhere, new thought 

eventnaDy shows itself as an addition to, not a substitute for, 

the w fad o m of ages. Moreover, it is a mistake, though one 

f*idnfifd fay fai^ authorities, to suppose that the x6th-century 

co By obe i s did not appreciate the b«iuty of successions of chords 

2psrt from polyphonic design. On the contrary, Palestrina 

and Orlando di Luso themselves are the greatest masters the 

vorid has ever seen of a style which depends wholly 6n the 

beauty of masses of harxnony, entirely devoid of polsrphoiuc 

detail, and held together by a delicatdy balanced rhythm in 

symmetry is as Carefully avoided as it is in the 

of chords themsdves. Nevertheless, the monody 

of the XTth century is radically different in principle, not only 

becaose chords are used which were an outrage on x6th- 
* The " iaveotkm '* of recitative b frequently ascribed to this or 
tlot nooodist, with as little room for dispute as when we aacribe 
the icre n tSoa of clothes to Adam and Eve. All monody was recita- 
tive, if oc!y fitMB inability to organiae melodies. 



century ears, but because the fundamental Idea Is that of a 
sob voice declaiming phrases of paramount emotional interest,* 
and supported by instruments that play such chords as will 
heighten the poignancy of the voice. And the first advance 
made on this chaotic monody consisted, not in the reintroduction 
of vitality into the texture of the harmonies, but in giving formal 
S3rmmetry and balance to the vocal suriace. This involved the 
strengthening of the harmonic system, so that it could carry 
the new discords as parts of an intelligible scheme, and not 
merely as uncontrollable expressions of emotion. In other words, 
the chief energies of the successors of the monodists were devoted 
to the establishment of the modem key-system; a system in 
comparison with which the subtle variety ol modal concord 
sounded vague and ill-balanced, until the new key-system 
itself was so safely established that Bach and Beethoven could 
once more appreciate and use essentially modal successions of 
chords in their true meaning. 

The second advance of the monodic movonent was in the 
cultivation of the solo 'voice. This developed together with 
the cultivation of the violin, the most capable and eipressive 
of the instruments used to support it. Monteverde already 
knew how to make interesting experiments with violins, such 
as directing them to play ^tzcicato,and accompanying an excited 
description of a duel by rapidly repeated strokes on a major 
chord, followed by sustained dying harmonies in the minor. 
By the middle of the century violin music is fairly common, 
and the distinction between Sonata da tJtiesa and Sonata da 
camera app^rs (see Sonata). But the cultivation of instru- 
mental technique had also a great effect on that of the voice; 
and Italian vocal technique soon developed into a monstrosity 
that so corrupted musical taste as not oidy to blind the contem- 
poraries of Bach and Handel to the greatness of their choral 
art, but, in Handel's case, actually to swamp a great deal of 
his best work. The balance between a solo voice and a group 
of instruments was, however, successfully cultivated together 
with the modem key-system and melodic form; with the restilt 
that the classical <^iat a hi^y effective art-form, took shape. 
This, while it totally destroyed the dramatic character of opera 
for the next hundred years, yet did good service in furnishing 
a reasonably effective means of musical expression which could} 
encourage composers and listeners to continue cultivating the 
art until the day of small things was past. The operatic aria, 
as matured by Alessandro Scarlatti, is at its worst a fine oppor- 
tunity for a- gorgeously dressed singer to dis|^y feats of vocal 
gymnastics, either on a concert platform, or in scenery worthy 
of the Drury Lane pantomime. At its. best it is a beautifiU 
means of expression for the devout fervour of Bach and Handel. 
At all times it paralyses dramatic action, and no more iroiuc 
revenge has ever overtaken iconoclastic reformers than the 
historic development by which the purely dramatic declama- 
tion of the monodists settled down into a series of about thirty 
successive displays of vocalisation, designed on rigidly muslcid 
conventions, and produced tmder spectacular conditions by 
artificial sopranos as the highest ideal of music-drama. 

The principal new art-forms of the x7th century are then, 
firstly, the aria (not the opera, which was merely a spectacular 
condition under which people consented to listen to some thirty 
arias in succession); and, secondly, the polyphonic instrumental 
forms, of which those of the suite or sonata da camera were 
mainly derived from the necessity for ballet music in the opera 
(and hence greatly stimulated by the taste of the French court 
under Louis XIV.), while those of the sonaia da ckiesa were also 
inspired by a renaissance of Interest In polyphonic texture. 
The sonata da ckiesa soon settled into a conventionality only 
less Inert than that of the aria because violin technique had 
wider possibilities than vocal; but when Lulli settled ii^ France 
and raised to a higher level of effect the operatic style suggested 
by Cambert, he brought with him just enough of the new instra- 
mental polyphony to make his typical form of French overture 
(with its slow Introduction In dotted rhythm, and its quasi-fugal 
allegro) worthy of the important place it occupies in Bach's and 
Handel's art. 



78 



MUSIC 



(GENERAL SKETCH 



Meanwhile great though subordinate activity was also shown 
in the evolution of a new choral music dependent upon an instru- 
mental accompaniment of more complex function than that of 
mere support. This, in the hands of the Neapolitan masters, 
was destined to lead straight to the early choral music of Mozart 
and Haydn, both of whom, especially Mozart, subsequently 
learnt its greater possibilities from the study of HandeL But the 
most striking choral art of the time came from the Germans, 
who never showed that thoughtless acquiescence in the easiest 
means of effect which was already the bane of Italian art. 
Consequently, while the German output of the zyth century fails 
to show that rapid attainment of modest maturity which gives 
much Italian music of the period a permanent if slight artistic 
value, there is, in spite of much harshness, a stream of noble 
polyphonic effort in both organ and choral music in Germany 
from the time of H. Schatz (who was bom in 1585 and who was a 
great friend and admirer of Monteverde) to that of Bach and 
Handel just a century later. Nor was Germany inactive in the 
dramatic line, and the Z7th-century Italian efforts in comic opera, 
which are so interesting and so unjustly neglected by historians, 
found a parallel, before Handel's maturity, in the work of 
R. Keiser, and may be traced thzoiigh him in Handel's first 
opera, Almira. 

The best proof of the insufficiency of i7th<entury resources 
is to be found in the almost tragic blending of genius and failure 
shown by our English church music of the Restoration. The 
works of Pelham Humfrey and Blow already show the qualities 
which with Purcell seem at almost any given moment to amount 
to those of the highest genius, while hardly a single work has 
any coherence as a whole. The patchiness of Purcell's music 
was, no doubt, increased by the influence of French taste then 
predominant at court. When Pelham Humfrey was sixteen. 
King Charles II., as Sir Hubert Party remarks, " achieved the 
characteristic and subtle stroke of humour of sending him over 
to France to study the methods of the most celebrated composer 
of theatrical music of the time in order to learn how to compose 
English church music." Yet it is impossible to see how such 
ideas as Purcell's could have been presented in more than French 
continuity of flow by means of any designs less pow^ul than 
those of Bach and HandeL Purcell's ideas are, like those of 
all great artists, at least sixty years in advance of the normal 
intdUect of the time. But they are unfortunately equally in 
advance of the only technical resources then conceivable; and 
PurceO, though one of the greatest contrapuntists that ever 
lived, is probably the only instance in music of a map of really 
high genius bom out of due time. Musical talent was certainly 
as common in the 17th century as at any other time; and if we 
ask why, unless we are justified in counting Purcell as a tragic 
exception, the whole century shows not one name in the first 
artistic rank, the answer must be that, after all, artistic talent 
is far more common than the interaction of environment and 
character necessary to direct it to perfect artistic restilts. 

6. Bach and Handd. — ^It was not until the z8th century had 
begun that two men of the highest genius could find in music a 
worthy expression of their grasp of life. Bach and Handel were 
bom within a month of each other, in 1685, and in the same part 
of Saxony. Both inherited the tradition of polyphonic effort 
that the German organists and choral writers had steadily 
maintained throughout the xyth century; and both profited by 
the Italian methods that were penetrating Germany. In Bach's 
case it was the Italian art-forms that appealed to his sense of 
design. Their style did not affect him, but he saw every possi- 
bility which the forms contained, and studied them the more 
assiduotisly because they were not, like polyphonic texture, his 
birthright. In recitative his own distinctively German style 
attained an intensity and freedom of eiqpresaion which is one of 
the most moving things in art. Nevertheless, if he handled 
recitative in his own way it was not for want of acquaintance 
with the Italian formulas, nor even because he despised them; 
for in his only two extant Italian works the scraps of recitative 
are strictly in accordance with Italian convention, and the 
arias show (when we allow for their family likeness with Bach'a 



normal style) the most careftil modelling upon Italian forms. 
Again, as is well known. Bach arranged with copious additions 
and alterations many concertos by Vivaldi (together with some 
which though passing under Vivaldi's name are really by (German 
contemporaritt); and, while thus taking every opportunity of 
assimilating Italian influences in instrumental as well as in vocal 
music, he. was no less alive to the importance of the French 
overture and suite forms. Moreover, he is very clear as to where 
his ideas come from, and extremely careful to maintain every 
art-form in its integrity. Yet his style remains his own through- 
out, and the first impression of its resemblance to that of his 
German contemporaries diminishes the more the period is studied. 
Bach's art thus forms one of the most perfectly systematic 
and complete records a life's work has ever adiieved. His 
art-forms might be arranged in a sort of biological sdieme, and 
their interaction and genealogy has a clearness which might 
almost be an object of envy to men of science even if Bach had 
not demonstrated every detail of it by those wonderful re- 
writings of his own works which we have described elsewhere 
(see Bach). 

Handel's methods were as different from Bach's as his circum- 
stances. He soon left Germany and, while he never betrayed 
his birthright as a great choral writer, he quickly absorbed the 
Italian style so thoroughly as to become practically an Italian. 
He also adopted the Italian forms, but not, like Bach, from any 
profound sense of their possible place in artistic system. To 
him they were effective, and that was all. He did not trouble 
himself about the permanent idea that might underlie an art- 
form and typify its expression. He has no notion of a form as 
anything higher than a rough means of holding music together 
and maintaining its flow; but he and Bach, alone among their 
contemporaries, have an unfailing sense of all that is necessary 
to secure this end. They worked from opposite points of view: 
Bach devebps his art from within, until iU detidl, like that of 
Beethoven's last works, becomes dazzling with the glory of the 
whole design; Handel at his best is inspired by a magnificent 
scheme, in the execution of which he need condescend to finish 
of detail only so long as his inspiration does not hasten to the 
next design. Nevertheless it is to the immense sweep and 
breadth of Handel's choral style, and its emotional force, that all 
subsequent composers owe Uieir first access to the larger and 
less mechanical resources of music. (See HiiNDEL.) 

7. The Symphonic Classes. — ^After the death of Bach and 
Handel another change of view, like that Copemican revdution 
for which Kant sighed in philosophy, was necessary for the 
further development of music. Once again it consisted in an 
inversion of the relation between form and texture. But, 
whereas at the beginning of the X7th century the revolution 
consisted mainly in directing attention to chords as, so to speak, 
harmonic lumps, instead of moments in a flux of simultaneous 
melodies; in the later half of the z8th century the revolution 
concerned the larger musical outlines, and was not complicated 
by the discovery of new harmonic resources. On the contrary, 
it led to an extreme simplicity of harmony. The art of Badi 
and Handel had given perfect vitality to the forms developed 
in the x8th century, but chiefly by means of the reinfusion of 
polyphonic life. The formal aspects (that is, those that decree 
the shapes of aria and suite-movement and the balance and 
contrasts of such choruses as are not fugues) are, after aU, of 
secondary importance; the real centre of Bach's and Handd's 
technical and intellectual activity is the polyphony; and the 
more the external sh^;>e occupies the foreground the more the 
work assumes the character of light music In the aitide 
Sonata Fosms we show how this state of things was altered, 
and attention is there drawn to the dramatic power of a music 
in which the form is technically prior to the texture. And it 
is not difficult to understand that Gluck's reform of opera would 
have been a sheer impossibility if he had not dealt with music 
in the sonata style, which b capable of changing its diaiacter 
as it imfolds its designs. 

The new period of transition was neither so long nor so inter- 
eating aa thai oX thex7tli century. The contrast between the 



GENERAL SKETCH] 



MUSIC 



79 



sqaalid hfghmtnga of the new ait ind the glories of Bach and 
Haadd is afanost as great as that between tl|e monodists and 
Pakstxina, but it appeals far less to our sympathies, b^ause it 
secxns hke a contrast between noble sincerity and idle elegance. 
The new art seems so easy-going and enq>ty that it conceals 
farm OS the necessity of the Qrmpathetic historical insight for 
«4ucfa the painful experiments of the monodists almost seem to 
oy aloud. And its boldest rhetorical eiq>eriments, such as the 
**"»•"■* of Riilipp Emanuel Bach, show a security of harmony 
wfaidi, together with the very vividness of their realization of 
modem ideas, must appear to a modem listmer more like the 
hollow rhetoric of a decadent than the prophetic inspiration 
of a pioneer. And, jurt as in the 17th century, so in the time 
before Haydn and Mozart, the work that is mott valuable artis- 
ticaZly tends to be that wlu'ch is of less importance historically. 
The cohrration of the shape of music at the expense of its texture 
was drtrinrd to lead to greater things than polyphonic art had 
ever dreamt of; but no living art could be achieved until the 
uztnre waa brought once more into vital, if subordinate, relation 
to the shape. Thus, far more interesting artistically than the 
epodnmaking earlier pianoforte works of Philipp Emanuel Bach 
are his historically less fruitful oratorios, and his symphonies, 
and the rich polyphonic modifications of the new principles 
in the best works of his elder brother Friedcmann. Yet the tran- 
skion-pcriod is hardly second in historic importance to that of 
the xTth ooitury; and we may gather from it even more direct 
bints as to the meaning of the tendencies of our own day. 

As in the 17th century, so in the i8th the composers and 
critics of Haydn's youth, not knowing what to make of the new 
tcadesoea, and conscious rather of the difference between new 
and old ideas than of the true nature of either, took refuge in 
specniatioas about the enwtlonal and external expression of 
music; and when artistic power and balance fail it is very con- 
venient to 90 outside the limits of the art and explain failure 
away by external ideas. Fortunately the external ideas were 
capable of serious organic function through the medium of opera, 
and in that art-form music was passing out of the hands of 
Itafians and stwiming artistic and dramatic life under Gluck. 
The metaphysical and hterary speculation which overwhelmed 
BBtisical criticism at this time, and which produced paper warfares 
and musical party-feuds such as that between the Gluckists 
and the Picdnists, at all events had this advantage over the 
Wagnerian and anti-Wagnerian controversies of the last genera- 
tion and the disputes about the legitimate function of instru- 
mental nrasic at the present day — that it was speculation applied 
ezdusividy to an art-form in which literary questions were 
dnectly ooncemed, an art-form which moreover had up to that 
time been the grave <rf all the music composers chose to put 
iato it. But as soon as music once more attained to consistent 
prindplea all these discussions became but a memory. If Gluck's 
music had not been more musical as well as more dramatic than 
Picdni's, all its foreshadowing of Wagnerian principles would 
have availed it no more than it availed Monteverde. 

When the new art found symphonifc expression in Haydn and 
Mozart, it became music pure and simple, and yet had no more 
difficulty than painting or poetry in dealing with external 
Mkas, when these were naturally brought into it by the human 
vcke or the conditions of dramatic action. It had once more 
become an art which need reject or accept nothing on artificial or 
extraneous grounds. Beethoven soon showed how gigantic the 
scale and range of the sonata style could be, and how tremendous 
WIS its effect on the possibilities of vocal music, both dramatic 
aad chomL No revolution was needed to accomplish this. 
The style was perfectly formed, and for the first and so far the 
Qoly time in musical history a mature art of sm'all range opened 
out into an equally perfect one of gigantic range, without a 
Boment of decadence or destmction. The chief glory of the 
art that culminates in Beethoven is, of course, the instrumental 
BEflaic, an of which comes under the head of the sonata-forms 

Ifeanwhile Mozart raised comic opera, both Italian and 
GcBBian, to a height which has never since been approached 



within the dassical limits, and from which the opens of Rossini 
and his successors show a decadence so deplorable that if 
" chssicsl music " means " high art " we must say that classical 
opera buffa begins and ends in Mozart. But Gluck, finding his 
dramatic ideas encouraged by the eminent theatrical sensibilities 
of the French, had already given French opera a stimulus 
towards the expression of tragic emotion which made the classics 
of the French operatic school well worthy to inspire Beethoven 
to his one noble operatic effort and Web«T to the greatest works 
of his life. Cherubini, though no more a Frenchman than 
Gluck, was Gluck's successor in the French dsssical school of 
dramatic music. His operas, like his church music, account for 
Beethoven's touching estimation of him as the greatest composer 
of the time. In them his melodies, elsewhere curiously cold and 
prosaic, glow with the warmth of a true classic; and his tact in 
developing, accderating Und suspending a dranuitic climax is 
second o^y to Mozart's. Scarcdy inferior to Cherubini in 
mastery and dignity, far more lovable in temperament, and 
weakdied only by inequality of invention, M6hul deserves a far 
higher place in musical history than is generally accorded him. 
His most famous work, Joseph^ is of more historical importance 
than his others, but it is by no means his best from a purdy 
musical point of view, though its Biblical subject unpelled 
Mdiul to make extremdy successful experiments in "local 
colour" which had probably considerable influence upon 
Weber, whose admiration of the work was boundless. One 
thing is certain, that the romantic opera of Weber owes much 
of its inspiration to the opira comique of these masters.^ 

8. Prom BeeUumn to Wagner.— Mta Beethoven comes 
what is commonly though vagudy described as the "romantic" 
movement. In its essentials it amounts to little more than 
this, that musicians found new and prouder titles for a very 
ancient and universal division of parties. The one party set up 
a convenient scheme of form based upon the average procedure 
of all the writers of sonatas except Haydn and Beethoven, 
which scheme they chose to call dassical; while the other party 
devoted itself to the search for new materials and new means of 
expression. The dassidsts, if so they may be called, did not 
quite approve of Beethoven; and while i jere is much justification 
for the charge that has been brought against them of reducing, 
the sonata-form to a kind of game, they have for that very 
reason no real daim to be considered inheritors of ri^fff«v«| 
traditions. The true dassical method is that in which matter 
and form are so united that it is impossible to say which i& 
prior to the other. The pseudo-classics are the artists who set 
up a form conveniently like the average classical form, and fill 
it with something conveniently like the average dassical matter,, 
with just such difference as wiU seem like an advance in brilliance 
and range. The romantidsts are the artists who realize such a 
difference between thdr matter and that of previous art as impels 
them to find new forms for it, or at all events to alter the old 
forms considerably. But if they are successful the difference 
between their work and that of the true dassics becomes merely 
external; they are classics in a new art-form. As, however, 
this is as rare as true classical art is at the best of times, romanti- 
cism tends to mean little more than the difference between an 
unstable artist who cannot master his material and an artist 
who can, whether on the pseudo-classical or the true dassical 
plane. The term " romantic opera " has helped us to regard 
Weber as a romanticist in that sphere, but when we call his instm- 
mental works " romantic " the term ceases to have really 
valuable meaning. As applied to pieces like the Concertsttick, 
the IntUation i la danse, and other pieces of which the external 
subject is known either from Weber's letters or from the titles 
of the pieces themselves, the term means simply " programme- 
music " such as we have seen to be characteristic of any stage 
in which the art is imperfectly mastered. Weber's programme- 
music shows no advance on Beethoven in the illustrative 
resources of the art; and the application of the term " lomantic " 

*We must remember in this connexion that the term otfra 
comique mcaiM simply opera with spoken dialogue, and has notning 
to do with the comic idea. 



8o 



MUSIC 



{GENERAL SKETCH 



to his intereftting and, in many places beautiful pianoforte 
sonatas has no definite ground except the brilliance of his piano- 
forte technique and the helplessness in matters of design (and 
occasionally even of harmony) that drives him to violent and 
operatic outbreaks. 

Sdiubert also lends some colour to the opposition between 
romantic and classical by his weakness in large instrumental 
designs, but his sense of form was too vital for his defective 
training to warp his mind from the true rlassiral spirit; and the 
new el^ents he iniroduced into instrumental music, though not 
ratified by concentration and unity of design, were almost always 
the fruits of true inqkiration and never mere struggles to escape 
from a difficulty. His talent for purely &istrumental music was 
incomparably higher than Weber's, while that for stage-drama, 
as shown in the most ambitiouaof his numerous operas, Fierra- 
bras, was almost niL But he is the first and perhaps the greatest 
classical song writer. It was Beethoven's work on a larger 
scale that so increased the possibilities of handling remote 
harmonic sequences and rich instrumental and rhythmic effects 
as to prepare for Schubert a world in which music, no less than 
literature, was full of suggestions for that concentrated expres- 
sion of a sin^ emotion which distinguishes true lyric art. And, 
whatever the defects of Schubert's treatment of larger forms, 
his construction of small forms which can be compassed by a 
single melody or group of melodies is unsurpassable and is truly 
classical in spirit and residt. 

Schimiann had neither Schubert's native talent for larger 
form nor the irresponsible spirit which allowed Schubert to 
handle it uncritically. Nor had he the astounding lightness 
of touch and perfect balance of style with which Chopin con- 
trolled the 'most wayward imagination that has ever found 
expression in the pianoforte lyric. But he had a deep sense of 
melodic beauty, a mastery of polyphonic expression which 
for all its unorthodox tendency was second only to that of the 
greatest classics, and an epigrammatic fancy which enabled 
him to devise highly artistic forms of music never since imitated 
with success though often unintelligently copied. In his songs 
and pianoforte lyrics his -romantic ideas found perfectly mature 
expression. Throughout his life he was inspired by a deep 
reverence which, while it prevented him from attempting to 
handle classical forms with a technique which he felt to be 
inadequate, at the same time impelled him as he grew older to 
devise forms on a large scale externally resembling them. The 
German lyric poetry, which he so perfectly set to music, strength- 
ened him in his tendency to present his materials in an cpi- 
granunatic and antithetic manner; and, when he took to writing 
orchestral and chamber music, the extension of the principles 
of this style to the designing of large spaces in rigid sequence 
furnished him with a means of attaining great dignity and weight 
of climax in a form which, though neither classical nor strictly 
natural, was at all events more true in its relationship to his 
matter than that of the pseudo-classics such as Hummel or even 
Spohr. Towards the end of his short life, before darkness 
settled upon his mind, he rose perhaps to his greatest height as 
regards solemnity of inspiration, though none of his later works 
can compare with his early lyrics for artistic perfection. Be this 
as it may, his last choral works, especially the latter parts of 
Faust (which, unlike the first pmrt, was written before his powers 
failed), show that the sense of beauty and polyphonic life with 
which he began his career was always increasing; and if he was 
led to substitute an artificial and ascetic for a natural and 
classical solution of the difficulties of the larger art-forms it was 
only because of his insight into artistic ideals which he felt to be 
beyond his attainment. He shared with Mendelssohn the inevit- 
able misunderstanding of those contemporaries who grouped 
all music under one or other of the two heads, Classical and 
Romantic. 

There is good reason to believe that Mendelssohn died before 
he had more than begun to show his power, though this may be 
denied by critics who have not thought of comparing Handel's 
career up to the age at which Mendelssohn's ceased. And his 
mastery, resting, like Handel's, on the experience of a boyhood 



comparable only to Moait'S} was far too easy to induce him 
as a critic to reconcile the idea of high talent with distressing 
intellectual and technical failure. This same mastery also 
tended to discredit his own woik, both as performer and composer, 
in the estimation of those whose experience encouraged them 
to hope that imperfection and over'-exdtanent were infallible 
signs of genius. And as his facility actually did co-operate with 
the tendencies of the times to deflect much of his work into 
pseudo-classical channels, while nevertheless his independence 
of form and style kept him at all times at a higher level of 
interest and vuiety than any mere pseudo-dassic, it is not to be 
wondered that his reputation became a fonnidiable object of 
jealousy to those apostles of new ideas who felt that their own 
works were not likely to make way against academic opposition 
unless they called journalism to their aid. 

Not^iing has more confused, hindered and onbittered the 
careers of Wagner and Liszt and their disdples than the paper 
warfare which they did everything in their power to encourage. 
No doubt it had a useftil purpose, and, as nothing affords a 
greater field for intrigue than the production of operas, it is at 
least possible that the gigantic and unprecedentedly expensive 
works of Wagner might not even at the present day have 
obtained a hearing if Wagner himsdf had been a tactiful and 
reticent mail and his partisans had all been discreet lovers and 
practisers of art. As to Wagner's achievement there b now no 
important difference of opinion. It has survived all attacks 
as the most monumental result music has achieved with the aid 
of other arts. Its antecedents must be sought in many 'very 
remote regions. The rediscovery, by Mendelssohn, of the dioral 
works of Bach, after a century <rf oblivion, revealed the possi- 
bilities of polyphonic expression in a grandeur which even 
Handel rarely suggested; and inspired Mendelssohn with impor- 
tant ideas in the designing of oratorios as wholes. The complete 
fusion of polyphonic method with external and harmonic design 
had, under the same stimulus, been carried a step further than 
Beethoven by means of Schumann's more concentrated harmonic 
and lyric expression. That wildest of all romanticists, Berlioz, 
thou^ he had less polyphonic sense than any composer who 
ever before or since attained distinction, nevertheless revealed 
important new possibilities in his unique imagination in orches- 
tral colour, llie breaking down of the barriers that check 
continuity in classical opera was already indicated by Weber, 
in whose Euryanihe the movements frequently run one into the 
other, while at least twenty different themes are discoverable 
in the opera, recurring, like the Wagnerian leit-motif, in apt 
transformation and logical association with definite incidents 
and persons. 

But many things undreamed of by Weber were necessary to 
complete the breakdown of the rla^iral barriers; for the whole 
pace of musical motion had to be emancipated from the influence 
of instrumental ideas. This was the most colossal reformation 
ever attempted by a man of real artistic balance; and even the 
undoubted, though unpolished, dramatic genius ^own in Wag- 
ner's libretti (the first in which a great composer and dramatist 
are one) is but a small thing in comparison with the musical 
problems which Wagner overcomes with a success immeasur- 
ably outweighing any defects his less perfect hterary mastery 
allowed to remain in his dramatic structure and poetic diction. 
Apart from the squabbles of Wagnerian and anti-Wagnerian 
journalism, the chief difficulty of his supporters and antagonists 
really lay in this question of the pace of the music and the 
consequent breadth of harmony and design. The opening of 
the WalkUre, in which, before the curtain rises, the sound of 
driving rain is reproduced by very simple sequences that take 
sixteen long bars to move a single step, does not, as instrumental 
music, compare favourably for terseness and variety with tlie 
first twenty bars of the thunderstorm in Beethoven's Pastorixl 
Symphony, where at least four different incidents faithfully 
portray not only the first drops of rain and the distant thunder, 
but all the feelings of depression and apprehension which they 
inspire, besides carrying the listener rapidly through three 
different keys in chromatic sequence. But Beethoven's storm 



GENERAL SKETCHl 



MUSIC 



8i 



k idealized, in its whole rise and fall, within a space of five 
mteutGL Wagner's task is to select five real minutes near the 
end of the storm and to treat them with no greater variety than 
the actkm of the drama demands. When we have learnt to 
diaaodate our minds from irrelevant ideas of an earlier instru- 
mental art, we find that Wagner's broad spaces contain all that 
is necessary. Art on a large scale will always seem to have 
empty spaces, so long as we expect to find in it the kind of detail 
appnipriate to art on a smaller scale. 

Wagner's new harmonic resources are of similar and more 
comptez but not less legitimate origin. In Derfliegende Hollander 
tbe>' are, like his wider rhythmic sweep, imperfectly digested; 
in fact, much of his work before the Meistersinger is, in patches, 
debased by the influence of Meyerbeer. But in his later works 
liie more doscly his harmonic language is studied the more 
cocidosively does it show itself to be a logical and mastered 
thing. His treatment of key is, of course, adapted to tk state 
of things in which the designs are far too long for the mind to 
attach any importance to the works ending in the key in which 
it began. To compare Wagner's key-system with that of a 
symphony b like comparing the peispective and compodtion 
of a panoranm with the perspective and composition of an easel 
picture. Indeed the differences are precisely analogous in the 
t«o cases; and Wagner's sense of harmony and key turns out 
on investigation to be the classical sense truly adapted to its 
new conditions. For this very reason it is in detail quite irrele- 
vant to symphonic art; and there was nothing anti- Wagnerian 
in the reasons why Brahms had so little to do with it in his 
Rosic, although every circumstance of the personal controversies 
and thinly dl^uiscd persecutions of Brahms's youth were enough 
to give any upholder of classical symphonic art a rooted prejudice 
lo everything bearing the name of " romantic." 

Side by side with Wagner many enthusiasts place Ltszt; and 
it is indisputable that Lbzt had in mind a larger and slower flow 
ci muskal sequence closely akin to Wagner's, and, no doubt, 
portly independent of it; and moreover, that one of Liszt's 
aims was to apply this to instrumental music. Also his mastery 
and poetic power as a pianoforte player were faithfully reflected 
in his later treatment of the orchestra, and ensured an extra- 
ordinary rhetorical plausibility for anything he chose to say. 
But neither the princely magnanimity of his personal character, 
which showed itself in his generosity alike to struggling artists 
and to his opponents, nor the great stimulus he gave (both by 
bis compositions and his unceasing personal efforts and encour- 
agement) to new musical ideas on romantic lines, ought at this 
Li33e of day to blind us to the hoUowness and essential vulgarity 
of his i^yle. These unfortunate qualities did not secure for his 
compositions immediate popular acceptance; for they were 
outweighed by the true novelty of his aims. But recently they 
have given his symphonic poems an attractiveness which, while 
ft has galvanized a belated interest in those works, has made 
many critics blind to their historical importance as the founda- 
tioa of new forms which have undergone a development of 
bcasational brilliance under Richard Strauss. 

M^uawhilc the party poh'tics of modem music did much to 
datrsct public attention from the works of Brahms, who 
carried on the true classical method of the sonata-forms in his 
cTchestral and chamber music, while he was no less great and 
<^%inal as a writer <^ songs and choral music of all kinds. He 
also devdoped the pianoforte lyric and widened its range. 
Widiottt losing its characteristic unity it assumed a freedom and 
hrgEisess of expression hitherto only attained in sonatas. Hence, 
bowrwr, Brahms's work, like Bach's, seemed, from its continuity 
with tbe dassical forms, to look backward rather than forward. 
Indeed Brahms's reputation b in many quarters that of an 
acfedemic reactionary; just as Bach's was, even at a time when 
tbe word " academic " was held to be rather a title of honour 
tk^n of reproach. When the contemporary standpoints of 
CTttidsin are established by the production of works of art in 
which the nen dements shall no longer be at war with one another 
asd vith the whole, perhaps it will be recognized once more that 
the idea of progress has no value as a critical standard unless 

XIX 3* 



it is strictly applied to that prindple by which every work of 
art must differ in every part of its form from every other 
work, predsely as far as its material differs and no further. 
Then, perhaps, as the conservative Bach after a hundred years 
of neglect revealed himself as the most profoundly modem force 
in the music of the zgth century, while that of his gifted and 
progressive sons became a forgotten fashion as soon as their 
goal was attained by grater masters, so may the musical epoch 
that seems now to Have closed be remembered by posterity as 
the age, not of Wagner and the pioneer Liszt, but the age of 
Wagner and Brahms. 

It will also .a all probability be remembered as the age in 
which the performer ceased to be necessarily the intellectual 
inferior of the composer and musical scholar. With the excep- 
tion of Wagner and Berlioz every great composer, since Palestrina 
sang in the papal choir, has paid his way as a performer; but 
Joseph Joachim was the first who threw the whole mind of a 
great composer into the career of an interpreter; and the example 
set by him, Bulow, Clara Schumann and Jenny Lind, though 
followed by very few other artists, sufficed to dispd for ever 
the old association of the musical performer with the mounte- 
bank. 

Joachim's influence on Branms was incalculable. The two 
composers met at the time when new musical tcndendes were 
beginning to arouse violent controversy. At the age of twenty- 
one Joachim had produced in his Hungarian Concerto a work of 
high classical mastery and great nobility, and his technique in 
form and texture was then considerably in advance of Brahms's. 
For some years Joachim and Brahms interchanged contrapuntal 
exercises, and many of the greatest and most perfect of Brahms's 
earlier works owe much to Joachim's criticism. Yet it is 
impossible to regret that Joachim did not himself carry on as 
a composer the work he so nobly began, when we realize the 
enormous influence of his playing in the history of modem music. 
By it we have become familiar with a standard of truthfulness 
in performance which all the generous efforts of Wagner and 
Liszt could hardly have rendered independent of their own 
spedal propaganda. And by it the record of classical music has 
been made a matter of genuine public knowledge, with a unique 
freedom from those popularizing tendende^ which invest vulgar 
error with the authority of academic tmth. 

In this respect there is a real change in the nature of modem 
musical culture. No serious composer at the present day would 
dedicate a great work to an artist who, like F. C16ment, for whom 
Beethoven wrote his Vit^in Concerto, would perform the work 
in two portions and between them play a sonata for the violin 
on one string with the violin upside down. But it is hardly 
tme that Wagner and Liszt produced a real alteration in the 
standard of general culture among musidans. Their work, 
especially Wagner's, appealed, like Gluck's, lo many specific 
literary and philosophical interests, and they themselves were 
brilliant talkers; but music will always remain the most self- 
centred of the arts, and men of true culture will measure the 
depth and range of the musidan's mind by the spontandty 
and truthfulness of his musical expression rather than by his 
volubility on other subjects. The greatest musicians have not 
often been masters of more than one language; but they have 
always been men of true culture. Their humanity has been 
illuminated by the constant presence of idcab which their 
artistic mastery keeps in touch with reality. 

Chkonolocical Tablb 

Pythagoras, c. 582-500 B.C. Deteraiincs the ratios of the diatonic 

scale. 
Aristoxcnus, JL 320 B.C. Our chief authority On classical Greek 

music 
Ptolemy, fi. a.d. 130. Astronomer, geographer, matnematidan 

and writer on music. Reforms the Greek modes so as to prepare 

the way for the ecclesiastical modes. 
St Ambrose. Anangcs the Ambrosian tones of church music, 

A.o. 384. 
Hucbatd, c. 840-5)30. Systematixer of Diaphmia or Orgmtum 

(called by htm Sympkonia), and inventor of a simple and in- 
genious notation which did not survive him. 



82 

Gidda of Anoo, (^wo-iojo. 

FnncD d CoIccm, tith century imliot ol inadi 
Arthra. Worla gndcr Ibc ume d( Fnofo *| 
■ad pU« whEh Uvc kd to the aMimpcioa Ot I 
IhiK diflcRiU nuihan, who, bewevtr, b*v( 
txpUiiKd any igun; and Uk iilhccuuiy uk 
the Fnnaiidia pefiod oC diKUL 

ll^:i«*id taeDntuntlieewliHt luletfor" nv 

M. lor minic la which diSont vcicacai AaiiQ 

The Radinc MS.f. 11^ (Britak hivnnn. MS. Hul., 

WilurOdlBnon,jl.i»a. EuUih wrila ea nnufe. 
AdundclilUi,l)I»-»WICoaa(clii " 
Muhiuh.jl. lUO ** " 

G. DhIiv, died 1474. Netheriiad antnpunnl c 

(ThtM m UE the principal [oundtn « ut: 

JaqiiinDeaMi, IM3-i}ii. The Gm (>»t co 

Maitiu or la* Coldih Aci 



tRECENT HUSIC 







F.' CuwTtro. . 
T. L. de Victohi 



T. T*llb,(, isijldicif Ijas. Chiucbo) 



capd mmdricKlvt- 
Ccmui Utitm. 



i. wibre,f!t6BO. Tl«lrig»lui. 
T. Moibv.jL ijgo- Theemtand 
Oitaods CiSbnaa, isSj-iCiS- 

I. Hindi, « Gullu*, t. 1S50-1MI-' _ 

HaniLca Kul« or HutlB, IS64-1611. ChuKh coaipoav. 
C. AkUager, <■ 1563-1618. Cfautch MmptiiB. 
Th 

alicii'i la Kapfranlam 

pnduoid in 1600. Tin 

dependent oa iaMnime 



Tai MoMODi 
Canlieii'i la Katfrtinlcmtv H Ami. 




Peri'e AarMici, 160a. 

Montevmfe, IJ67-164]. Cn>l pun 

Tai Renuuahu — . 

M.Schilu, iste-i&;i. Combina nwnndic nnd polyphoak; prio- 

dplc* la CeriDio tbimb muric ud lulUa oiadngaL 
G. FiEKobaldi, JS8t'i&u. Ornn campaer. 

Alonadio Soriitti. li^u)-]?];. Founds <A the arii- 
Handdian open. An j the NetpoUtep ichoal oC com 
J, B, Lulli, 163J-16B7. Tliefimd»MiLo(Fr™ehopa^ 
H. Pui™U, (. ifijSi died 1695. 
A. Cocelli, lejJ-'J'J- The "* diHic <* the vioUi 



F. Coiiptrin, i66*;i7jj-~F' 






.(onfrHj 



(ancUul Ulla 
M«]-I76t. FRBch open «ita, hupddKcdlat nod 

D. Bimehudb 1637-1707. 
J. & Buh. 1683-1750. 
C. F. Hudd, i6gi-i7S»- 

TBI SOMITA ErocH 
Dmocnieo Sariaitl. 16S5-1757, un a( AtemndFo, Huprichord 

Yiituoeo »nd muter of  ipecUI early type -* 

K. Ptnipp Emuud Dich. 1714-17M, third ton 

The priadpel pioneer o( Ibe Binti ityle. 
C. W. Quirk. I7i4-i7>7. Refofiaec ol opm. u 
F. J. Hiyda, 1731-1809. 



Chenibini. I7ic-^|S4». A duw o( French opera and of cfaaich 




Thi Ltuc and Dumatic 0* " RmuHTii: " Piuod 


r 


r, M. Ii« .he only qu^llAallor^ t^-n ^ 1'""' of «hich the 




'l 


.111': and, B» IhiWHiDt' ihu i.jM . the definition! mow not 
it.r. a> cMlurive. The chwcc .■! n.^ma u. however, jiwfcd 






t 


nt omuMHU nod aniitic diipi<.p..iTi..r,. 


..-. .796-1816. MwerofromAn.L.^i.-<4. 


Scl 


.|.m. .79T-1SJ*- The dame oiwHE. 


-1' 


':irtL'.rT'PL^. . ....... ,„*. 



. iSoj-ll 



.-i9s^. 



withdi 



L ^:', L-i [-l":j I'L'ib. .'tI' ^ .ri^j .... .l .<I ptonccr of the lymphocuc 

Bruckner, 1914-1696. Theeyinphomtt c4 (be Wapierian pejty. 
Brahm*. 1833-1997. Cluuca] tymphorijc and lyric co m po r . 

chief FelkrW'Worker in contioEung the c liiiii ca l tnditvn. 
Teduniovtkv. iS40'iB93. 



DvdH 



i SlnuB, 1864- 



^r 



DenlopDieiil ef ibe lymphonic 

iMT Mnnc 



ahnu. the great German compOKis 

A. Buneert (b. 1846) and Cyrili 
« reguiKd ai imporiant: and E. 
II nicc« o-ith Hiiuil ml CreM 

century, ni RichanI Sttauaa (j.i.) : 

uny AiU kept up her htvciDoriy in 
, her frtnt conducton and inatru- 
natiooIotheproducUoDoi muatcal 



Wapier ai iu 
ry all Ihsl it ie| 



That whKfa happened kith the Netllierlancliah compoK 
l6lb century, and oilh LuUi in the I7lh,-wai repraled, 
LeiB exactly, with Rottini iq Ibe eaiiy ran erf ibe [9th crt 

-.L .., Duriri Ibe Ian quarter of 

lied by Ibe once-adored nane o 

„ a uyle aa different aa na«bli 

The chance wu nuinly due to Ibe Bdiian mu 
Fnnck (iSi^iSga}. wlio eatibUibed a Und 
aympbDiuc and orchcalnl compoaition. at iii^juku lw L,n.- ^uu- 
venliooal nethoda punued at the l^tria Conervnioiie. Maiaeoet 
*u left aa almoat the only npRKniative cf the okier acbocl, bikI 
[mm Edouard Lak) (|8IV-|S»1) lo C. Chaipemvr (b. IMo), alt 
Ibe younier conpoaen of Fnnce adopted Ibe ncm ilide. With 
D (b. iiS7), and Gabriel 



inlorinal ichool of 




RECENT Mt»IC] 



MUSIC 



83 



nGdity ai atyle and impretriveness, from the t!nie when he wrote 
ha euficr operu. An4 Arrigo BoHo't Me/UteftU had an immenie 
tnflnrnrr on modern Italian music. AmoM the irriten of " abeo* 
lute " moic the most iUustriotts are G. ^ambati 0>. 1843) and 
G. Martocci (b. 18^6). the latter** symphonv in D minor being a 
Mcanwhife a younaer operatic acnocrf wi 



. younger operatic acnooi was growing up. 
of ^licb the fint production was the nora mirMlu of Spiro 
Samara (b. 1861), given in 1886. Its culmination was in the 
Cna«er ia rusticama (1890) of Pietro Mascagni (b. 1863), the 
Fa^tacd {1S92) of R. Leoncavallo (b. 1858), and the operas- of 
Puccini (b. 1858), noublyl* Kitfi (1884) "" 



GiioMiio Puccini (b. 1858). noubly le ViUt (1884). liamon LeseatU 
(1893). La Bohhme (ite6). Tosca (1900), and Madama BuiUrfiy 
(1904). The ocatonos of Don Lorenxo Perosi (b. 1872) had an inter- 
esting influence on the church muuc of Italy (see Palutrina). 

Msno. — ^The new Russian school of music orieinated with M. A. 
Balaldrev (b. 1 836), who was instrumental in founding the Free 
School of Music at St Petersburg, and who introduced the music 
of Berfioz and Lisit into Russia; he instilled the principles of 
" advanced " music into A. P. Borodin (1834-1887). C. A. Cui 
(b. 1835). M. P. Moussorgsky (1839-1881). and N. A. 'Rimsky- 
Kocsakov (1844-1908). all of whom, as usual with Russian com- 
poaer». were, strictly speaking, amateura in muuc, having some 
other profesnon in the absence of any possible opportunity for 
making moaty out of music in Russia. The most remarkable 
nan amoiw their cootempoiaries was undoubtedly Tschaikovsky 
(f.7.)« A. Liadov (b. i^SSi exccb as a writer for the pianoforte, 
andA.GIaiDunov (b. 1865) has composed a number of fine ofchestial 



many 

wonts 



Vnitti States. — (X the older American composera. only John 
Knowles Paine (d. IQ06) and Dudley Buck (d. 1909), both bom in 
iS^. and Benjamin Johnson Lang (1837-1909), fKcd be mentioned. 
Fame, profeaaor of music at Harvard University, and composer 
of oratorios, orchestral music. Ac., ranks irith the advanced school 
d romantic c om p os er a. Dudley Buck was one of the first American 
co mp os e ia whose names were known in Europe; and if his numerous 
camatas and church music do not reach a very high standard accord- 
is^ to modem ideas, he did much to conquer uie general apathy 
«nh refold to the existence of original music in the States. Lang, 
prondaent as organist and conductor, also became distinguished as 
a com p oser. GoDrge Whitefield Chadwick (b. 1834) has produced 
ofcheatral and vocal works of original merit. Though the 
of Clayton Johns (b. 1857) are less ambitbus, they have 
.«» .jore popularity in Europe, and his songs, like those of Arthur 
Foote (b. 1853). Re^nakl De Kovenjb. 1850). and Ethelbert Nevin 
(1S62-1901). are widely known. Edward Alexander McDowell 
(fr.) may be regardca as the most original modem American 
CDaposer. Walter Johannes Damrosch Tb. 1862), the eminent 
ODodactor of the New York Symphony Orchestra, and of various 
oiKfatJC npdertakings, has established his position as an original 
and poetic composer, not only by his opera. The Scarlet LeUert but 
bv such aoms a» the intensely dramatic " Danny Deever." Dr 
Honiio WilCam Parker's (b. 1863) oratorio settings of the hymn 
" Hora novissima " and of " The Wanderer's Psalm "lire deservedly 
pofMlar. Their masterly workmanship and his power of expressbn 
n acred music mark nim as a distinct personality. Numerous 
Qfchesxial as well as vocal works have not been heard out of America, 
bat a group of songs, newly set to the words of familiar old' English 
(fitties. have obtamed great success. Mrs H. H. A. Beach, the 
yonagcst of the p«pminent composers of the United States and an 
aorompGsbed ptanbt. has attained a hig^ reputation as a writer 
b aD the more ambitious forms of music. .Many of her songs and 
aaihems have obtained wide popularity. The achievements of the 
Uaiied States are, however, las marked in the production of new 
cwaposCTa than in the attention which has been paid to musical 
edflcatioo and appndation generally. Henry E. Krehbiel (b. 1854), 
the vcO-kaown critic, was especially prominent in drawing American 
atieatwn to Wagner and Brahms. The New York Opera has been 
■ade a centre for the finest artists of the day, and the symphony 
concerts at Boston and Chicago have been unrivalled for excellence. 
It is worthy of note that no country has produced a greater number 
ot the most eminent of recent singers. Mesdamea E. Eames, 
Nordka, Miimie Hauck, Susan Strong, Suaanne Adams. Sybil 
Sanderson. Ertber Palliser. Evangeline Tlorence. and very many 
aorr amoiw leading sopranos, with Messrs E. E. Oudin, D. Bispham 
and Denis (ySuUIvan, to name but three out of the host of excellent 
■ale artsts, proved the natural ability of the Americans in vocal 
•laic; and it might also be said that the more notable English- 
^peaki^ popib of the various excellent French schook of voice- 
p CDd n c ti on are American with hardly an exceptbn. 

Vaited KtMgdom, — English munc requires more detailed notice, 
if osiy because oc the striking change in the natbnal feeling with 
regard to it. The utioo had been accustomed for so bng to 
n n wder music aa an exotic, that* notwithstanding the glories of 
the older schoob of Erielish music, the amount of attentbn paid to 
mrythifl|g that came from abroad, and the rich treasures 01 tradi- 
^sernai anddistinctively English music scattered through the country, 
(he.majortty of educated people adhem! to the common belief that 
Ea^land was not a musical country.^ The beauty and the enormous 
oaaMity of traditional Irish music, the enthusiasm created in 
Vithnd by trampery soofs written in what was supposed to be 



an imitatkm of the Scottish style, the exisieooe of the Welsh 
Eisteddfodau, were admitted facts; but England was supposed to 
have had no share in these gifts of nature or art, and the vogue of 
foreign music, from Italian opera to classical symphonlea, was held 
as evidence of her poverty, instead of beinn partly the reason of 
the national sterility. In the sucoeasive periods during which the 
music of Handel and Mendelssohn rmpectively had been held aa 
all-sufficient for right-thinldng muaidans, success oouki only be 
attained, if at all, by those English musicians who deliberately set 
themselves to copy the style 01 these neat masters;, the few men 
who had the determination to resist toe popular movement were 
either confined, like the Wealeys, to one branch of music in which 
some originali^ of thought was still albwed, that of the Church, 
or, like Henry Hugo Pierson in the days of the Mendelssohn worship, 
were driven to seek abroad the recoyniitbn they could not obtam 
at home. For a time it seemed as u the great vogue of Gounod 
would exalt him into a third artistic despot; but no native com- 
poser had even the energy to imitate hb Faust; and, by thi date 
of The Rtdemptwn (1882) and Mcfs d vita (1885), a renaisaanoe of 
Eiwlish music had already begun. 

For a generation up to the eighties the affairs of foreign open 
in' England were rather depreanng; the rival houses oresided over 
by the impresarios Frederick Gye (1810-1878) and Colonel J. H. 
Mapleson (i 828-1901) had been going from bad to worse; the 
traditions of what were called *' the palmy days ** had been for^ 
gotten, and with the retirement of Christine Nilaaoo in 1881, and 
the death of Therese J. A. Tietjens in 1877, the race of the great 
queens of song seemed to have come to an end. It la true that 
Mme Patti was in the plenitude of her fame and powers, but the 
number of her imperronatbns. perfect as they were, was so small 
that she abne could not support the weight of an opera season, 
and her terms «niade it impossible for any manager to make both 
ends meet unless the rest of the company were chosen on the 
principle enunciated by the husband of Mme Catalan!. ** Ma femme 
et quatre ou dnq poupies.*' Mme Albani (b. 1851) had made her 
name famous, but the most important part of ner artistic career 
was yet to Come. She had already brought TamiJtdMsar and 
Lohengrin into notice, but in Italian versbns. as was then usual; 
and the great vogue of Wagner's operas dkl not bqnn until the series 
of Wa^iner oonceru given at the Royal Albert Hall in 1877 with 
the object of collecting funds for the preservation of the Bayreuth 
scheme, which after the productbn 01 the Nibdunaen trilogy in 
1876 had become involved in serious financial dimculties. The 
two seasoiu of German (^lera at Drury Lane under Dr Hans Richter 
(b. 1843) in 1882 and I884, and the productbn of the trilogy at 
Her Majesty's in 1882^ under Angdo Neumann's managership, first 
taught stay-at-home Englishmen what Wagner really was. aiid an 
Italian opera as such iua, witb Italian as the ^exclusive langua^ 
employed and the old * star " system in full swing) ceased to exist 
as a re^lar institution a few years after that. The revival of 

Sublb interest in the opera only took place after Mr (afterwards 
ir) Augustus Harris (1852-1896) had atarted hia aeriea of operas 
at Drury Lane in 1887. In the foUowing aeaaon Harris took 
Covent Garden, and since that time the (^lera has been rest o red 
to greater public favour than it ever enjoyed, at all events since the 
days of Jeimy Lind. The clever mana^ saw that the pubUc 
was tirea of operas arranged to suit the views of the prima donna 
and no one elsCf and he cast the works he produced, among which 
were Un Balto m masdura and Lu Hi^iunots, with due attentbn 
to every part. The brothers lean and Edouard de Reask^, both 
of whom nad appeared in Loiulon before — ^the former as a baritone 
and the latter during the seasons 1880-1884 — were even stronger 
attractions to the musical public of the time than the varbua 
leading sopranoa, among whom were Mme Albani, Miss M. Mac- 
intyre, Mme Melba, Fniu Sucher and Mme Nordica, during the 
earlier seasoiu, and Mme Eames. Mile Ravocli, MM. Lassalle and 
P. H. Plan^on, and many other Parisian favouritea later. As 
time went on, the excellent custom obtained of giving each work 
in the language in which it was written, and among the oistinguished 
Carman artists who were added to the company *vere Frau M. 
Temina, Frau E. Schumann*Heink, Frau Lilli Lebmann and many 
more. Since Harris's death in 1806 the treditbns started by him 
were on the whole well maintained, and as a sign of the difference 
between the present and the former positbn of English composers, 
it may be mentioned that two operas by F; H. Cowen, Sigita and 
Harold, and two by Stanford, The Veiled Prophet and Mwch Ado 
about NothtHft were produced. To Signor Lago, a manager ^ of 
more enterprise than good fortune, belongs the credit of reviving 
Cluck's Orfea (with the mastcriy impersonatbn of the principal 
character by Mile Giulia RavoglO. and of 'bringing out Caeatteria 
rusticana, Tschaikovricy's Eugen Onegin and other works. 

If it be just to name one institution and one man as the creator 
of such an atmosphere as albwed the genius of English composere 
to flourish, then that honour must be paid to the Crystal Palace 
and August Manns, the conductor of its Saturday concerts. At 
first engaged as sub-conductor, under a certain bchallehn, at the 
building which was the lasting result of the Great Exhib«tion of 
1851, he became director of the music in 1855: so for the better 

Krt of half a century his influence was exerted on behalf of the 
It music of all schools, and especially in favour of anything of 



84 



MUSIC 



IRECENT MUSIC 



English growth. Through evil report and good report he tapported 
his convictions, and for many years he introduced one English 
composer after another to a fame which they would have found it 
hard to gain without his help and that of Sir George Grove, his 
loyal supporter. In 1862, when Arthur Sullivan had just returned 
from his studies in LeipjEig, his Tempest music was produced at the 
Crystal Palace, and it is oeyond question that it was this success 
and that of the succeeding works from the same hand which first 
showed Englishmen that music worth listening to might be pro- 
duced by an English hand. Sullivan reached the hignest point of 
bu achievement in The Golden Legend (1886), his most important 
contribution to the music of the renaissance. An important part 
of the Crystal Palace music was that the concerts did not follow 
but led, popular taste; the works of Schubert, Schumann ana 
many other great masters were given constantly, and the whole 
repertory of classical music was cone through, so that a constant 
attendant at these concerts would have become acquainted with 
the whole range ol the best class of music. From 1859 onwards 
the classical chamber-music could be heard at the Popular Concerts 
started by Arthur Chappcll, and for many yeare their repertory 
was not Ins catholic than that of the Crystal Palace undertaking; 
that in later times the habit increased to a lamentable extent of 
choosing only the " favourite " {i.e. hackneyed) works of the great 
masters does not lessen the educational value of the older concerts. 
The lovers of the newer developments of music were always more 
fully satisfied at the concerts of the Musical Union, a body founded 
by John Ella in 1844. which lasted until 1880. From 1879 onwards 
the visits o( Hans Richter, the conductor, were a feature of the 
musical season, and the importance of his work, not only in spread- 
ing a love of Wagner's music, but in regard to every other branch 
of^the best orchestral music, cannot be exaggerated. Like the 
popular concerts, the Richter concerts somewhat fell away in 
later years from their original purpose, and their managers were 
led by the popularity of certam pieces to give too little variety. 
The importance of Richter's work was in bringing forward the finest 
Englbh music In the years when the masters of the renaissance 
were young and untried. Here were to be heard the orchestral 
works of Sir Hubert Partv, Sir Charles Villiers Stanford, Sir A. 
Campbell Mackenzie and Dr F. H. Cowen ; and the names of these 
composers were thus brought into notice much more effectually 
than could have been the case in other surrounding;s. Meanwhile 
outside London the work of the renaissance was beii^ carried on, 
notably at Cambridge, where by the amalgamation of various 
•m^ler societies with the University Musical Society, Stanford 
created in 1875 a splendid institution which did much to foster a 
love of the best music for many years; and at Oxford, where private 
meetings in the rooms of Hubert Parry brought about the institu- 
tion of the Musical Club, which has borne fruit in many wajrs, 
though only in the direction of chamber-music. The Bach Choir, 
founded by Mr Arthur Duke Coleridge in 1875, and conducted for 
the first ten years of its existence by Mr Otto Goldschmidt and 
subsequently oy Professor Stanford, worked on purely uncommercial 
lines ever since its foundation, ana besides many important works 
of Bach, it brought forward most important compositions by 
Englishmen, and daA a prominent share in the work of the renais- 
sance. Parry's earlier compositions had a certain austerity in 
them which, while it commanded the homage of the cultivated few, 
prevented their obtaining wide popularity; and it was not until 
the date of his choral setting of Milton's Ode at a Solemn Mustek 
that he found his true vein. In this and its many successors, 
produced at the autumn festivals, though very rarely given in 
London, there was a nobility of utterance, a suolimity 01 concep- 
tion, a mastery of resource, that far surpass anything accomplished 
in Ensland since the days of Purcell ; while his " Symphonic Varia- 
tions for orchestra, and at least two of his symphonies, exhibit 
his command of the modem modifications of classical forms in 
great perfection. Like Parry, Stanford first caught the ear of the 

?ublic at la^e with a choral work, the stirring ballad-setting of 
cnnyson's Revenge', and in all his earlier and later works alike, 
which include compositions in every form, he shows himself a 
supreme master of effect ; in dramatic or lyrical handling of voices, 
in orchestral and chamber-music, his sense of beauty is unfailing, 
and while his ideas have real distinction, his treatment of them is 
nearly always the chief interest ci his works. The work of the 
musical renaissance has been more beneficially fostered by these 
two masters than by any other individuals, through the medium 
of the Royal College of Music.^ In 1876 the National Training 
School of Music was opened with Sullivan as principal; he was 
succeeded by Sir John Stainer in 188 1, and the circumstance that 
such artists as Mr Eugen d'Albert and Mr Frederic Cliffc received 
there the foundation oftheir musical education is the only important 
fact connected with the institution, which in 1882 was succeeded 
by the Royal College of Music, under the directorship of Sir George 
Grove, and with Parry and Stanford as professors of composition. 
In 1894 Parry succeeded to the directorship, and before and after, 
this date wonc of the best educational kind was done in all branches 
of the art, but most of all in the important branch of composition. 
Mackenzie's place among the masters of the renaissance is assured 
by his romantic compositions for orchestra — such as La Belle dame 
ians merci and the two " Scottish Rhapsodies "; some of his choral 



works, such as the oratorios, show some tendency to fall back into 
the conventionalities from which the renaissance movement was an 
effort to escape; but in The Cottar's Saturday Night; The Story of 
Sayid; Veni, Creator Spiritus, and many other things, not except- 
ing the opera Colomba or the witty " Britannia " overture, he shows 
no lack ot spontaneity or power. As principal of the Royal Academy 
of Music (he succeeded Macfarrcn m 1888) he revived the former 
glories of the school, and the excellent plan by which it and the Royal 
College unite their forces in the examinations of the Associated 
Board is largely due to his initiative. The opera just mentioned 
was the first ot the modem series of English operas brought out 
from 1883 onwards by the Cari Rosa company during iu tenure 
of Dniry Lane Theatre: at the time it seemed as though English 
opera had a chance of getting permanently established, but the 
enterprise, being a purely private and individual one, failed to have 
a lasting effect upon the art of the country, and after the production 
of two operas by Mackenzie, two by Arthur Goring Tliomas, one 
by F. Corder, two by Cowen and one by Stanfora, the artistic 
work of the company grew ffradually less and less important. In 
spite of the strong influence m French ideals and methoas, the music 
of Arthur Goring Thomas was remarkable for individuality and 
charm; in any other a>uncry his beautiful opera Esmeralda would 
have formed part of the regular repertory; and his orchestral 
suites, cantatas and a multitude of graceful and original songs, 
remain as evidence that if his career had been proloi^ed, the art 
of Eng^land might have been enriched by some masterpiece it would 
not willingly have let die. After a youth of extraordinary pre- 
cocity, and a number of variously successful attempts in the more 
ambitious and more serious branches of the art, Cowen found his 
chief success in the treatment of fanciful or fairy subjects, whether 
in cantatas or orchestral works; here he is without a rival, and his 
ideas are uniformly graceful, excellently treated and wonderfully 
effective. His second tenure of the post of conductor of the Phil- 
harmonic Society showed him to be a fiighly accomplidicd conductor. 

In regard to English opera two more undertakings deserve to be 
recorded. In 1891 the Royal English Opera House was opened 
with Sullivan's Jvanhoe, a work written especially for the occasion) 
the absence of anything like a repertory, and the retention <rf this 
one work in the bills for a period far 'longer than its attractions 
could warrant, brought the inevitable result, and shortly after the 
production of a charming French comic opera the theatre was 
turned into the -Palace Music Hall. The charming and thoroughly- 
characteristic Shamus O'Brien of Stanford was successfully pro- 
duced in 1896 at the Op^ra Comique theatre. This work brought 
into public prominence the conductor Mr Henry J. Wood (b. 1870). 
who exercised a powerful influence on the art of the country by 
means of his orchestra, which was constantly to be b«srd at the 
Queen's Hall, and which attained, by continual performance 
together, a degree of perfection before unknown in England. It 
achieved an important work in bringing music within the reach oC 
all classes at the Promenade Concerts siven through each summer* 
as well as by means of the Symphony Concerts at other seasons. 

The movement thus started by Mr Wood increased and spread 
remarkably in later years. His training of the Queen's Hall 
Orchestra was characterized by a thoroughness and severity pre- 
viously unknown in Englbh orchestras. This was -partly made 
possible by the admirable business organization which fostered 
the movement in its eariicr years; so many Concerts were guaranteed 
that it was posuble to give the players engagements which included 
a lar^ amount of rehearsing. The result Was soon apparent, not 
only m the raising of the standard of orchestral plajring, but also 
in thp higher and more intelligent standard of criticism to which 
performances were subjected both by experts and by the general 
public. The public taste in London for symphonic music grew so 
rapidly as to encourage the establishment of other bodice of players, 
until in 1910 there were five first-clan professional orchestras 
giving concerts regularly in London — the Philharmonic Society, 
the Queen's Hall Orchestra, the London Symphony Orchestra 
(descnbcd by Dr Hans Richter as " the finest orchestra in the 
worid "), the New Symphony Orchestra under Mr Landon Ronald 
(b. 1873), a composer and conductor of striking ability, and Mr 
Thomas Beecham s Orchestra. Mr Beecham, who had come rapidly 
to the front as a musical enthusiast and conductor, paid special 
attention to the work of British composers. Manchester, Birming- 
ham, Liverpool and Edinbuigh, had their own orchestras; and it 
might be said that the whow of the United Kingdom was now 
permeated with a taste for and a knowledge of orchestral music. 
The effect of this development has influenced the whole of the musical 
life of England. The symphony and the symphonic poem have 
taken the place so long held b]^ the oratorio m popular taste; and 
English composers of any merit or ability find it possible to get 
a hearing for orchestral work which at the end of the 19th century 
would have had to remain unperformed and unheard. The result 
has been the rapid development of a school of English orchestral 
composers — a school of considerable achievement and still greater 
promise. 

The new school of English writers contains many names of 
skilled composers. Sir Eoward Elgar established his reputation 
by his vigorous Caractacus and the grandiose imaginings of his 
Dream of Cerontius^ as by orchestral and chamber compositions of 



RECENT MUSiq 

4nd individiiitlly, and b); being Ihe 
F the lyRipboni 



MUSIC 



»S 






TV qualil) 



al Ttcliaikov.liy. Ml Ednnl German 

. 'Ic^e of tfleci uand him in food itnd- 
Frfieric CUBf't onlwirral work* it eiLircmcl]' 
iommrll (b. iMj). who •uctttded Suincr ai 



tl^ne-^xE^fmm Ttnnyio" iti^' but bifuZTani variui 



»'3ii 



made a new npuution by iier c> 
-'Tfi imm iIk pTDrvuion oT a aingrr 
ri>!ir-Taylor'i (b. laij) HiKoalka i, 
.ti trill  NudcaL al tbc Royal Colic 
<iy ih»i tbe Ihird nan ol ihc irilDg 

byibt Royal C'—' =— —  

 -— hiel., ih 












M^Marielamul^E^ Cbn Butt. Mim Agn 
Suilnr. Eitoard Lloyd, B« Davie*, Plunktl Ci 
Dans: or of web paniRi at Mia Ff'- n>vi 
Bnkk. n but  conlinun 
Tt- --^^iiiAc Mudy o( tl 

iSioet of STs.'Roctatro'dgii-i) 

.. ,_Jlc fir« in Ih» Encjdapiudia BriJ 

Ditlumarj 0f Untie, made tHc tubiect clar to many 
pupiiie in the darli befDre; ana Ibt aclua] wrfo' 



dsndcdly II 



perhapa tbc n* 

iMi» Anna "Auiia™r£illl'^li1 ntyr 

~ - choll., Mm. 

ind Ftram™ 

of tiie iradriBi^rBriiil. cicillcn^' 



clBcni 



fch! 

liiol ^.o[ tbt In 



of iMs did 

tl branch of aKhaeoloffy whkh it concerned 

and iHinntion of ol7 muiicil inunimcnii, 

by Mr A. ]. Hiplcini (iSi6~i9a<; 

n of Broadwood), the Rev, F. W. 

AiTukl DnIiiKiKh and ottiert. Tlie fi 



ions conneclcd with Ihe firm of Broadwood), the 

■Uk^^ ... ._„ _._ _ _ 

-KC1II ol Enclith Iradhunal muHC, and did much 

1 >iih wigen of the pretent day. 
BiBUDcaAPflv, — Among encyclopaedic dictionar 

'^r C«nE Cnivt'i DiilSxury tf Mutic and Mm 
liHH Kw ed. by J. A. Fuller Maiiland. IW4-1908I. 
4aCB Amoflv pablkationt in Englith, while Robert 



W-i^S) 



;. SebHSi^t EMjmpiJa ia tBammU* mMtHuliukn 

"i^ tiSis-1838}; Mendel and Rcinnuinn'i UuiiJaliiilui Con- 
•inaiwiailm (Ind ed., tMj); H. Riemann't Ualtk-U - 
(5^ cd-, 1900; ako an En;, (rant., with addiliont, by I. S. 
kiclc)^ the American Cjclapatiit if Umit aid Uustcans ( 
1*111)^ Ml the O e/W Hinary c{ lluik (igoi-i^oj}. Theliic: 

ADItSiS!'n!rary.*c.^!'Ehrlkh^Oi» UaiitABll^a in 
Eatmutdmnf tm Aditf Mr 01^ die Gttatvart (Leipiig. i^- 
HamTzk, Til Btauifnl in Uuiu (London, Itet): R. Wallii 
  -  Tmkunsl (Stutlpio. I»S6); R. flohl, DU Hilu 
-'- " ■-•■-• — (Leipiig. ■'"•■ * •^'- — 



US'ftiPfc,! 



■-'-. iw);"m- L. ""chAu'hii^. rSmu dtrWail'n- 
..':' f.(rjColD(ne. 1896I; Sir J. F, B.uife and F. J. 

I'.n. I»^); DikMi Cinuuapnni sad Canon (Lnndon, 
ui.if Fonn (London, ISgj): Appliti Fumt jLondon, 
Uidmann. Dii lUn^n Terwitn irr Muit (Leijnig, 
J.Klatwhn. Dii F-imtt I'a Jn Wrrlrm itr Ttmlmit 
oO , M. Steinilar, FtydalotiKhi Wirknitni dir ■miit- 
■r;,i IMunich, IBS]); }. Combaijcu. rUcrUdn rt>U<» 




Ninli, Jld Mutigut di 
fd Ubsiijtti dam la Sitme rffmana* ^19001; a. 

-""i. Humph'rii" 'n? Bnlxlun »/ Ctant 
, 189SI; E. L. Taunton, HirBry ^ C*«t' "-'- 
A. Mory'- "- ■— '- '■--'■ 

( VedM™ i£> ;"&■.' F^i 



 •9S)i 



PaltUrina it la ru 

iie^intnCsto^m^fSchlowIf. 1893). 
""'" ■" ' '"" "■" rate aniclet or 



I Cti 






York.' im,)', A. I. Hipkina 
mi Umimu (Edinburgh. 1: 
VuiDif 7iutniMflUi and U 



if _..„. 

■HMidt MuteM (Paria, lS86t! H. Boddinnon, CaUltrm •! Utaical 
Imilnmtnu idwInlM at tte ffiilBry of Ok Piaa^tru JMaiKhHIer 
iSM): M. E. Blown, J^wtcof InmumaU and /Mr Htma (New 
' -■- -"" ' ', Hinkina, Uiuical Imlrtmtna: Hiiltric, Rart 
ISU)! W. Lynd, AcaunI ef Awiinl 

,_„„,. .r;,:r:;r:.:;::.iK'j; 

I (Cm, ISOJ); E. Tnvcn, Ln Inslnmmlt dt 

»&.(IV^  

/■di"7London.' 'mi}~a7G^SAn.. , 

SIrintrd Umical Imlmmmli (iS97)i J- Ruthl- 

Dii GiKliitUi iir BnrninilrnmlnU (Bcaiuwiek. 1S81); 

F. di CafFarelli, Gli SIrtmnii alum t la mniia da cammt (Milan. 
iBull Kathleen Scbleilnger. /utn»K«> i>r(»( (^teurd (1910). 

Cmdncftaf.— W. R. Wtcnet. On Condnclint {Londnn. iKKit: 
M. Kiriferalli, LV ' ' ' --'-.- 



BIttrtfty, .. .- 

iifB4): F. C]£menl, £ej (f r«^ Miuicm 
Tti Crtat Ctmtettn (London. ISST)! 
Ccmpeun: SlrC. K. H. Parry, ^iditt 
tiifU A. A. Emouf, CampanUnn . 
Bennaiil-Deiplantet, Let Mutieitni 
A. Haunednjcbe. La Unnciem a , 



. (Parit. 1 
C. T. Ft 



F. W«n- 

BSi) ; C. E^ko'iiriw. 



MUSICAL-BOX— MUSICAL NOTATION 



ipoMtrt (London, iSoi) 

ampaitrs tti Uuir Vnrti (Boilon. 1803-1893)^ E. ?o\ka 

_T TaittumU (Winbidcn. 1897); R. f. Slurp, Maiiri a^ 

lie (LoiHlaii. 1S98I ; L. Nuhl. lioiai* DnkiUiiu au ilni ^J<n 

luxur, 1/ Umitiaiu (Ntw York. looo): M. Chirln. i^icxdi 
lu T^ndickltr (Lspiii, laU); A. JulUcn, ifiukinu il'aii>iuir*> 



MDIICAL-BOX. 1] 
an eUboniian a( tl 






ulid it«l back of ihe comb. Tbc l«lb (it gridi 
from end to end o( ibe comb or pliie, the lonier 11 
deeper nolet; and Ihe individual leeth ut iccur 
where necessary, by RLing or Loi<I[n| wiih leid. 
ilone in ihe scale it rrptMenied by ihr« or 



teelh in Ihe comb, 



tofiu 



le when required by ih 
musical vibrations produced by Ihe rev< 
iiudded wiih projecting pins, wbich. ns 



iiion ol  biass lylinde 
bey move round, iiin 
rrvili according to ik 
n oi the cylinder com 



:h the ippnaius is set, but upon Ibe s* 

nierted pins loi peHorming u many 

This ii accomplished by making b 



Lo bring ar 



irely di 



n very fii 
the position of the cylinder a 



a the cylinders are removable, 
and may be repbced by olheis containing distinct sets of music. 
In these also there are combinalioos o[ bell, drum, cymbal and 
triangle effects. &c. The revolving motion of the cylinder is 
effected by 1 spring and ciock-work which on some modern inslru- 
mcnla will work conlinuousiy for an hour and a hall without 
winding, and the rate of revolution ii regulated by a fly regulator. 
The headquiners ol the musical-boa trade is Geneva, where the 
inannfaclure gives employment to thousands of peisoni. 



an of ihcnliB 



'w divr>-.-. of 
of Ihe If^tlh 

•a of the oins 



«urb^«'«-nB",'b°IK:"i 



'SeeS.deCaui.iJi/dKUM. 



lochiie Di the biml o 



'™r,i'''°'"'°'"°° 



; aodiriickBaaMLOaoui. 



■(iTfr 



An -umeTiIs MR tKiiw BradcialTy replaced if 

■USICAL ilOTATIOH. 1 pictorial method c 
sounds to the ear through the medium of Ihe eye. It ii probable 

The eaact nature of the Greek notation is a subject of dispute, 
dillerent explanations auigning ifrSo, 1610, Qge, or ijS signals 
to their alphabetical method of delineation. To Boelhius we 

Ihe Latins, although it Is not certain whether he was the Hist 
to apply Ihe fifteen letters of Ihe Roman alphsbel to the scale 
of sounds included within Ihe two ociaves, or whether he was 
only the first 10 make record of Ihat application. The reduction 
of the scale 10 the octave is ascribed 10 St Gregory, as also the 



n based, not on the alphabet, 
curves, dots and strokes are 
I century, while specimens in i 



found t< 



The origin of these signs, 
known as neuma (HCyiarE, or oodi), is Ibe full stop (^iiaiii). 
Ihe comma (n'rii), and Ihe mound or undulating line (cJiwi), 
Ihe first indicating a short sound, the second a long sound, and 
the third a group of two notes. The musical intervals were 
suggested by the distance of these signals from the words of the 

Ihe fluctuations due to handwriting, have made Ibem eatremcly 
difficult to decipher. In Ihe lOth century a marked advance 
is shown by Ihe use of a led line triced haiiionlally above the 
leit 10 give the singer a Gttd note (F-la), thus helping him to 
approtinule Ibe Iniervals. To this nu added a second line in 
yellow (for C-ui), and finally 1 staS arose ftom ihe further 
these. TTie diiBculIy o" 









i fact Ihal I 



or less representing atlempis in the direction ol the modern 
system. A variety of etperimenta resulted in the asaignment 
of the four-lined staff to sacred music and ot Ihe five-lined uaff 
10 secular music. The yellow and rod colours were replaced 
by the use of the letters 



a staff of Ibrr 



is fon 



Tithe Ii 



ol 



imoua nymn 10 St John, printed with IKuntes on 

clefs has survived to Ihe present day, our clef 

i| modified forms of Ihe lellers C, F and C which 

passed through ^   - - - - - 



ol a 



g the . 



imponent parts of a 
piece of music). It is at the time of Franco of Cobgne  Ihat 
BietauRd music takes its rise, together wiih Ibe bUck notation 
in place of neumts. which disappeared altogether by the end of 
the 14th century. Writing four hundred yeau after Si Giegoty. 
Coltonius complains bitterly of the delects in the system of 
neumes: "The tame marks which Master Trudo sang as 
thirds, were sung as lourths by Master Albinui; while Uaster 
Salgmo asserts that fifths aie the notes meant, so at Ian there 

sibly Ihe iTCklesa multiplication of lines in the staff may have 

In the black notation, which led to the modern sysiem, the 

square note with a tail H) is the long sound; the square note 

 The principles of Franco are found ia Ibe trealiiei f4 Waher 

Odinglon. a monk of Eveabam who became archbiabop ol C4iit<iii>ury 



MUSIC HALLS 



87 



vitboat  UO (•) it the intt; ud tbc laaage ibapc (f) n the 
Hm i inm. Id a Ulet devdoiHiient there hr added Ibe intU 
Jnf^iBd the mimun (|D- Hw bnvt, accordini to Franco of 
Cologne, «u tbc unit of meisin. The devtlopmcDt of  
tiaie diriiKHi wu further contmued by Pfailippe de VEtTn 
bit been noted vith TeU-founded utoniihrnent that at thii 
the doubk time {ij. two to the bar) wu unknown, in tp 
tiib btiiig tlie time used in marching and also iUutrated i 
ptMOS (M hRMhins- Triple time {ij. tbiee to the bai) wai 
Rgankd as the tnoat perfect because i1 waa indivisible. It was 
a$ il there lay some rayiterioua endunlment in a number that 
(imtij Ewt he divided into equal portiooi without tbc fraction, 
"THpletioK, "say* Jean deMuris,"is(alIed^/«f, according 

Inxa the Biased Trinity which is pure and true perfectioa." 
Vitry champuoed the ri^ti of imperfect time and invented 
signa to djatinguish the two. The perfect circle O represented 
the perfect or triple time; Ihe ball circle C tbe imperfect 01 
doable-tinic. This C has lurvived in modem notation to 
indicate fouT-time, which il twice dauble-timci when crossed l[ 
it meana double-lime. The method of dividing into perfect 
and imperfect wai demflled as pitlaiiin. The addition ol a 
point to tbe drcle gr tcmi-drtle (O C ) indicated major pro- 
Utioti; its absence, minor piolilion. The substitution of 
' IT black notation began wiib the fint year of the 14th 



nnlury and w 

It has already been shown bow the e 
DMatioD was gradually tupeneded by one based on tJ 
to represent Ihe relative height ajid depth of sounds 
The al|riubelical nomenclstun. however, became ii 
anodated with the piciorUl lyiicm. The two c 
teinfofced each other; uid from the heaachordal scalt 



if alphabetic 



lelhei 



ne to faU in (he 
is between 



igbl pUcc — which in the case of ail heaachords 
he third and louilh notea. This soltcned B waa written in a 
sanded form thus: 'r {'MuitdHm), while the original B remained 
qoare thna: b {^uadrum). The original concrption of the sharp 
Tit to oooa or lattice the square B, by which il waa shown th^L 
. was neither to be wllened nor to remain unchanged. The 
a. which originated in the lolh century, appears to have been 
\ far cajiier date than the sharp, the invention of which has 
ten ascribed to Jwquin Dn Prb liiso-ijii}. The B^harp 
a called B aaitUalam, the cross being formed thus ^. The 
se oi key sigiutum coittttucted out of these ugna of sharp uai 
It «H of coDipuatively late introduction. The key signature 



which it 






'otrr 






It is 



litsh occasion oE their occurring. Tbe eiacl distinction between 
what wen accidental sharps or flats, and what were sharps or 
hts in the key, was sliU undeti^Tmined in the time of Handel, 
■ho wrote Ihe Suite in £ containing the " Harmonious Black- 
EDilb " with three sharps instead ol lour. The dnubLe tii [some- 
tinvi written & or ^) and the dtnible sharp X (sometimes 
writtoi yf.-jf^ of ^) ue conveniitmi of a much later date, 
aSid into nistmce by tbe tlnnwkds of modem muiic, while 
tbe agn of natutal (Ij 13 the outcome ol the origiiul B quadn- 

Tk lynems known aa Tonic 5d Fa knd Ibe Cilin-Faris- 
Chevi aictbods do not belong to the Mibject o( notation, as Ibey 
•n ingeidm mechanical substitutes for the eapcri mcnia 11/ devel- 
oped lyneim analysed above. The basis ik these sutnlilutes 
iitbe refcieoee of all notes to key tdalioiiahip and not 10 pilch, 

waifcsir (Paris. rSti); H. Ricmanii. WMnutrift mul KaUnJimk 
(il^);CF.Abdy Williams, Tjki AsryiifffMsniHi (lyoj): Robert 



Ecnri. Fl'(,(.J.Jf^i„ dr- Ku-:t S^mm^wflu itt 16, mmi ij. Jair. 

kif.i'ri^ iT. rlLii. I '■77 1; l-:j,iEfiLh Chrynnda-, " Abriio einer 
O.. r.Ahr. ,1.. M,i-,k<l:i.' k'^^>1,. j 4,-r9, Jahih.." .Ill|«uia( sihijI- 
ali- (. /-r'.-.r 1 1.-,; ,-:■, N.i. l(-l6J; W. H.Tams Weale, 

U (London, I«86); W. BarcUy 

Sq inticg," m the Znlukrifl hUio- 

1" . 1896); Grave's DiO. al ifuu. 

i;!."Mi. i:'.L!,. y theatre" or "music-hall" 

of to-day developed out of the " saloon theatrea " which eiisied 
in London about 1S30-1S40; Ihcy owed their form and existence 
to Ibe r««tlclive action of the " patent " theatres at that lime. 
These tbeatra hid tbe exclusive right nf representing what wis 
bifiadly called the " legitimate drama," which ranged from 
Shakeqieare to Honk Lewis, and from Sheridan and Goldsmith 
to Kotiehue and Aldfrman Birch ol Comhill, dtixen and poet, 
and tlie lounder of tlw tunle-M>iip trade. The patent house* 
defended their rights when they were attacked by the " minor " 
and " saloon " theatres, but tliey often acted in tbe spirit of 
the dog in the manger. While they pursued up to fine and 
even Imprisonment the poachers on thtdr dramatic preserves, 
they too often neglected the " k^ritnate drama " for tbe 
supposed meretricious attractionB offered by their illegitimile 
competitors. The British theatre graviuted naturally to tbe 
inn or uvem. The tavern was the source ol life and heal, and 
warmed all sadal gathering The itm galleries oSered ntbet 
Tou^ stages, before the Shak es peare and AUeyn pbybouscs 
were bvill. The inn yards were often made as comfortable as 
possible for tbe"gTouTidlingB"by layers of straw, but the tavern 
chaianer ol tbe audiiorium was never concealed. Excisable 
liquor was always obtainable, and the superior members of the 
audience, who chose to pay for seats at tlie side of the stage or 
platform (like the " avant -seine " boies at a Parisian theatre), 
were allowed to smoke Raleigh's Virginian weed, then a novel 
luiury. This was, of course, the fini germ of a " smaklng- 

WhUc the drama progressed a* a recogniitd public entcrtaiiv- 
ment in England, and was provided with its own buildings in Ibe 
town, or certain booths at the lairs, the Crown eictcised its 
patronage in favour ol certain individuals, giving them power 
to set up playhouses at any time in any parts of London and 
Westminster. The first and most important grant waa made by 
Charles It. to bis " trusty and well-beloved " Thomas Killigrew 
" and Sir William Davenant." This was a personal grant, not 

in theatrical history as the " Killigrew and Davenant patent." 
Killigrew WBS the author «( several unsuccessful plays, and Sh' 
William Davenant, said to be an illegitimate child ol WUIian 
Shiknpeait, was a stage manager ol great daring and genius- 
Charles II. had strong Iheatiical leanings, and had helped la 
arrange the court balleu at VersaUles Inr Louis XIV. Tbe 
Killigrew and Davenant patent in course of lime descended, 
after a fashion, to the Theatm Royal, Covent Garden and Dniry 
Lane, snd was and still is the chid legal authority governing 
these tbeatrej. Tbe " minor " and outlying playhouses were 
carried on under the Music and Dancing Act ol George II.. and 
the annual licences were granted by Ihe local msgisltales. 

The thealre proper having emancipated itself from Ibe inn n 
tavern, il was now Ihe lum of the inn or tsvem to develop Into 
an independent place of amusement, and 10 lay ibe loundation 
ol that eDOtmous niiddle<lais and lower middle-dess inslinilion 

the most modest, humble and obscure beginning— from Ihe 
public-house bar-pariour, and its weekly " sing-songs," chiefly 
supported by voluntary talent from the "harmonic meetings" 
of Ihe " long-room " upslaiis. generally used as a Foresters' or 
Masonic club-room, where one or two profes^nal singers were 
engaged and a regular chairman was appointed. 10 Ihe " assem- 



u the first to show 1 



88 



MUSIC HALLS 



ambition, and to erect in some portion of its limited but leafy 
grounds a lath-and-plaster stage large enough for about eight 
people to move upon without incurring the danger of falling 
off into the adjoining fish pond and fountain. A few classical 
statues in plaster, always slijghtly mutilated, gave an educational 
tone to the place, and with a few coloured oil-lamps hung amongst 
the bushes the proprietor felt he had gone as near the " Royal 
Vauzhall Gardens *' as possible for the small charge of a sixpenny 
refreshment ticket, lliere were d^recs of quality, of course, 
amongst these places, which answered to the German beer- 
gardens, though with inferior music. The Beulah Spa at 
Norwood, the White Conduit House at Pentonville, the York- 
^shire Stingo in the Marylebone Road, the Monster at Pimlico, 
the St Helena at Rotherhithe, the Globe at Mile End, the Red 
Cow at Dalston, the Highbury Bam at Highbury, the Manor 
House at Mare Street, Hackney, the Rosemary Branch at 
Hoxton, and other rus-in-urbe retreats, were up to the level of 
their time, if rarely beyond it. 

The suspended animation of the law — the one Georgian act, 
which was mainly passed to check the singing of Jacobite songs 
in the tap-rooms and tea-gardens of the Uttle London of 1730, 
when the whole population of the United Kingdom was only 
about six millions— encouraged the growth eventually of a 
number of "saloon theatres" in various London districts, 
which were allowed under the head of "Music and Dancing" 
to go as far on the light dramatic road as the patent theatres 
thought proper to permit. The 25 Geo. 11. c 36, which in later 
days was still the only act under which the music halls of forty 
millions and more of people were licensed, was always liberally 
interpreted, as long as it kept dear of politics. 

The " saloon theatres," always being taverns or attached to 
taverns, created a public who liked to mix its dramatic amuse- 
ments with smoking and light refreshments. The prindpal 
" saloons " were the Effingham in the Whitechapd Road, the 
Bower in the Lower Marsh, Lambeth, the Albert at Islington, 
the- Britannia at Hoxton, the Grecian in the City Road, the 
Union in Shoreditch, the Stingo at Paddington and several 
others of less importance. All these places had good com- 
panies, especiaUy in the winter, and many of them nourished 
leading actors of exceptional merit. The dramas were chiefly 
rough adaptations from the contemporary French stage, 
occasionally flying as high as Alexandre Dumas the elder and 
Victor Hugo. Actors of real tragic power lived, worked and 
died in this confined area. Some went to America, and acquired 
fame and fortune; and among others, Frederick Robson, who 
was trained at the Grecian, first when it was the leading 
saloon theatre and afterwards when it became the leading music 
hall (a distinction with little diffeFence), fought his way to the 
front after the abolition of the " patent rights " and was accepted 
as the greatest tragi-comic actor of his time. The Gredan 
saloon theatre, better known perhaps, with its pleasure garden 
or yard, as the Eagle Tavern, City Road, which formed the 
material of one of Charles Dickens's Sketches by Bm^ was a place 
managed with much taste, enterprise and discretion "by its pro- 
prietor, Mr Rouse. It was the " saloon " where the one and only 
attempt, with limited means, was ever made to import almost 
all the original repertory of the Op^ra Comique in Paris, with the 
result that many musical works were presented to a sixpenny 
audience that had never been heard before nor since in England. 
Auber, Harold, Adolphe Adam, Boieldieu, Gr^try, Donizetti, 
Bellini, Rossini and a host of others gave some sort of advanced 
musical education, through the Grecian, to a rather depressing 
part of London, long before board schools were established. 
The saloon theatres rarely offended the patent houses, and when 
they did the law was soon put in motion to show that Shake- 
speare could not be represented with impunity. The Union 
Saloon in Shoreditch, then under the direction of Mr Samuel 
Lane, who afterwards, with his wife, Mrs Sara Lane, at the 
Britannia Saloon, became the leading local theatrical manager 
of his day, was tempted in 1S34 to give a performance of O^Jbd/o. 
It was " raided " by the then rather " new police," and all the 
actors, servants, audience, directors and musicians were taken 



into custody and marched off to Worship Street poh'ce station, 
confined for the remainder of the night, and fined and warned 
in the morning. The same and only law still exists for those 
who are hdping to keep a " disorderly house," but there are no 
holders of exdusive dramatic patent rights to set it in motion. 
The abolition of this privileged monopoly was effected about this 
time by a combination of distinguished literary men and drama- 
tists, who were convinced, from observation and experience, that 
the patent theatres had failed to nurse the higher drama, while 
interfering with the benefidal freedom of public amusements. 

The effect of Covent Garden and Drury Lane on the art of 
acting had resulted chiefly in limiting the market for theatrical 
employment, with a consequent all-round reduction of salaries. 
They kept the Lyceum Theatre (or English Opera House) for 
years in the position of a music hall, giving sometimes two 
performances a m'ght, like a " gaff " in the New Cut or Whitc- 
chapeL They had not destroyed the "star" system, and 
Edmund Kean and the boy Betty— the " Infant Roscius " — 
were able to command sensational rewards. In the end Charles 
Dickens, Sir Edward Bidwer-Lytton, Sir Thonuis Noon Talfourd 
and others got the patents abolished, and the first step towards 
free trade in the drama was secured. 

The effect of this change was to draw attention to the " saloon 
theatres," where during the performances smoking, drinking, 
and even eating were allowed in the auditorium. An act was 
soon passed, known as the Theatres Act (1843), appointing a 
censor of stage-plays, and placing the London theatres under 
the control of a Crown officer, changing with ministries. This 
was the lord chambwlain for the time bdng. The lord chamber- 
lain of this period drew a hard-and-fast line between theatres 
under his control, where no smoking and drinking were allowed 
" in front," and theatres or halls where the old habits and distoins 
of the audience were not to be interfered with. These latter 
were to go under the jurisdiction of the local magistrates, 
or other licensing authorities, under the 95 Geo. 11. c. 36 — the 
Music and Dancing Act — and so far a divorce was decreed 
between the taverns and the playhouses. The lord chamberlain 
eventually made certain concessions. Refreshment bars were 
allowed at the lord chamberlain's theatres in unobstrusive 
positions, victualled under a special act of William IV., and 
private smoking-rooms were allowed at most theatres on appli- 
cation. AU this implied that stage plays were to be kept free 
from open smoking and drinking, and miscellaneous entertain- 
ments were to enjoy their old social freedom. The position was 
accepted by those " saloon theatres " which were not tempted 
to become lord chamberlain houses, and the others, with many 
additions, started the first music halls. 

Amongst the first of these halls, and certainly the very first 
as far as intelligent management was concerned, was the Can- 
terbury in the Lower Marsh, Lambeth, which was next door 
to the old Bower Saloon, then transformed into a " minor 
theatre." The Canterbury sprang from the usual tavern 
germ, its creator being Mr Charles Morton, who honourably 
earned the name of the " doyen of the music halls." It justified 
its title by cultivating the best class of music, and exposed the 
prejudice and unfairness of Planchd's sarcasm in a Haymarket 
burlesque — " most music hall — most melancholy." Mr Charles 
Morton added pictorial art to his other attractions, and obtained 
the support of Punchy which stamped the Canterbury as the 
" Roysil Academy over the water." At this time by a mere 
accident Gounod's great opera of Paust, through defective inter- 
national registration, fell into the public domain in England and 
became common property. The Canterbury, not daring., 
to present it with scenery, costumes and action, for fear of Uie 
Stage-play Act, gave what was called " An Operatic Selection,*" 
the singers standing in plain dresses in a row, like pupils at a. 
school examination or a chorus in an oratorio at Exeter HalK 
The music was well rendered by a thoroughly competent cx>ni~ 
pany, night after night, for a long period, so that by the time 
the opera attracted the tardy attention of the two principal 
open managers at Her Majesty's Theatre in the Haymarket 
and Covent Garden Theatre, the tunes most popular were bein^ 



MUSIC HALLS 



89 



by tbe " mm lia the street," the " boy in the gutter *' 
§ad the tradmaan waiting at the door for orders. 

With the Canterbnxy Hall, and its brother the Oxford 
in Oxford Street — a converted inn and coaching yard — ^built 
and managed on the same lines by Mr Charles Morton, the 
music haUs were well started. They had imitators in every 
directioo-— some large, some small, and some with architectural 
pretensions, but all anxious to attract the public by cheap 
prices az»l physical comforts not attainable at any of the 
regular theatres. 

With the growth and improvement of these " Halls," the few 
<^ ceQar "singing-rooms" gradually disappeared. Evans's 
in Covent Garden was the last to go. Rhodes's, or the 
Cyder Cellaxs in Maiden Lane, at the back of the Adelphi 
Theatre; the Coal Hole, in the Strand, which now forms 
the sate of Terry's Theatre; the Doctor Johnson, in Fleet 
Street (oddly enough, within the precincts of the City of London) 
disappeared one by one, and with them the compound material 
for Thackeray's picture of "The Cave of Harmony." This 
"Cave," like Dickens's "Old Curiosity Shop," was drawn 
from the fouures of many places. To do the " cellars " a little 
jastke, they represented the manners of a past time — heavy 
sappers and heavy drinks, and the freedom of their songs and 
redtations was partly due to the fact that the audience and 
the actors were alurays composed of men. Thackeray clung 
to Evans's to the last. It was his m'ghtly "chapel of 
case " to the adjoining Garrick Club. In its old age it became 
decent, and ladies were admitted to a private gallery, behind 
acreess and a convent grille. Before its death, and its revival 
in another form as a sporting club, it admitted ladies both on 
and off the stage, and became an ordinary music halL 

Tbe rise and progress of the London music halls naturally 
excited a good deal of attention and jealousy on the part of 
the regular theatres, and 'this was increased when the first 
Great Variety Theatre was opened in Leicester Square. 
The building was the fihest example of Moorish architec- 
ture oa a large scale ever erected in England. It was burnt 
down in tbe ' duties, and the present theatre was built in 
its place. Originally it was " The Panopticon," a palace of 
"recreative science," started under the roost distinguished 
directioQ on the old polytechnic institution lines, and with 
ample capital. It was a commercial failure, and after being 
tried as an " American Circus," it was turned into a great 
variety theatre, the greatest of its kind in Europe, under the 
name of tbe Alhambra Palace. Its founder was Mr E.T. Smith, 
tbe e u e iget ic theatrical manager, and its developer was Mr 
Frederick Strange, who came full of spirit and money from 
the Crystal Palace. He produced in 2865 an ambitious ballet — 
the Dagger Ballet from Auber's EnJatU prodigue^ which had 
been seen at Drury Lane Theatre in 1851, translated as " AzaSl." 

The Alhambra was prosecuted in the superior courts for 
iafrinpng the Stage-play Act — the 6 & 7 Vict. c. 68. The 
case is in the law reports — Wigan v. Strange\ the ostensible 
phintiflFs being the well-known actors and managers Horace 
Wigaa and Benjamin Webster, supported by J. B. Buckstone, 
aad many other theatrical managers. A long trial before 
ousent judges, with eminent counsel on both sides, produced 
a dedsMMi which was not very satisfactory, and far from final. 
It hdd that, as far as the entertainment went, according to 
the evidence tendered, it was not a ballet representing any 
i&dnct story or coherent action, but it might have been a 
" divertissement " — a term suggested in the course of the 
trial. A short time after this a pantomime scene was pro- 
dared at the same theatre, called Whereas the Police? 
which had a clown, a pantaloon, a columbine and a harlequin, 
with other familiar characters, a mob, a street and even the 
traditional red-hot poker. This inspired proceedings by the 
same (daintifis before a police magistrate at Mariborough Street, 
who inflictcxl the full penalties— £30 a performance for 12 
perlomaaaces, and costs. An appeal was made to the Wcst- 
taioster quarter sessions, supported by Serjeant Ballantine 
aad opposed by Mr Hardinge Giffard (afterwards Lord Chan- 



Cellof Halsbury), and the conviction was confirmed. Being 
heard at quarter sessions, there is no record in the law reports. 

These and other prosecutions suggested the institution of 
a parliamentary inquiry, tod a House of Commons MJect 
committee was appointed hi t866, at the instigation of the 
music halls and variety theatres. The committee devoted 
much time to the inquiry, and examined many witnesses — 
amongst the rest Lord Sydney, the lord chamberlain, who 
had no personal objection to undertake the control of these 
comparatively young places of amusement and recreation. 
Much of the evidence was directed against the Stage-play Act, 
as the difficulty appeared to be to define what was not a. stage 
play. Lord Denman, Mr Justice Byles, and other eminent 
judges seemed to think that any song, action or recitation 
that excited the emotions might be pinned as a stage-play, 
and that the old definition — " the representation of any action 
by a person (or persons) acting, and not in the form of narration " 
— could be supported in the then state of the law in any of 
the higher courts. The variety theatres on this occasion were 
encouraged by what had just occurred at the time in France. 
Napoleon III., acting under the advice of M. Michel Chevalier, 
passed a decree known as La Libcrti des tkidtref, which 
fixed the status of the Parisian and other music halls. Operet tas, 
ballets of action, ballets, vaudevilles, pantomimes and all light 
pieces were allowed, and the managers were no longer legally 
confined to songs and acrobatic performances. Tht report 
of the select committee of 1866, signed by the chairman, Mr 
(afterwards Viscount) Goschen, was in favour of granting the 
variety theatres and mtisic halls the privileges they asked for, 
which were those enjoyed In France and other countries. 

Parliamentary Interference and the introduction of several 
private bills in the House of Conunons, which came to nothing, 
checked, if they did not altogether stop, the prosecutions. The 
variety theatres advanced in every direction in number and im- 
portance. Ballets grew in splendour and coherency. Tbe lighting 
and ventilation, the comfort and decoration of the various 
"palaces" (as many of them were now called) improved, 
and the public, as usual, were the gainers. Population in- 
creased, and the six millions of 1730 became forty millions 
and more. The same and only act (35 Geo. II. c. 36), adequate 
or inadequate, still remained. London is defined as tbe 
"administrative county of London," and its area— the 
ao-miles radius — ^is mapped out. The Metropolitan Board 
of Works retired or was discharged, and the London County 
Council was created and has taken its place. The London 
County Council, with extended power over structures and 
structural alterations, acquired the licensing of variety theatres 
and music halls from the local magistrates (the Middlesex, 
Surrey, Tower Hamlets and other magistrates) within 
the administrative county of London. The L. C. C. examine 
and enlorce their powers. They have been advised that 
they can separate a music from a dancing licence if they like, 
and that when they grant the united licence the dancing 
means the dancing of paid perfonncrs on a stage, and not the 
dancing of the audience on a platform or floor, as at the short- 
lived but elegant Cremome Gardens, or an old-timfc " Casino." 
They are also advised that they can withhold licences, unless 
the applicants agree not to apply for a drink licence to the local 
magistrates sitting in brewster sessions, who still retain their 
control over the liquor trade. Theatre licences are often with- 
held unless a similar promise is made — the drink authority in 
this case being the Excise, empowered by the Act of William IV. 
(S & 6 Will. IV. c. 39, s. 7). 

The spread of so-called "sketches" — a kind of condensed 
drama or farce — in the variety theatres, and the action of the 
London County Council in trying to check the extension of 
refreshment licences to these establishments, with other grounds 
of discontent on the part of managers (individuals or " limited 
companies "), led to the appointment of a second select com- 
mittee of the House of Commons in 1892 and the production 
of another blue-book. The same ground was gone over, and 
the same objections were raised against a licensing authority 



MUSK— MUSKEGON 






c vote*, only eiiiti for three yeui 

due, ud can give no guuuitee for 
gmcoU. The conieiuui ol opinion 
(u ta toooi wu IQ iivoiir of t itate official, responiibJe to 
puliimeot— like Ihe Home Office « the Board of Trade— ihe 
pnfeimce being given to the lord chambcrUio ud hti Uaff, 
who know much (bout ibeiltt* (nd tbeslrici] btuines. The 
chaiiBun of the aunmiiut <•*) the Hon. David Pluokell (■fier- 
wudl Lord Rnthmort), and the report in apitil mt the ume 
u Ihe one of iS66. Th:e« fonni of liceoce were luggejied; 



Though the riu tad procrcM of tbe mmic htll and nriely 
thcstK interest it one of the mou otraordinuy fact* of the 
lut btlf of the i«th ttntury, the buiooi lui tiltle or no 
oHponte orgnniiatiDn, ud ihett (i luthing like a cDmplele 
Tcgiitiatioa of the vaiioiB ptopertiea throughout the Uniied 
Kingdom- In London (he " London Enleitalnmcnta Pro- 
tection Aaiocialian," wluch has the command of a weekly 
ptper failed Ebe Hunc Haii and Tkeairz Rmvm, looks 



n alone 



■I five miliioi 



aleriin; 



capital ia laid to be invested in these entoprisefl; employing 
80,000 penons of all grades, and enlettaiuing duriog the year 
about 15,000,000 people. The annual applications (or music 



MDIK (Med. LaL niui 



\uikk, fror 



aperfut. 



1, the I 



UiDedfr 



a gland by the muik-deer (.q.t.), and henc 
to oiner aniniali, and also 10 plants, poasosing a simil 
The vtliely vhich tppetn in commerce is a aecrctii 
niok-deer; but the odour ia also emitted by the mm 
musk-rat of India and Europe, by the musk-duck 
hb<Ua) of West Australia, the musk-shrew, the mi 



(Caliik. 






id by 



inimali. In the vegrlible kingdom it is preKnt 
u ttie common musk (UimiJiH maakalHi), the rausk-wood 
of the Cuianas and West Indie) (Cuatie, ipp.). and in the Keds 
of HMkhi AbcImBKkia (miuk-aeedi). To obtain the perfume 
from the musk-deer the animal is killed and the gland com- 
pklely removed, and dried, either in the sun, on a boi ttone. 
or by immersion io hot oil. It appean in commerce a> " musk 
in pod," i.l. the gUnds are entire, or as " musk in grahi," in 
whicb Ibe perfutne has been extracted from its nccptade. 
Three kinds are recognized: (1) Tong-king, Chinese or Tibetan, 
imported from China, the most valued; (j) Assam or Nepal, 
leas valuable; and (j) Kirbardinor Russian (SibcHan). imported 
from Central Asia by wiy of Ruuia. the least valuable and 
hardly admitting of aduliention. The Tong-king musk is 
ciported io imall, gaudily decorated caddies vilh tin or lead 
linings, wheram the perfume is scaled down; it Is now usually 
iiansmitled direct by parcel post to the merchant. 

Cknd musk is of a dark purpliifa colour, dry, smooth and 
unctuous to the touch, and bitter in taste. It dijMlves in 'boiling 
water to the eitent of about one-half; alcobol takes up one-third 
of the substance, and ether and chloroform dissolve still los- 
A grain ol musk will distinctly scent millions of cubic (eel o( 
air without any appredable loss of weight, and its scent is not 
only mote penetrating hut more persistent than that of any 
other known substance. In additloii to its odoriferous principle, 

substance, and other animal principles- As a material in 
perfumery it iso( the first importance, its powerful and enduring 
odour giving strength and pennanency to the vegetable essences, 
so that it is an ingredient in many compounded perfumes. 



odoiiT depends upon the r 

 DIK-DEER (t: 
of the deer family ct 



{see Deu], Both leiei are devtdd of antler appendage; 
but in this the musk-deer agrea with one genus of true deer 
(Ufdrtlapkuj), and as in the latter, the upper canint teeth ol 
the males are long and sabre-like, projecting bebw the chin, 
wiih the ends turned somewhat backwards. In size the musk- 
deer is rather less than the European roe-deer, being about 
10 in. blgh SI the ihouldet. Its limbs, eqiecially the binder 
pair, are long; and tbe (eet remarkable lor the great develop- 
ment o( the bteni pair of hoots and lor the Iteedom of m ' 




The Musk-deer [J/i 



they all present, which must be of assistance to the animal 

in steadying it in its agile bounds among the crags of its native 
haunts. The ears are large, and Ihe toil rudimentary. The 
hair covering the body is long, coarse, and d( a peculiarly 
brittle and pith-like character, breaking easily; it is generally 
of a greyish-brown colour, sometimes inclined to yeUowitb-red, 
and often variegated with lighter patches. The musk-dea 
inhabits tbe forest districii in tbe HimaUyt as far west aa 
Gilgit, always, however, at great elevatiofis — being rarely 
found in summer below Aooo It. above the sea-level, and ranging 
as high as the limits of the thickets of birch, ihododendron 
and juniper, among which it mostly conceals itself in the day- 
time. The range extends into Tibet, Siberia and Dorth- 
western China; but the musk-<]eer of Kansu has been separated 

deer arc hardy, solitary and rrtiring anitnals, chiefly tioctumal 
in habits, and almost always (ound alone, rarely in pairs and 
never in herds. They lie eiceedingly active and iun(ootei], 
having perhaps no equal in traversing rocki and precipitous 
ground; lad they (eed on moat, glass, and leaves of the [dants 

Most mammals have certain portions of the sklo vedolly 
modified and provided with gUmds lecieting odorous and fatty 
substances chancteriitic of the particular ^ledes. The special 
gland of tbe muik-deer, which has made the a ' ' 









isfou. 



d the I 



in the male only, ai 



beneath the ikm of the 
abdomen, the orifice being immediately in front of the preputial 
aperture. The secretion with which the sac is filled is dark 
brown or chochlatc In colour, and when fresh of the consistence 
of "moist gingerbread," but becoming dry and granular after 
keeping [see Mtisi). The Kansu (V, itjanUm) Men from 
the typical q>ecies in having longer ears, which an block on 
tbe outer surface. 

MDIKBOON. a dty and the county-seat of Muakegoa 
county, Michigan. U,S,A.. on Muskegon lake, an expansion 
of Muskegon river near its mouth, about 4 m. from Lake 
Michigan and jS m, M.W- of Grand Ri^ds, Pop, {1S90), 
)2,70]: (leoo). »,giB, oi whom fiijfi were foreicn-bomi 



MUSKET— MUSK-OX 



91 



(1910 census) 24,063. It 11 aervcd by the Grand Tnink, 
the Fire lAarqactte, the Grand Rapids & Indiana, and the 
Grand lUpida, Grand Haven & Muskegon (dearie) railways, 
and by steamboat lines to Qiicago, Milwaukee and other lake 
ports. There are several summer resorts in the vicinity. As 
the gifuoC Charles ILHackky (1837-1905), a rich lumberman, 
the dty has an endowment fund to the public schools of about 
tijoeofioot a manual training school, which has an endowment 
of t6o<\ooo, and is one of the few endowed public schoob in 
the United States; a public libr^, with an endowment of 
fa75/)oo; a puUic hoqutal with a $600,000 endowment; and 
a poor fund endowment of $300,000. In Hackley Park there 
are statues of Lincoln and Farragut, and at the Hackley School 
thcfc is a statue of McKinley; all three are by C. H. Niehaus. 
The mimidpality oWns and operates its water-works. Muskegon 
lake is 5 m. long and i| m. wide, with a depth of 30 to 40 ft., 
and is ice-free throughout the year. The channel from Muskegon 
lake to Lake Michigan has been improved to a depth of 20 ft. 
and a width of 300 ft. by the Federal government since 1867. 
From Mnskfgrm are shipped huge quantities d lumber and 
market-garden produce, besides the numerous manufactures 
of the dty. The total value of all factory products in 1904 
«as $6419^441 (39*6% more than in 1900), of which more 
than one-sixth was the value of lumber. A trading post was 
fftahlfshffd here in 18x2, but a permanent settlement was 
not established until 1834. Muskegon was laid out as a town 
in i849» incorporated as a village in x86i, and chartered as a 
city in 1869. The name is probably derived from a Chippewa 
word, maxktg or muskegs meaning "grassy bog/' still used in 
th at sense in imth-westem America. 

MUSKKT (Fr. mousqvA, Ger. litukde, &c), the term generally 
aiqilied to the firearm of the infantry soldier from about 1550 
up to and even beyond the univenal adoption of rifled small 
arms about x85o-i86a The word originally signified a male 
iparrowbawk Italian nuucketio, derived perhaps ultimately 
&Dm Latin mmsea, a fly) and its application to the weapon may 
be eqrfained by the practice of naming firearms after birds 
and beasts (d. falom, basilisk). Strictly speaking, the word 
B inapplicable both to the early hand-guns and to the arquebuses 
and calxvers that superseded the hand-guns. The " musket " 
proper, introduced into the Spanish army by the duke of Alva, 
was mocfa heavier and more powerful than the arquebus. Its 
bullet retained auflident striking energy to stop a horse at 500 
and 600 3rards from the muzzle. A writer in 1598 (quoted 
<JL in the New En^isk Dictionary) goes so far as to say 
thai '* One good musket may be accounted for two callivers." 
Unlike the arquebus, it was fired from a rest, which the 
** sosketecr " stuck into the ground in front of him. But 
daring the 17th century the musket in use was so far improved 
that the rest could be dispensed with (see Gun). The musket 
was a matchlock, weapons with other forms of lock being 
dktiagatthed as wheel-locks, firelocks, snaphances, ftc., and 
sddiers were similarly distinguished as musketeers and fu^ers. 
Ob the disuse, about 1690-X695, of this form of firing mechanism, 
the term " musket " was, in France at least, for a time discon- 
tinued in &vour kA " fu^," or flint-lock, which thenceforward 
reigned snpfcme up to the introduction of a practicable per- 
onsioD kxk about x83o-i84a But the term "musket" 
s ui v iv cd the thing it originally represented, and was currently 
used for the firdock (and afterwards for the percusaon weapon). 
To-day it is generically used for military firearms anterior to 
the modem rifle. The original meaning of the word musketry 
has remained almost unaltered since x6oo; it signifies the fire of 
infantry smaD-arms (though for this " rifle fire " is now a far 
more usual term) and in particular the art of using them 
(see IxraifTEr and Rifle). Of the derivatives, the only one 
that is not aelf-ezplanatory b muiketoon. This was a short, 
tkigt '-b u e e miaket somewhat of the blunderbuss type. originaUy 
drjgnrd for the use of cavalry, but afterwards, in the x8th 
ce ntBTf , chiefly a domestic or coachman's weapon. 

MOSKBOGBAlf STOCK, a North American Indian stock. The 
is fium that of the chief tribe of the Creek confederacy, 



the Muskogee. It bdudes the Creeks, Chocuws, Chickasaws, 
Seminoles and other tribes. Its territory was almost the 
whole sute of Mississippi, western Teimessee. eastern Kentucky, 
AUbama, most of Georgia, and later nearly all Florida. Musk- 
hogean traditions aangn the west and north-west as the original 
home of the stock. Its history begins in 1537, on the first 
landing of the Spaniards on the Gulf Coast. The Muskhogean 
peoples were then settled agriculturists with an eUborate social 
organization, and living in villages, many of which were fortified 
(see Indians: Norik American), 

MUSKOOEB, a dty and the county-seat of Muskogtt county, 
Oklahoma, U.S.A., about 3 m. W. by S. of the confluence of the 
Verdigris, Neosho (or Grand) and Arkansas rivers, and about 
130 m. E.N.E. of Oklahoma City. Pop. (1900), 4x54; (1907), 
14,418, of whom 4398 were negroes and 332 Indians; (19x0). a5,a78. 
It is served by the St Louis & San Frandsoo, the Midland 
Valley, the Missouri, Kansas & Texas, and the Missouri, 
ddahooui & Gulf railways. Fort Gibson (pop. in 19x0. 1344), 
about 5 m. N.E. on the Neosho, near its confluence with the 
Arkansas, is the head of steam-boat navigation of the 
Arkansas; if is the site of a former government fort and of a 
national cemetery. Muskogee is the seat of Spaulding Institute 
(M.E. Church, South) and Nazareth InsUtute (Roman Catholic), 
and at Bacone, about 2 m. north-east, is Indian University 
(Baptist, opened 1884). Muskogee is the commercial centre of 
an agricultural and stock-raising region, is surrounded by 
an oil and natural gas field of considerable extent producing 
a high grade of petroleum, and has a large oil refinery, railway 
shops (of the Midland VaJley ^d the Missouri, Oklahoma & 
Gulf railways), cotton gins, cotton compresses, and cotton-seed 
oil and flour miUs. libe munidpality owns and operates the 
water-works, the water sui^ly being drawn from the Neosho 
river. Muskogee was founded about 1870, and became the 
chief town of the Creek Nation (Muskogee) and the metropolis 
and administrative centre of the former Indian Territory, 
being the headquarters of the Union Indian Agency to the 
Five Civilized Tribes, of the United States (Dawes) Commission 
to the Five Civilized Tribes, and of a Federal land office for 
the allotment of lands to the Creeks and Cherokecs, and the 
seat of a Federal Court. The dty was chartered in 1898; its 
area was enlarged in 1908, increaung its population. 

MUSK-OX* also kxiown as musk-buffalo and mu^-sheep, 
an Arctic American ruminant of the family Bovidae {q.v.), 
now rq>resenting a genus and sub-family by itself. Apparently 
the musk-ox {Qvihos mosckatus) has little or no near relaflon- 
ship to dther the oxen or the sheep; and it is not improbable 
that its affinities are with the Asiatic takin {Budorcas) and the 
extinct Eurc^>ean Crictkerium of the Pliocene of Samoa. The 
musky odour from which the animal takes its name does not 
appear to be due to the secretion of any gland. 

In height a bull musk-ox stands about 5 ft. at the shoulder. 
The head is large and broad. The horns in old males have 
extremdy broad bases, meeting in the middle line, and covering 
the brow and crown of the bead. They are directed at first 
downwards by the side of the face, and then turn upwards 
and forwards, ending in the same plane as the eye. The basal 
half is dull white, oval in section and coarsdy fibrous, the middle 
part smooth, shining atad round, and the tip black. In females 
and young nudes the horns are smaller, and their bases separated 
by a space in the middle of the forehead. The ears are small, 
erect, pointed, and nearly concealed in the hair.- The space 
between the nostrils and the uppn" Kp is covered with diort 
dose hair, as in sheep and goats, without any trace of the bare 
muzzle of oxen. The greater part of the animal is covered with 
long brown hair, thick, matted and curly on the shoulders, 
so as to give the appearance of a hump, but elsewhere straight 
and hanging down — that of the sides, back and haunches 
reaching as far as the middle of the legs and entirely concealing 
the very short tail There is also a thick woolly under-fur, 
shed in summer, when the whole coat comes off in blanket-like 
masses. The hair on the lower jaw, throat and chest is long 
and straight, and hangs down like a beard or dewlap, though 



92 



MUSK-RAT 



Ihen ii IN looK IMol akin k 



ituuion. The Urabs ire 
out uid short, (CTmimling id uniy mroetrial hools, Ibe utcnul 
ling nHiDdcd, Uie intcriul painted, snd ibe »^ puttally 
vend vilh hair. 




Tbt Muik-oi lOnlkii nuiiAiUiu) 
Nonbwsrd* ■«! eutvirdi ii citcndt through ibe Pury 
Isludl ind GrinDcU Idnd to north Cmoland, ruching on 
the wed cout u In south u MelviUc Bay; and it ilu occurs 
*l Slbinc Iilud on Ihe cut cout. The Crcesland animal ii 
m. wardi], diatinguished by *hitc hair on 



the forehu 
Land lorm 



Lt the 01 



ice. As proved by tlw diicovery of ft 
angcd duHag the Pleistocene period over 
nonbem Sihcria and the plaina of Cermapy and Fnnce, their 
bona occurring in liver-dcposiu along wilb (hose of the rein- 
deer, mammoth, and woolly rfainoccRn. Tbiy have al» been 
found in Pleistocene gravels in Kveral parti of England, ai 
Maidenhead, Bromley, FrahGcld near Bith, Bamwood near 
Gloucester, and in Ihe bridt-eanh of the Thamci valley at Cray- 
ford, Kent; while their remains aJso occur In Arctic America. 

Muik-oten are gregarious in habit, aisefflblinc in berdi of 
titenly or thirty head, or uraetimcs eigbly or a hundred, in 
which there are aeldoiii more than t*o or three lull-grown 
miles. They run wiih considerable q>ccd, notwithstanding 
the ihortncu of thdr legs. They feed chiefly on grass, but 
also on mois, bcbena and tender ^loots of the willow and pine. 
The female brinp forth one young in the end of May or begin- 
ning of June, after a gotalion of nme months. The Swedish 
ei[xdilion to Greenland in 1S99 found musk-oien in herds 
of varying lize — some contained only a lew individuals, and 
in one case there were liaiy-seven. The peculiar musliy odour 
waa perceived from a distance of a hundred yards; but accord- 
ing 10 Professor Natbont there was do musky taste or smell in 
' ' if the carcase were cleaned iminedialely Ihe animals 




lie much imatler and iboitef hom-cores, witich are widely tcp^r- 
Licd in the middle line of the akuli. where (here b a BTHtve-like 
teprewon ninning ihe whole length of the forehead. "Ttix ncketi 
if the eyti are al» much leu prombient, and the whole fore-part of 
he ikull ii proporliooately lonier. On account of ihnc and other 

ltd in vol. ilvUL of the .Snittaaun Muattamaa CeUetlitmi) 



LOUgh^ 



had hi 



Anerici iSSel^olSi'S^, 

fordiesd and inunded her 

has been rertrded aa iht 
view, as pointed Dal b{ M 

Ttui. hawever. ii not ih 



Akull to a new genua, wilh Ihe 
me being fiiven in hoi>o<ir of iti 
all, for Mr Oflflood pDinEt Dul 







olber 10 Ihe Aaiatic uUi 
nlties wilh Ihe ahccp. If th 

- verygital. From a geofraphical 
-.liely. tat itf ••■■-- ' • 

(Tibet and Swhi 

the lamc rnion, they ahould have repreienia 
Bde irf the Pacibc 



itinct formi really  
infined to Eanem Alia n 



in, while 
II Ihcae 

iraphical 

^oili'C 



IR.L.*) 

}f a large North Ameri- 

' known at Pilxr libe- 

t (Unridat). Aquatic 

Lo the Engliih water-ral and 

ily Uicrelinat (ace Vole). It 

i and body being about la in. 




The Musk- 
in len^h and the tail but 
built animal, with a broad head, no distinct neck, aiid ihciit 
limbs, the eyes are small, and the ears project very Utile beyond 
the (ur. The fore-limbs have four toes and a rudimentary 
thumb, all with daws; the hind limbs aic larger, wilh fivedistind 
loa. united by short webs at their bases. The tail is lalcrally 
compressed, nearly naked, and scaly. The hair much resembl^ 
that ol a beaver, bul is shorter; it consist* of a thick salt under- 
fur, interspcncd wilh longer siiif, glistening hairs, which overlie 
and concoil the lonoei, on the iippcr lurface and lidn of Uie 



MUSK-SHREW— MUSPRATT, J. 



body, the fenciml cdour is daA umber-brown, almost black 
on the back and grey bdow. Tbe tail and naked parts of the 
feet are Uack. Tbe musky odour from which it derives its 
name is due to the secretion of a Urge gland situated in the 
■Bg""**^ region, and present in both lezes. 

The ordinary musk-rat is one of several q>edcs of a genus 
prmliar to America, where it is distributed in suitable localities 
in tbe northern part of the continent, extending from the 
Atlantic to the Pacific, and from the Rio Grande to the barren 
grounds bordering the Arctic seas. It lives on the shores of 
lakes and rivers, swimming and diving with fadlity, feeding on 
the roots, stems and leaves of water-fdants, or on fruits and 
vegetables which grow near the margin of the streams it inhabits. 
Musk-rats are most active at night, q>ending the greater part 
of the day concealed in their burrows in the tnnk, which consist 
of a chamhff with numerous passages, all of which open under 
the surface of the water. For winter quarters they build more 
daborate houses of conical <v dome-like form, composed of 
sedges, grasses and similar materials plastered together with 
mod. As their fur is an important article of commerce, lazge 
numbers are annually killed, being either trapped or speared 
at the mouths of their holes. (See also Rooekha.) 

MII8X-8HRBW, a name for any species of the genus Crocidwra 
of the family Soriddat (see Imsectivora). The term is generally 
used of the common grey musk-shrew (C. coemUa) of India. 
Dr Dobson believed this to be a semi-domesticated variety of the 
brown musk-shrew (C. mmrina), which he considered the original 
wild type. The head and body of a full-grown specimen measure 
about 6 in.; the tail is rather more than half that length; and 
bluish-CEey is the usual colour of the fur, which is paler on the 
under s ur f ace. Dr Blanford states that the story of wine or beer 
becoming impregnated with a musky taint in consequence of 
this shrew passing over the bottles, is less credited in India 
than Cormeriy owing to the discovery that liquors bottled in 
Europe and exported to India are not liable to be thus taint^ 

mnLDI IBM AL-QAJJiJ, the Imam, the author of one of 

the two books of Mahommedan tradition called .^a^l^, " sound," 

was bom at Nishnpur at some uncertain date after aj>. 815 and 

died there in 875. Like al-Bukhflri {q.v.)t of whom he was a 

dose and faithful friend, he gave himself to the collecting, sifting 

and arranging of traditions, travelling for the purpose as far as 

Egypt. It b plain that his sympathies were with the traditionalist 

school or opposed to that which sought to build up the system 

of canon law on a q>eculative basis (see Mahoioceoan Law). 

But thou^ be was a student and friend of Ahmad ibn Qanbal 

(f.r.) he did not go in traditionalism to the lezigtb of some, and 

he d^ended al-Bukhlrl when the latter was driven from Nishapur 

for icfusing to admit that the utterance (/ct/z) of the Koran by 

man was as uncreated as the Koran itself (see Mahoiocedan 

Reugion; and Patton's Ahmad ibn Hanbal, 3a sqq.). His great 

aaUectkm of traditions is second in popularity only to that of 

al-Bakhm, and is commonly r^arded as more accurate and 

reliable in details, especially names. His object was more to 

out illegitimate accretions than to furnish a traditional 

for a sjrstem of law. Therefore, though he arranged his 

material according to such a system, he did not add guiding 

mbrks, and he rqpilarly brought together in one place the 

diflerent parallel versions of the same tradition. His book is 

thus historically more useful, but legally less suggestive. His 

bsagrapbers give almost no details as to his life, and its early 

part was probably very obscure. One gives a list of as many 

as twenty works, but only his ^a^ seems to have reached us. 

See farther, de ^ne's transl. of Ibn Khallik&n, iii. 348 sqq, and of 
Ibn KhaUan • ProUgomhus, ii. 470, 47K; Goldzihcr, Muhammedan- 
iteke Simdiem, n. 345 aqq., 355 sqq.; Brockelmann, GesckickU der 
aab, Liti, L 760 seq.; Macdonald. uadofment of Muslim Theidogy, 
80, 147 aeq.; DhahaU Tadkkira (edit. 01 Hyderabad), ii. 165 aqq. 

(D. B. MaT) 

HOStOI (through Fr. motusdine from It. mussidino, diminu- 
tive oC Mussolo^ i.e. the town Mosul in Kurdistan) a light cotton 
doth said to have been first made at Mosul, a city of Mesopo- 
tamia. Muslins have been largely made in various parts of 
India, wlicnce they were imported to England towards the end 



93 

of the X7th century. Some of these Indian muslins were veiy 
fine and costly. Among the specialties are ilrm MMifMi, made 
In the Madras presidency, and Daua muslittf made at Dacca 
in Bengal. Muslins of many kinds are now made in Eun^ 
and America, and the name is appL'ed to both plain and fancy 
cloths, and to printed calicoes of light texture. Sviss muslin 
is a light variety, woven in stripes or figxires, originally made 
in Switzerland. Book muslin is made in Scotland from very 
fine yams. Mulls, jaconets, lenos, and other cloths exported 
to the East and elsewhere are sometimes described as muslins. 
Muslin is used for dresses, blinds, curtains, 8tc. 

IIU80NIUS RUFU8. a Roman phUosopher of the ist century 
A.D., was born in Etruria about aj>. 20-30. He fell under 
the ban of Nero owing to his ethical teachings, and was exiled 
to the island of Gyarus on a trumped-up chaige of participation 
in Piao's conspiracy. He returned under Galba, and was the 
friend of Vitellius and Vespasian. It was he who dared to bring 
an accusation against P. Egnatius Celer (the Stoic philosopher 
whose evidence had condemned his patron and disdple Soranus) 
and who endeavoured to preach a doctrine of peace and good- 
will among the soldiers of Vespasian when they were advancing 
upon Rome. So highly was he esteemed in Rome that Vespasian 
inade an exception in his case when all other philosophers were 
expelled from the dty. As to his death, we know only that 
he was not living in the reign of Trajan. His philosophy, 
which is in most respects identical with that of his pupil, 
Epictetus, is marked by its strong practical tendency. Though 
he did not altogether neglect logic and physics, he maintained 
that virtue is the only real aim of men. This virtue is not a 
thing of precept and theory but a practical, living reality. It 
is identical with philosophy in the true sense of the word, and 
the truly good man is also the true philosopher. 

Suidas attributes numerous works to him, amongst others a 
number of letters to Apolionius of Tyana. The letters are certainly 
unauthentic: about the others there is no evidence. His views 
were collected by Cbudius (or Valerius) PoUio, who wrote 'Avo- 
liniiuufditaTa MowuHov roO ^Xoai^ov, from which Stobacus 
obtained his Informatioh. See Ritter ana PrcUer (( 477, 488, 489; 
Tacitus, Annals, xv. 71 and Histories^ iii. 81 ; and compare articles 
Stoics and Efictbtus. 

MUSPRATT, JAMES (1793-1886), British chemical manu- 
facturer, was bom in Dublin on the X2th of August 1793. At 
the age of fourteen he was apprenticed to a wholesale druggist, 
but his apprenticeship was terminated in 1810 by a quarrel 
with his master, and in 18x2 he went to Spain to take part in 
the Peninsular War. Lack of influence prevented him from 
getting a commission in the cavalry, but he followed the British 
army on foot far into the interior, was laid up with fever at 
Madrid, and, narrowly escaping capture by tbe French, succeeded 
in making his way to Lisbon. There he joined the navy, but 
after taking port in the blockade of Brest he was led to desert, 
through the harshness of the discipline on the second of the two 
ships in which he served. Returning to Dublin about 1814, 
he began the manufacture of chemical products, such as hydro- 
chloric and acetic acids and turpentine, adding prussiate of 
potash a few years later. He also had in view the manufacture 
of alkali from common salt by the Leblanc process, but on the 
one hand he could not command the capital for the plant, and 
on the other saw that Dublin was not well situated for the experi< 
ment. In 1822 he went to Liverpool, which was at once a good 
port and within easy reach of salt and coal, and took a lease of 
an abandoned glass-works on the bank of the canal in Vauxhall 
Road. At first he confined himself to prussiate of potash, until 
in X823, when the tax on salt was reduced from 158. to 2s. a 
biishel, his profits enabled him to erect lead-chambers for making 
the sulphuric acid necessary for the Leblanc process. In 1828 
he built works at St Helen's and in 1830 at Newton; at the latter 
place he was long harassed by litigation on account of the 
damage done by the hydrochloric acid emitted from his factory, 
and finally in X850 he left it and started new works at Widnes 
and Flint. In 1834-183 5, in conjunction with Charles Tennant,' 
he purchased sulphur mines iii Sicily, to provide the raw material 
for his sulphuric add; but on the imposition of the NeapoUtau 



 pnhibltlvc duty > 

aw mMerul foi the msnuTicliiR of lulphuric lai. He wu 
ilnya uuioiu to uoj^y the beit >deati£c 4dvice tvtihble 
ud to try cvccy novelty Lhkt promiKd ulvuu^e. He wu 
t dMC fiieod at Lieblg, wboK oilDen] maauru were compgunded 
U his woris. He d£d U Scafanh Hall, noi Livcipool.'on the 
4th ol Miy iS86. After hii retiiement in 1B57 his husineis wu 

His eldest son, Jamu Sseudah MdefuiTT (1811-1871), 
studied chemistTy under Tbomsi Gnhsjii st Clsflgow and 
London aod under Liebig at Giessca. snd in 1848 founded the 
LhiBIMal Odlege of Chemistry, Ul lustitation foi tnininc 
chemtHt, of wblch be also acted at dJiectoc. From 1SJ4 to 
i860 he wu ofxuiHHl in prepuing a dictiopaty of Cinniilry . . . 
at ttpKid and riialiiit Is lit Arti and l/atntfactwa, which 
wu translated into Gennao and Rusiisn^ and he published a 
tntmlation of Flattner's treatise on the hlow-pipe io 184;, and 
OitttHia s/ i4«Jyiu in 1844. His original woil included a 
research on the si^phites (184;}, and Ibe preparation of Iiduldine 
and nitro-aniline In 1845-1846 with A. W. Hofnuum. 

mmCHSNBROBK, PIBTBB VAH (1691-1761), .Dutch 
natural philosopher, wu bom on the 14th of Mardi i6oa at 
LeidCD, irtiere his father Johann Joosten van Musichenbroek 
(rM&-l707) wu a maker of pbysca] apparatus. He studied 
at Cbe onivenity of his native dty, where he was a pupil and 
fliend of W. J. I'G. Gravesande. Graduating in 171$ with ( 
dissertation, De atru praatnlia in kmiwribHi ofnuwIiinK, Mus- 
schenhioek was appointed proleuor at Duiiburg in 1719. In 
1713 he wu promoted la Ibe chair of natural philosophy and 
mathematio at Utrecht. In 1731 he declined an invitation 
to Copenhagen, and wu promoted in consequence to the chair 
of uuonomy at Utrecht in 17J1. Tlie attempt of George H. 
of England in 1737 to attract him to the oewly^established 
university of GOltingen wu also unsuccessfuL At leoftb, 

to nmsia at Utrecht, and he acapled the mathematical chair 
at Leiden in 1734, where, declining all oSera from abroad he 
Rmained till his death on the gih of September 1761 
His first important production was Epdemt ^tmentenim pkytuv- 






MUSSCHENBROEK— MUSSEL 

m su^hur Muqiratt found 



milriut Himla U aiiti ffm) tluew nr w 1 ah Dcouiin 
attraction, aad the eahcwn of bodka, A La n vd 

all) of the Italian work Sai^ ti talxiai ucrr 
aaintisAf OuhMS contained among many li 
a deicrip^n of a new iutruDent, the pyrometer % 
brodc iud invested, and of aevcnJ cxpenmcnts iih 
on the expansion of bodies by beat. Muuchcnb <^ 
author orflnmla Myiin (Sno, 17 lO and hu n. 
whh the invention A itt Leyden far [q 

HUUSL (0. Eng. Mucie, Lat. miacalua dmiln 
mouse, applied to small sea i^ and mussels) a 
in England to two families of LameMnDcb Molluscs— the 
marine Mylilatia, of which the edible mussel, Idyttlm ediilu, 
is the representative^ and the fresb-waler Unumidiu, of which 
the ifver mussel, Unia picSorum, and the swan mussel, Anodsnia 
typua, are the common British eaamplea. It is not obvious 
why these fresb-water forms have been asso c ia te d popularly 
with the Uylilaia under the name musul. unless It be on 
accotmt of the fiequently very dark colour ol their shells. Tlicy 
aic tontewbit remote from the sea miuaelj in imictuie, and have 
not even  common conKHnlc Importance. 

The Ma muMd (Mylilia afolii) belongs to the second order 
ol the diM LameUiiiandila (g.t.), namely the Filibtanchia, 
dlitinguiibed by the comparatively free condition of the gill- 
fiUments, which, wtiilM adhering 10 one another Io form gill- 
plates, are yet not fused to one another by concrescence. It is 
also remarkable for Che small siie of its foot and the large 
ro ^ands in the foot — the byssus-forming and 
Lfng ^ands. The byssus is a coUectSon of 



homy threads by which the sea rausad (like many othet LaindQ- 
branch or bivalve mollusi*) hies itself to stones, rocks or 
submerged wood, but is not a permanent means of attachment, 
since it can be discarded by the animal, which, after a cettain 
amount of locomotion, again files itself by new secretion of 
byiaui fnir the loot. Such movemeni is more frequent in 
young muiarls than in the full-grown. ityHita pooosei m 
npbonsl tube-like productions of the margin of the mantle-sltin, 
nor any notching of the same, representative of the aipbonx 
which are found in lu fresta-vatei ally, the Drmtaua fttj- 

UyUha edulii is an eiceedin^y abundant and widely distri- 
buted form. It occun on both sides of the northern Atlantic 
and in the Mediterranean basin. It presents varieties ol fotm 
and colour according to the depth of water and other drcum- 
stanct* of its habilal. Usually it is found on the British cout 
encrusting rocks eipawd at low tides, or on the flat surfaces 
formed by sandbanks overlying day, the latter kind of colonien 
being known locally w " icaipa." Under these oonditiom it 
[orms continuous masses of Intlividusls dosely packed together, 
sometimes eitending over many acres of surf sre and numbering 
milUoos. The readiness iritb which the young Uyliiui attaches 
itself to wicker-work ii made the means d artificially cultivating 
and lecuring these raolluK* (or the market both in the Bay of 
Kiel in North fSermany and at Ibe mouth of the Somme and other 
spots on the coast of France. 

Natural scalps arc subject to eitreme vicissitudes: an are« 
ol many acres may be destroyed by a local change el current 
producing a depout of sand or shin^ over tlie scalp, or by 
eipoaure to frost at low tide in winter, or by accumulation of 
decompo^ng vegetable matter. The chief localities of natural 
scalps on the British coast an Motecambe Bay in Lancashire 
and the fiat eutem shores, especially thai of the Waib o( UncolD. 
and umilar shallow bays. These scalps are in some cases in 
the hands of privste owners, and the Fisheries Department has 
made arrangements by which some local authorities, e.g. the 
corporation ol Boston, can lease layings to individuals for the 
purpose of aitifidal cultivation. 

oyalcr. la 1S7J Uie value of mussels exported trom Antiverp 
alone CO Paris to be used as human food was 1(180,000. In BHcaiii 
hcu* dUef consumptioD is in the dcep-ao line fishery, where itiey 
are held to be the moR efleccive of all bsica Twenty-eight beats 
ennfid in haddock-fishing at Eyemouth used between October 

liSi and May lUi q» tons of muaieli (i' - 

d viduals), costing Many £1800 to Che fishcna 



juancity of mussels landed 
m only 9J.663 cwls.. ralued 1 



ne in the line fisheries. In 1)96 
-— vajued ac £14,910: in 19D1 it 



-- — . ^■r-r.r'j " IVD' « 

£5976- InlbcsutisticsfatEncbiu] 

anu niiin muswit air ntn arijaTlltcly diltinguisbed. Manv thou- 
und tons ol inii«l> ace waatefully employed u maDOR by the 
lumen on landi adjoining •caip-prDduciiig co*ati,asin Lancashire 
and Norfolk, three half-pence a bushel being Ibe price quoted in 
■uch oKs. Ic is a eunous lace, illusccative of the ignorant pro- 
cedure and arUcrary fashions of fishec-loDi. that on the Atlaniic 
■eaboaid of cbe United Sutes the sea rauisel, Vyfffu sdalii. though 
common, is not used u bait nor u food. Instead, the isfi clam. 
Uya attnaria, a LameUibraDch not Died by English or Norwecian 
fiiherrnen. ihourh abundant oa their ihpres, is employed as baic 

iubfI ifl (Tushed in large qusntitiea in order to 

iTi^5!!£ 1. _.*..Ii (ci^jSiey.)* "" 

iree years after the spar 






„ Umdli 

Itynlul rdnlii is a " 
in. in length, which sue 

it will gjow much larger 



ol fair si 



II grow much large 
in length. It b vc 

lottS^ 



than this, s pe cimeiis bciDf rvconlcd ol 
' tolaant ol Itieh water, fattening beat. 

, . of density 1014 (the deodly of the water 

of the North Sea bdng IOM>). Experiments made by temovina 
uussels from salt water to bnckiin, and finallr to qaice fresh 

lyiter; of thirty muneli so tran^erred ail were alive after filteen 
The frt»h-wat 



T Mussels, AmadaHla cypiea, Unit pklarum. 



MUSSELBURGH— MUSSET, ALFRED DE 



95 



and Umo margftrUiftms bdong to the order Etilamenibrandua 

of LanelUbnuich MoDuscs, in which the anterior and posterior 

addoctor musdes are equally developed. An account of the 

anatomy of Auedcn is given in the article Lamelubsanchia. 

Umio differs in no important point from Anodonia in internal 

stractnre. The family Unicnidae, to which these genera helong, 

h of wocid-wide distribution, and its specks occur only in ponds 

and rivers. A vast numbo- of spedes arranged in several genera 

and snb-gcDera have been distinguished, but in the British 

laJands the three spedes above luuned are the only claimants to 

thetitJeof *' fresh-water musseL" 

Antdomta cygHea, the Pond Mused or Swan Muaad, appean to be 
eatiieiy without economic inpoftance. Unto ^icterumt the common 
river rnnwifl (Thames), appears to owe its name to the fact that the 
ibdb were used at one tmie for holding water-colour paints as now 
ibdb of this species and of the sea muasd are used for holding 
gold and aiKcr paint sold by artists* colourmen, but it has no other 
Boonc value. Umie margqriHJenUt the peari mussd, was at 
time of consideFable importance as a source of pearls, and the 
ri nntsad fishenr is to this day carried on under peculiar state 
icgulatioas in S w ed en and Saxony, and other parts of the continent. 
In Smtlawd and Irdand the peari mussel fishery was also of im- 
portance, bat has al to ge t her dwindled into insignificance since the 
opening up of oommetdal intercourse with the East and with the 
iriands oi^ the Padfic Ooean« whence finer and more abundant 
pBub than those of Unio marpiriiiferus are derived. 

In the last for^ y^^ ^ tbe l8th century pearis were exported 
from the Scotch nsoeries to Paris to the value of £ioo/x»; round 
pesili, the siae of a pea, perfect in every respect, were worth £3 
or £4. Tlie peari mumd was formerly used as bait in the Aberdeen 



LrrsKATum. — For an account of the anatomy of MytUtu ed$dis 
At leader is referred to the treatise by Sabatier on that subject 
(Paris. 187s)- The essay by Charles Harding on MoUuscs used 
fof Foad or Bait, published by the committee of the London Inter- 
nadoaal Fisheries Exhibition (1883), may be consulted as to the 
eoooomic questions connected with the .sea mussd. The devdop- 
ncnt of this spoues is described by Wilson in Piflk Ann. Rep. 
Seek FiMk. Board (1887). (E. R. L.; J. T. C.) 

■TOSBLBUROH, a munidpal and police burgh of Midlothian, 
Scotland, 5I m. £. of Edinburgh by the North British railway. 
Pbp. (1901), 11,711. The burgh, which stretches for a mile 
along the south shore of the Firth of Forth, is inteisected by the 
£sk and embraces the village of Fisherrow on the left bank of 
the river. Its original name is said to have been Eskmouth, its 
presHxt one being derived from a bed of mussels at the mouth of 
the river. While preserving most of the ancient features of its 
I^gfa Street, the town has tended to become a suburb of the 
capital. Its fine beach and golf course hastening this development. 
Tbepafalic buildings indude the town-hall (dating from 1762 and 
altoed m 1876), the tolbooth (1590), and the grammar schooL 
Lmetto School, one of the foremost public schools in Scotland, 
the site of the chapel of Our Lady of Loretto, which 
founckd In 1534 by llamas Duthie, a hermit from Mt 
Sbiai Th» was the favourite shrine of Mary of Guise, who 
betook bersdf hither at momentous crises in her history. The 
lit eari of Hertford destroyed it in 1544, and after it was rebuilt 
the Reformers demolished it again, some of its stones being 
Bsed in erecting the tolbooth. In the west end of the town is 
Knkie House, formerly a seat of the abbot of Dunfermline, 
bat transformed in 1613 by Lord Seton. It is a fine example 
of a Jacobean mansion, with a beautiful fountain in the 
middle of the court-yard. The painted gallery, with an elabor- 
ate cdUng, 100 ft. long, was utilized as a hospital after the 
battle Off Pinkie in 1547. Prince Charles Edward slept in it 
the night following the fight at Prestonpans (1745). Near 
the tolbooth stan<b the market cross, a stone column with 
a tmkom on the top supporting the burgh arms. At the 
west end of High Street is a statue of David Macbeth 
Moir (*'Ddta," 1798-1851), Musselburgh's most famous son. 
The antiquity of the town is placed beyond doubt by the 
Roman bridge across the Esk and the Roman remains found 
13 its vicinity. The chief bridge, which carries the hig^ road 
fnxn Edinburgh to Berwick, was built by John Rennie in 
1807. The prindpal industries indude paper-making, brewing, 
tbe making of nets and twine, bricks, tHes and pottery, 
taaosng and oil-refiniog, besides tal^wprkft and seed-crushing 



works, tht fishery .is confined to Fisherrow, where there is 
a good harbour. . The Links are the scene every year of the 
Edinburgh race noieetings and of those of the Royal Caledonian 
Hunt which are hdd every third year. Archery contests also 
take place at interval under the auquces of the Royal Company 
of Archers. Most of the charitable institutions— for instance, 
the convalesoent home, fever hoq>ital, home for girls and Red 
House home — are situated at Inveresk, about x| m. up the Esk. 
About I m. south-east is the site of the battle of Pinkie, 
and 2I m. south-east, on the verge of Haddingtonshire, is 
Carberiiry Hill, where Maiy surrendered to the lords of the 
Congregation In 1567, the spot being still known as (^een 
Mary's Mount. Musselburgh joins with Ldth and Portobdlo 
(the Ldth Burghs) In returning one membo- to parliament. 

MUSSBT. LOUIS CHARLBS ALFRBD DB (1810-1857), French 
poet, play-writer and novelist, was bom on the x xth of Dtcember 
1 810 in a house in the middle of dd Paris, near the HAtd Quny. 
His father, Victor de Musset, who traced his descent back as far 
as 1 140, hdd several minlsterid posts of importance. He brought 
x>ut an edition of J. J. Rousseau's works in 1821, and followed 
it soon afta" with a vdimie on the Genevan's life and writing. 
In Alfred de Musaet's childhood there were various things 
which fostered his imaginative power. He and his brother 
Paul (bom 1804, died x88o), who afterwards wrote a biography 
of Alfred, delighted In reading old romances together, and in 
assuming the characters oi the heroes In those romances. But 
it was not until about 1826 that Musset gave any definite sign of 
the mental force which afterwards distinguished him. In the 
summer of 1827 he won the second prize (at the College Henri 
IV.) by an essay on "The Origin of our Feelings." In 1828, 
when Eugene Scribe, Joseph Duveyrier, who under the name of 
Mdesville, was a prolific pUywriter and sometimes collaborator 
with Scribe, and others of note were in the habit of coming 
to Mme de Musset's house at Auteuil, where drawing-room 
plays and charades were constantly given, Musset, ezdted 
by this companionship, wrote his first poem. This, to judge 
from the extracts preserved, was ndther better nor worse than 
much other work of dever boys who may or may not afterwards 
turn out to be possessed of genius. He took up the study of 
law, threw it over for that of medicine, which he could not 
endure, and ended by adopting no set profession. Shortly 
after his first attempt in verse he was taken by Paul Foucher 
to Victor Hugo's house, where he met such men as Alfred de 
Vigny, Prosper Mdrimfe, Charles Nodier and Sainte-Beuve. It 
was under Hugo's influence, no doubt, that he composed a 
play. The scene was laid in Spain, and some lines, showing 
a marked advance upon his first effort, are preserved. In 
1828, when the war between the riasriral and the romantic 
school of literature was growing daily more serious and exdting, 
Musset had published some verses in a country newspaper, 
and boldly redted some of his work to Sainte-Beuve, who 
wrote of it to a friend, " There is amongst us a boy full of genius.*' 
At eighteen years old Musset produced a translation, with 
additions of his own, of De (^nccy's " Opium-Eatcr." This 
was published by Mame, attracted no attention, and has been 
long out of print. His first original volume was published in 
1829 under the name of Conies d*£spagnc et d'IkUie, had an 
immediate and striking success, provoked bitter opposition, 
and produced many unworthy imitations. This volume con- 
tained, along with far better and more important things, a 
fantastic parody in verse on certain productions of the romantic 
school, which made a deal of noise at the time. This was the 
famous " Ballade i la lune " with its recurring comparison of 
the moon shining above a steeple to the dot over an i. It 
was, to Musset's delight, taken quite seriously by many worthy 
folk. 

In December 1830 Musset was just twenty years old, and was 
already consdous of that curious double existence within him 
so frequently symbolized in his plays— in Octave and Cdio 
for instance (in Les Caprices de Marianne) ^ who also stand for 
the two camps, the men of matter and the men of feeling-— 
which he has elsewhere described as characteristic of his 




96 



MUSSET, ALFRED DE 



genention. At this date his piece the NuU ttniiienni was pro- 
duced by Hard, manager of the Odfon. The exact causes of its 
failure might now be far to seek; unlucky stage accidents had 
something to do with it, but there seems reason to believe that 
there was a strongly organized opposition. However this may 
be, the result was disastrous to the French stage; for it put a 
complete damper on the one poet who, as he afterwards showed 
both in theoretical and in practical writings, had the fine insight 
which took in at a glance the merits and defects both of the 
classical and of the romantic schools. Thus he was strong and 
keen to weld together the merits of both schools in a new method 
which, but for the fact that there has been no successor to grasp 
the wand which its originator wielded, might well be called the 
school of Musset. The serious effect produced upon Mtisset 
by the failure of his Nuii vinUienne is curiously illustrative of 
hk character. A man of greater strength and with equal belief 
in his own genius might have gone on appealing to the public 
until he compelled them to hear him. Musset gave up the 
attempt in disgust, and waited until the public were eager to 
hear him without any invitation on his part. In the case of 
his finest plays this did not happen until after his death; but 
long before that he was fully recognized as a poet of the first 
rank and as an extraordinary master of character and language 
in prose writing. In his complete disgust with the stage after 
the failure above referred to there was no doubt something of 
a not ignoble pride, but there was something also of weakness — 
of a k^ of weakness out of which it must be said sprang some 
of his most exquisite work, some of the poems which could only 
have been written by a man who imagined himself the crushed 
victim of difficulties which were old enough in the experience of 
mankind, though for the moment new and strange to him. 

Mu^et now belonged, in a not very whole-hearted fashion, 
to the " C6nacle," but the connexion came to an end in 1832. 
In 1833 he published the volume called Un Spectacle dans un 
fauteuU. One of the most striking pieces in this — " Namouna " 
— was written at the publisher's request to fill up some empty 
space; and this fact is noteworthy when taken in conjunction 
with the horror which Musset afterwards so often expressed 
of doing anything like writing " to order "—of writing, indeed, 
in any way or at any moment except when the inspiration 
or the fancy happened to seize him. The success of the 
volume seemed to be small in comparison with that of his Contes 
d'Espagne^ but it led indirectly to Musset 's being engaged as a 
contributor to the Revue des deux mondcs. In this he published, 
in April 1833, Andri del Sarto, and he followed this six weeks 
later with Les Caprices de Marianne. Thb play afterwards took 
and holds rank as one of the classical pieces in the repertory 
of the Thidtre Franqais. After the retirement in 1887 from 
the stage of the brilliant actor Dclaunay the piece dropped 
out of the Fran^ais repertory until it was replaced to the 
stage by M. Jules Claretie, administrator-general of the Comldie 
Franqaise, on the 19th of January 1906. Les Caprices de 
Marianne affords a fine illustration of the method referred to 
above, a method of which Miissct gave something like a definite 
explanation five years later. This explanation was also pub- 
lished in the Rcviu des deux mojides, and it set forth that the 
war between the classical and the romantic schools could never 
end in a definite victory for either school, nor was it desirable 
that it should so end. " It was time," Musset said, " for a third 
school which should unite the merits of each." And in Les 
Caprices de Marianne these merits are most curiously and happily 
combined. It has pcrhapa more of the Shakespearian quality — 
the quality of artfully mingling the terrible, the grotesque, and 
the high comedy tones — which exists more or less in all Musset 's 
long and more serious plays, than is found in any other of these. 
The piece is called a comedy, and it owes this title to its extra- 
ordinary brilliance of dialogue, truth of characterization, and 
swiftness in action, under which there is ever latent a sense of 
impending date. Many of the qualities indicated are found in 
others of Musset's dramatic works and notably in On ne badine 
pas avec Vamour, where the skill in insensibly preparing his 
bearers or readers through a succession of dazzling comedy 



scenes for the swift destruction of the end h veiy marked. 
But Les Caprices de Marianne is perhaps for this particular 
purpose of illustration the most compaa and most typical ci 
alL 

The appearance of Les Caprices de Marianne in the Retue 
(1833) ^^ followed by that of " RoUa," a symptom of the 
mdadie du siide. Rolla, for all the smack which is not to 
be denied of Wertherism, has yet a decided individuality. 
The poem was written at tlie beginning of Musset's liaison with 
George Sand, and in December 1833 Musset started on the un- 
fortunate journey to Italy. It was well known that the rupture 
of what was for a time a most passionate attachment had a 
disastrous effect upon Musset, and brought out the weakest 
side of his moral character. He was at first absolutely and 
completely struck down by the blow. But it was not so well 
known until Paul de Musset pointed it out that the passion 
expressed . in the NuU de dicembre, written about twelve 
months after the journey to Italy, referred not to George 
Sand but to another and quite a diifiterent woman. The story 
of the Italian journey and its results are told under the guise 
of fiction from two points of view in the two volumes called 
respectively EUe d lui by George Sand, and Ltd d die hy 
Paul de Musset. As to the permanent effect on Alfred de 
Musset, whose irresponsible gaiety was kiUed by the breaking 
off of the connexion, there can be no doubt. 

During Musset's absence in Italy Fantasio was published in the 
Rente, Lorenzaccio is said to have been written at Venice, and 
not long after his return On ne badine pas cnu I'amour was written 
and published in the Revue. In 1835 he produced Lucie, La NuU 
de mat, La QuenouiUe de Barberine, Le Chandelier, La Lot sur la 
presse. La Nuit de dicembre, and La Confession (Tun enfant du 
siicle, wherein it contained what is probably a true account tA 
Musset's relations with George Sand. The Confession is excep- 
tionally interesting as exhibiting the poet's frame of mind at 
the time, and the approach to a revulsion from the Bonapartist 
ideas amid which he had been brought up in his childhood. To 
the supreme power of Napoleon he in this work attributed that 
moral sickness of the time which he described. *' One man," 
he wrote, " absorbed the whole life of Europe; the rest' of the 
human race struggled to fill their lungs with the air that he had 
breathed." When the emperor fell, "a ruined world was a 
resting-place for a generation weighted with care." The Con- 
fession is further important, apart from its high literary merit, 
as exhibiting in many passages the poet's tendency to shun or 
wildly protest against all that is disagreeable or difficult in human 
life — a tendency to which, however, much of his finest work was 
due. To 1836 belong the Nuit d'aoCt, the Lettre d Lamartine, 
the Stances d la Malibran, the comedy II ne faui jurer de rien, 
and the beginning of the brilliant letters of Dupuis and Cotonet 
on romanticism. // nef out jurer de rien is as typical of Musset's 
comedy work as is Les Caprices de-Marianne of the work in which 
a terrible fatality underlies the brilliant dialogue and >kcea 
polished characterization. In 1837 was published Un Caprice, 
which afterwards found its way to the Paris stage by a curious 
road. Mme Allan-Despr^ux, the actress, heard of it in 
St Petersburg as a Russian piece. On asking for a French 
translation of the play she received the volume Comidies el 
proverbes reprinted from the Revue des deux mondes. In 1837 
appeared also some of the Nouvdles. In 1839 Musset began a 
romance called Le Potte dichu, of which the ousting fragments 
are full of passion and insight. In 1840 he passed through a 
period of feeling that the public did not recognize his genius — 
as, indeed, they did not — ^and wrote a very short but very 
striking series of reflections headed with the words "A trente 
ans," which Paul de Musset published in his Life. In 1841 
there came out in the Rome de Paris Musset's " Le Rhin Alle- 
mand," an answer to Becker's poem which appeared in the 
Rnue des deux mondes. This fine war-song made a great deal 
of noise, and brought to the poet quantities of challenges from 
German officers. Between this date and 1845 he wrote compara- 
tively little. In the last named year the charming " proverbe " 
// faiU qu*une parte soil ouverie ou fermte appeared. In XS47 



MUSSOORIE— MUSTARD 



97 



Un CAprict ms produced at the ThUtre Frangais, and the 
employineDt in it of such a word* as " rebonsoir " shocked some 
of the old schooL But the success of the piece was immediate 
and marked. It increased Musset's reputation with the public 
in a degree out of proportion to its intrinsic importance; 
and indeed freed him from the burden of depression caused by 
want of appreciation. In 1848 // ne faui juror de tien was 
played at the ThUtre Francais and the Chandelier at the Th^tre 
Uistorique. Between this date and 1851 Bdtine was pro- 
duced on the stage and Carmosine written; and between this 
time and the date of his death, from an affection of the heart, 
on the 2nd of May 1857, the poet produced no large work of 
importance. * 

Alfred de Musaet now holds the place which Sainte-Beuve 
first accorded, then denied, and then again accorded to him — 
as a poet of the first rank. He had genius, though not genius 
of that strongest kind which its possessor can always keep in 
check. His own character worked both for and against his 
success as a writer. He inspired a strong personal affection in 
his contemporaries. His very weakness and his own conscious- 
ness of it produced such beautiful work as, to take one instance, 
the Nmit d'octobre. His NouveUesarc extraordinarily brilliant; 
his poems are charged with passion, fancy and fine satiric power; 
in his plays be hit upon a method of his own, in which no one 
has dared or availed to follow him with any closeness. He 
was one of the first, most original, and in the end most successful 
of the first-rate writers included in the phrase " the 1830 period." 
The wilder side of his life has probably been exaggerated; and 
his broClier Paul de Musset has given in his Biograpkie a striking 
testimony to the finer side of his character. In the later years 
of his life Musset was elected, not without opposition, a member 
of the French Academy. Besides the works above referred to, 
the NotnttUs el conies and the CEuvres postkumes, in which 
there is mudi of interest concerning the great tragic actress 
Sachd, should be specially mentioned. 

The biography of Alfred de Musaet by his brother Paul, partial 
as it oatunJly is, is of threat value. Alfred de Musset has afforded 
■atter for many appreciations, and among these in English may be 
mentioned the sketch (1890) of C. F. OHphant and the essay (1895) 
of F. T. Palgrave. bee uao the monograph by ArvMe Banne 
ntladame Vincens) in the ** Grands ^crivains frangais " scries. 
Mttsaec's oorrespoodenoe with George Sand was published intact for 
the fixvt time in 1904. 

A aomtment to Alfred de Musset by Antonan Merci6, presented 
by M. Osiris, and erected on the Place du Th6&tre Fran$ats, was 
duly ** inaugurated " on the a4th of February IQ06. The ceremony 
took place m the vestibule of the theatre, where speeches were 
delivered by Jules Claretie, Francis Coppde and others, and 
Mottnec-^uy recited a poem, written for the occasion by Maurice 
Magre. CW.H.P.) 

MUSSOOKI^ or Masukx', a town and sanitarium of British 
India, in the Dehra Dun district of the United Provinces, about 
6600 ft. above the sea. Pop. (1901), 6461, rising to 15,000 in the 
hot season. It stands on a ridge of one of the lower Himalayan 
ranges, amid beautiful mountain scenery, and forms with 
Xaini Tal the chief summer resort for European residents in the 
piains of the United Provinces. The view from Mussoorie 
o%'er the valley of the Dun and across the Siwalik hills to the 
friains is very beautiful, as also is the view towards the north, 
which b bounded by the peaks of the snowy range. Mussoorie 
practically forms one station with Landaur, the convalescent 
depot for European troops, 7363 ft. above the sea. Some 
distance off, on the road to Simla, is the cantonment of Chakrata, 
7300 ft. It was formerly approached by road from Saharanpur 
in the plains, 58 m. distant, but in 1900 the railway was opened 
to Dehra, ax m. by road. There are numerous schools for 
Eiiiopeans, including St George's college, the Philander-Smith 
iitstitute, the Oak Grove school of the East Indian railway, and 
srveiBl Church of Engbnd and Roman Catholic institutions, 
together with a cathedral of the latter faith. The first brewery 
in India was established here in 1850. The town has botanical 
y»wijt»«, and is the summer headquarters of the Trigonometrical 
&irvey- 

MUSTAFA BBSHID PASHA (1800-1858). Turkish statesman 
and diptomatist, was bom at Constantinople in z8oo. He 



entered the public service at an early age and rose rapidly^ 
becoming ambassador at Paris in 1834 aind in London 1836, 
minister for foreign affairs 1837, again ambassador in London 
1838, and in Paris 1841. Appointed vali of Adrianople in 
1843, he returned as ambassador to Paris in the same year. 
Between 1845 and 2857 he was six times grand vizier. One of 
the greatest and most brilliant statesmen of his time, thoroughly 
acquainted with European politics, and well versed in affairs, 
he was a convinced if somewhat too ardent partisan of reform 
and the principal author of the legislative remodelling of Turkish 
administrative methods known as the Tanzimat. His ability 
was recognized alike by friend and by foe. In the settlement 
of the Egyptian question in 1840, and during the Crimean War 
and the ensuing peace negotiations, he rendered valuable services 
to the state. 

MUSTAMO. the wild or semi-wild horse of the prairies of 
America, the descendant of the horses imported by the Spaniards 
after the conquest in the i6th century (see HoasE). The word 
appears to be due to two Spanish words, mestrencOf or mostrenco, 
defined by Minsheu (1599) as "a strayer. " Mestrenco (now 
mesteno) means " wild, having no master," and appears to be 
derived from mesta, a grazier-association, which among other 
functions appropriated any wild cattle found with the herds. 

MUSTARO. The varieties of mustard-seed of commerce are 
produced from several species of the genus Brassica (a member 
of the natural order Cruciferae). Of these the principal are the 
black or brown mustard, Brassica nigra (Sinapis xifra), the 
white mustard, Brassica alba, and the Sarepta mustard, B. 
juncea. Both the white and black mustards are cultivated 
to some extent in various parts of England. The white is to 
be found in every garden as a salad plant; but it has come into 
increasing favour as a- forage crop for sheep, and as a. green 
manure, for which purpose it b ploughed down when about to 
come into flower. The black mustard is grown solely for its 
seeds, which yield the weU-known condiment. The name of the 
condiment was in French moustardCf mod. moutarde, as being made 
of the seeds of the plant pounded and mixed with must (Lat. 
mustum^ i.e. tmf ermented wine) .* The word was thtis transferred 
to the plant itself. When white mustard is cultivated for its 
herbage it is sown usually in July or August, after some earl^ 
crop has been removed. The land being brought into a fine 
tilth, the seed, at the rate of i a lb per acre, is sown broadcast, 
and covered in the way recommended for clover seeds. In 
about six weeks it is ready either for feeding off by sheep or for 
ploughing down as a preparative for wheat or barley. White 
mustard is not fastidious in regard to soil. When grown for 
a seed crop it is treated in the way about to be described for the 
other variety. For this purpose either kind requires a fertile 
soil, as it is an exhausting crop. The seed is sown in April, 
is once hoed in May, and requires no further culture. As soon as 
the pods have assumed a brown colour the crop is reaped and 
laid down in handfuls, which lie tmtil dry enough for thrashing 
or stacking. In removing it from the ground it must be handled 
with great care, and carried to the thrashing-floor or stack on 
cloths, to avoid the loss of seed. The price depends much on 
its being saved in dry weather, as the quality suffers much 
from wet. This great evil attends its growth, that the seeds 
which are unavoidably shed in harvesting the crop remain in the 
soil, and stock it permanently with what proves a pestilent weed 
amongst future crops. 

White mustard is used as a small salad — generally accompanied 
by garden cress — ^while still in the seed leaf. To keep up a 
supply the seed should be sown every week or ten days. The 
sowings in the open ground may be made from March till October, 
earlier or later according to the season. The ground should 
be light and rich, and the situation warm and sheltered. Sow 
thickly in rows 6 in. apart, and slightly cover the seed, pressing 
the suriace smooth with the back of the spade. When gathering 
the crop, cut the young plants off even with the ground, or pull 

* There were two kinds of mustum, one the best for keeping, 
produced after the first treading of the grapes, and called mustum 
Uxivum; the other, mustum tortivum, obtained from the mass of 
trodden grapes by the wine-press, was used for inferior purpofes. 



98 



NfUSTARD OILS— MUSURUS 



them up and cut off the roots, beginning at ooe €hd of 4 row. 
From October to March the seeds should be sown thickly in 
shallow boxes and placed in a wann bouse or frame, with a 
temperature not below 6^. 

Brassica nigra occurs as a weed in wtote and cultivated ground 
throughout England and the south of ScoUand, but is a doubtful 
native. It is a huge branching annual a to 3 ft. high with stiff, 
rather rough, stem and branches, dark green leaves ranging from 
lyrate below to lanceolate above, short racemes of small bright 
yellow flowers one-third of an inch in diameter and narrow 
smooth pods. . B. alba is more restricted to cultivated ground and 
has still less claim to be considered a native of Great Britain; 
it is distinguished from black mustard by its smaller size, larger 
flowers and seeds, and spreadipg rough haiiy pods with a long 

curved beak. 

The peculiar pungency and odour to which mustard owes much/>f 
its value are due to an cMential oil devdoped by the action of water 
on two peculiar chemical substances contahied in the black seed. 
These bodies are a glucoside termed by its discoverers myionate of 
potassium, but since csUed sinigrin, CwHuKNSiOmi and an albumin 
noid body, myrostn. The latter substance in presence of water 
acts as a terment on stnierin, splitting it up into the essential oil of 
mustard, a potassium salt, and su^. It is worthjr of remark that 
this reaction does not take place m presence of boilioK water and 
therefore it is not proper to use very hot water (above iso* F.) in 
the preparation 01 mustard. The explanation u that myrosin b 
decomposed by water above this temperature. Essential oil of 
mustard is in chemical constitution an isothiocyanate of allyl 
CsHiNCS. It ts prepared artificially by a process, di s covered ^ 
Zittzin, which consists in treating bromide of allyl with thiocyabate 
of ammonium and distillii^ the resultant thiocyanate of allyl. The 
seed of white mustard contains in place' of sin^rin a peculiar gluco- 
side called sinalbin, CMH44N»SiOM* in several aspects analogous to 
sinigrin. In presence of water it is acted upon by myrodn, 
present also in white mustard, splitting it up into acrinyl isothio- 
cyanate, sulphate of sinapin ana glucose. The first of these is a 
powerful rubefacient, whence white mustard, althoughyielding 
no volatile ml, forms a. valuable material for plasten. The seeds 
of Brassica jimcea have the same constitution and p roperticsas black 
mustard, as a substitute for which they are extensively cultivated 
in southern Ru8«a; the plant is also cultivated abundantly in India. 

Both as a table condiment and as a medicinal substance, mustard 
has been known from a very remote period. Under the name of 
riav it was used by Hippocrates in medicine. The form in which 
table mustard is now sold in the United Kingdom dates from i7ao, 
about which time Mrs Clements of Durham hit on the idea of grinding 
the seed in a mill and stftina the flour from the husk. The bright 
yeUow farina thereby produced under the name of " Durham 
mustard " pleased the taste of George I., and rapidly attained wide 
popularity. As it u now prepared miutard consists essentially of 
a mixture of black and white farina in certain proportions. Sevieral 
grades of pure mustard arp made containing nothing but the farina 
of mustard-seed, the lower qualities havinji larger amounts of the 
white dieaper mustard; and corresponding grades of a mixed 
preparation of .equal price, but oontainim certain proportions of 
wheaten or starch flour, are also preparea and soldf as " mustard 
condiment.'* The mixture is free from the unmitigated bitterness 
and sharpness of flavour of pure mustard, and it keeps much better. 

The vwatile ml distilled from black mustard seeds after maceration 
with water is official in the British Pharmacopeia under the title 
Oleum sinapis wolaiiU. It is a ydlowish or odourless pungent 
liquid, soluble only in about fifty parts of water, but readuy so in 
etner and in alcohol. Kipm it is prepared, with camphor, castor 
oil and alcohol, the UnimeiUiim sinapis. The oflkial sifiaPu consists 
of black and white mustard seeds powdered and mixed. The advan- 
tage oif mixture depends upon the fact that the white mustard seeds 
have an excess of the ferment myrosin, and the black, whilst some- 
what deficient in mvro^i yield a volatue body as compared with the 
fixed product of toe white mustard seeds. From this mixture is 
prepared the eharia sinapiSt which consists of cartridge paper covered 
with a mixture of the powder and the liquor caoukkouct the fixed 
oil having fint been removed by benni, thus rendering the glucoside 
capable df being more easily decomposed by the ferment. 

Used intemally as a condiment, mustard stimulates the salivary 
but not the gastric secretions. It increases the peristaltic move- 
ments of the stomach very markedly. One drachm to half an ounce 
of mustard in a tumblenul of warm water is an efficient emetic, 
acting directly upon the gastric sensory nerves, long before any of 
the drug could be absorbed so as to rrach the emetic centre in the 
medulla oblongata. The heart and respiration are reflexly stimu- 
lated, mustard being thus the only stimulant emetie. Some few other 
emetics act without any appreciable depression, but in cases of 

Kisoning with respiratory or cardiac failure mustard should never 
forgotten^ In contrast to thb may be mentioned, amongst the 
external therapeutic applications of mustard, its frequent power of 
relieving vomiting when locally applied to the epigastrium. 



The uses of mustard leaves In the treatment of local pains are 
well known. .When a marked counter-irritant action is needed, 
mustard is often preferable to cantharides in being more manageable 
and in causing a less degree of vesication; but the cutaneous damage 
done by mu^ard usually takes longer to heaL A mustard tits 
bath wul often hasten and alleviate the initial stage of menstruation, 
and is sometimes used to opedite the appearance of the eruption 
in measles and scarlatina. The domestic remedy of hot water and 
mustard for children's feet in cases of cold or threatened cold may 
be of some use in drawing the blood to the surface and thus tendiiw 
to prevent an exoesmve vascular dilatation in the nose or broochu 
The proportion of an ounce of mustard to a gallon of water b a fair 
one and easily remembered.- But by far the most- important 
therapeutic application erf mustard b as a unique emetic 

MUSTARD OILS, -organic chemical compounds of general 
formula R*NCS. They may be prepared by the action of 
carbon bbulphide on primary amines in aloohoUc or ethereal 
solution, the alkyl dithio-carbamic compounds formed being 
then precipitated with mercuric chloride, and the mercuric 
salts heated in aqueous solution, 

aR.NH,^KS3f.J}Hai"?S'^^NCS,J,Hg-^HgS+H,S+aRNCS; 

or the isocyanic esters may be heated with phosphorus penta^ 
sulphide (A. Michael and G. Palmer, Amer, Chem. Jour,^ 1S84, 
6, 357). They are colourless liquids with a very pungent irritating 
odour. Tiity are readily, oxidized, with production of the corre- 
sponding amine. Nascent hydrogen onverts them into the 
amine, with umultaneous formation of thio-formaldehyde, 
RNCS+4H-RNH9-I-HCSH. When heated with adds to 
zoo* C, they decompose with forination of the amine and libera- 
tion of carbon bbulphide and sulphuretted hydrogen. They 
combine directly with aloohds, mercaptans, ammonia, amines 
and with aldehsrde ammonia. 

Metkyl mustard aU, CHiNCS, melts at 3S*Cand boib at no* C. 
AU^ mustard oUt CsHaNCS, b the pnncipal constituent of the 
ordinary mustard oil obtained on distilling black mustard seeds. 
These seeds contain potasuum myiionate (CmHiiNSA*K) whkh in 
pre s en ocof water b nydrolyicd by the myrosin present in the seed, 

CwHMNStOi»K-CHiA+KHSO«+crHiNCS. 
It may also be prepared by heating allyl sulphide with potassium 
sulphocyanide. . It b a colourless liquid boiling at 150*7" C. It 
combines directly^ with potassium bbulphite. Phenyl mustard oil, 
C»Hf N CS, b obtained by boiling sulphoau^nilidc with concentrated 
hydrochlmic add, some triphenylguanidine being formed at the same 
time. It is a colouriess liquid boiUng at 33a* C. When heated 
with copper powder it yields benzonitnle. 

MUSTER (Mid. Eng. moslrct moustrct adapted from the similar 
O. Fr. forms; Lat. monstrare), originally an exhibition, show, 
review, an exhibition .-of strength, prowess or power. One of 
the meanings of thb common Romanic word, viz. pattern, 
sample, b only used in commercial usage in English {e.g. in 
the cutlery trade), but it has passed into Teutonic languages, 
Ger. MuHeTf Du. mousler. The most general meaning b for the 
assembling of soldiers and sailors for inspection and review, and 
more particularly for the ascertainment and verification of the 
numbers on the roU; Thb use b seen in the Med. Lat. manslrum 
and mcHstraliOf "recensio militum" (Du Cange, Gloss, s.v.). la 
the "enlbtment" ^stem of army organization during the 
x6th and X7th centuries, and later in certain special survivals, 
each regiment was "enlbted" by its colonel and reviewed 
by spedal officers, " muster-nmsters," who vouched for the 
members on the pay roll of the regiment representing its 
actual strength. Thb was a necessary precaution in the days 
when it was in the power of the comnoiander of a unit to fill 
the muster roll with the names of fictitious men, known in the 
military slang of France and Eni^d as passe-^olants and 
''faggots" respectively. The chief officer at headquarters 
was Uie muster-master-generd, later commissary general of 
musters. In the United States the term b still commonly 
used, and a soldier b " mustered out " when he b officially 
discharged from military service. 

MUSURUS, MARCUS (e. 1470-X5X7), Greek scholar, was 
bom at Rhithymna (Retimo) in Crete. At an early age he 
became a pupfl of John Lascaib at Venice. In 1505 he was 
nude professor of Greek at Padua, but when the univeraity 
was dosed in 1509 during the war of the league of Cambrai he 



MUTE— MUTILATION 



99 



retiiroed to Venice, where he filled a similar poet. Ih S516 he 
vas sammoned to Rome by Leo X., who appointed him arch- 
btthopof Monemvasia {Mahasia) in the Pelopon&ese, but he died 
before he left Italy. Since 1493 Musurus had been associated 
vith the famous printer Aldus Manutius, and belonged to 
the "Neacademia," a society founded by Manutius and other 
learned men for the promotion of Greek studies. Many of the 
Aldine classics were brought out under Musurus's supervision, 
and be is credited with the first editions of the scholia of Aristo- 
phanes (1498), Athenaeus (1514), Hesycbius (15x4), Pausanias 
(1516). 

See R. Menge's De M. Musuri vita studiis tugjoUo, in vol. 5 of 
M. Scfanudt's edition of Hesycfaius (1868}. 

MUTB (Lat. muius, dumb), silent or incapable of qieech. For 
the human physical incapacity see Deat and Dumb. In 
phonetics (q.9.) a *'mute" letter is one which (like ^ or ^ repre- 
sents no individual sound. The name of "mutes" is given, for 
obvious reasons, to the undertaker's assistants at a funeraL In 
music a "mute" (Ital. 50r^»iM, from Lat. ««r(fM, deaf ) is a device 
for deadening the sound in an instrument by checking its vibra- 
tioos. Its use is marked by the sign c.«. (con sordino), and its 
cessation by s^. (sensa sordino). In the case ci the violin and 
oihtr stringed instr\mients this object is attained by the use of a 
piece of brass, wood or ivory, so shaped as to fit on the bridge 
wiih<nit toad:dn^ the strings and hold it so tightly as to deaden 
<v muffle the vibrations. In the case of brass wind instruments 
s leather, wooden or papier m&ch6 pad in the shape of a pear 
vith a bofe throuf^ it is placed in the bell of the instrument, 
by which the passage of the sound is impeded. The interference 
vith the pitch of the instruments has led to the invention of 
dabwately constructed mutes. Players on the horn and 
trumpet frequently use the left hand as a mute. Drums are 
mot^ or "muffled"' either by the pressure of the hand on the 
head, or by covering with doth. In the side drum this is effected 
by the insertion of pieces of doth between the membrane and the 
"snares," or by loosening the "snares." The muting of a 
pianoforte is obtained by the use of the sof t-pedaL 

MlfTIAN. KONRAO (X471-X526), Gennan humanist, was 
bom in Homberg on the xsth of October 147 1 of well-to-do 
parents named Mut, and was subsequently known as Konrad 
Maxianns Ruf us, from his. red hair. At Deventer under Alex- 
ander H^ushe had £rasmusasschooIfeUow;pxoceeding(x486)to 
the univctsity of Erfurt, he took the master's degree in 1493. 
From 1495 ^ travelled in Italy, taking the doctor's degree 
ia canon law at Bologna. Returning in X502, the landgraf of 
Hesae proooted him to- high o^ce. The post was not congenial; 
he resgned it (1503) for a small salary as canonicus in Gotha. 
Matian was a man of great influence in a sdect circle espedally 
coanected with the university of Erfurt, and known as the 
Mvtianiscker Bund, which induded Eoban Jiess, Crotus 
Rubeanus, Justus Jonas and other leaders of independent 
thfwight , He had no public ambition; except in correspondencej 
sad as an q)igrammatist, he was no writer, but he furnished 
ideas to those who wrote. He may deserve the title which has 
beta given him as "precursor of the Reformation," in so far as he 
desired the reform of the Church, but not the establishment 
of a rivaL Like Erasmus, he was with Luther in his early 
stage, but deserted him in his later development. Though he 
had personally no hand in it, the Epistolae obscurorum virorum 
(due espedaPy to Crotus Rubeanus) was the outcooM of the 
ReucUioists in his Bund. He died at Gotha 00 the 30th of 
March (Good Friday) 2526. 

.See F. W. Kampschulte. Die Vnigersitdt Erfurt (1858-1860); C. 
Krauae. E^anus Hessus (1879) ;L. Geigcr, in AUiemeine Deutsche 
Biet. (1886) : C. Krause. DerBriefwechsddes Mutianus Rufus (1885) ; 
aoother coOcctipn by K. Gillert (1890). (A. Go.*) 

■OTILATIOlf (from Lat. mulilus, maimed). The wounding, 
maiming and disfigitring of thq body is a practice common 
ataong savages and systematically pursued by many entire races. 
The varieties of. mutilation are as numerous as the instances of 
it are vidoqpread. Nearly every part of the body is the object 
cf Bmtilation, and nearly every motive common to human I 



beings-^vanity, religion, affection, prudence— has acted in 
giving rise to what has been proved to be a custom of great 
antiqui^. Somte forms, such as tattooing and depilation, 
have, stayed on as practices even after dvilisation has banished 
the more brutal types; a&d a curious fact is that analogous 
mutilations are fouxid observed by races separated by vast 
distances, and proved to have had no relations with one another, 
at any rate in historic times. Ethnical mutilations have in 
certain races a great sociological value. It is only after sub- 
mission to some such operation* that the youth is admitted to 
full tribal xighu (see lMinATiON>. Tattooing, too, has a semi- 
religious importance, as when a& ixidividual beais a representa- 
tion of his totem on his body; and many mutilations are tribe 
marks, or brands used to know sUves. 

Mutilations may be divided into: (i) those of the skin; (a) of the 
face and head; (3) of the body and limbs; (4) of the teeth ; (5) of the 
sexual organs. 

I. The prindpal form of aUo-mutilation b tattooing (9.9.), the 
ethnical importimoe of whkh is very great. A practice ahnoat as 
common is defulation, or removal 01 hair. This is dther- by means 
of the rsjcor, «.(. in Japan, by depilatories, or by tearing out the hairs 
beparatdy, as among most savage peoples. The parts thus mutilated 
are uauallY the eyebrowi, the face, the scalp ano the pubic regions. 
Many African natives tear out'all the body hair, some among them 
(tf.f . the Bongos) using spedal pincers. Deflation is common, too, 
in the South Sea Islands. The Andaman islanders and the Boto- 
cudos of Brazil shave the body, using sheU-edges and other primitive 
instruments. 

^ 2. Mutilations of the face and head are usually restricted to the 
lips, ears, nose and cheeks. The lira arc simply poforated or 
distended to an extraordinary degree. The Botocudos insert disks 
of wood into the lower lip. Lip-mutilations are common in North 
America, too, .on the Mackenzie river and among the Aleutians. 
In Africa the/ are frequently practised. The Manganja women 
pierce the upper lips and introduce small metal shidds or rings. 
The Mittu women bore the lower lip and thrust a wooden peg througn; 
In other tribes little sticks of rock crystal are pushea through, 
which jingle together as the wearer talks. The women of Senegal 
increase the natural thickness of the upper lip by pricking it repeat- 
edly until it is permanently inflamed and swollen. The ear, and 
I»rtiLularIy the lobe. Is almost univereally mutilated, from the ear- 
rings of the civilized West to the wooden disks of the Botocudos. 
The only peoples who are said not to wear any form of ear ornament 
are the Andaman islanders, the Neddahs, the Bushmen, the Fuegiani 
and, certain tribes of Sumatra. Ear mutilation in its most exag* 
gera'ted form is practised in Indo-China by the Mds of Annam'and 
the Penangs of Cambodia, and in Borneo by the Dyaks. They 
extend the lobe by the insertion 01 wooden disksr and by metal 
rings and weights, until it sometimes reaches the shoulder. In 
Africa and Asia earrings sometimes wdgh nearly half a pound. 
Livingstone said that the natives of the Zambesi distend the pef-. 
foration inthe lobe to such- a degree that the hand dosed could be 
passed through. The Monbuttus thrust through a perforation in 
the body oi the ear rolls of leaves, or of leather, or cigarettes. The 
Papuans, the inliabitants of the New Hebrides, and most Melanfsian 
peoples carry all sorts of thinKs in their ears, the New Caledonians 
using them as pipe-racks. Many races disfigure the nose with 
perforations. The young dandies of New Guinea bore holes through 
the septum and thrust through pieces of bone or flowers, a mutilation 
found, too, among New Zcaunden, Australians, New Caledonians 
and other. Polynesian races. In Africa the Banis and Bongos hang 
metal rings and buckles on their noses; the Aleutians cordsj bits 
of metal or amber. In women it is the side 6t the noefe whxh is 
usually perforated ; rings and jewdled pendants (as among Indian 
and Arabic women, the ancient Egyptians and Jews), or feathers, 
flowers, coral, &c (as in Polynesia), bdng hung there. Only one 
side of the nose is usually pcriorated, and this is not always merely 
decorative^ It may denote social position^ as aroon^ the Ababdes 
in Africa/whose unmarried giris wear no rings in their noses. The 
male Kulus of the Himalaya wear a large nng in- the left nostril. 
Malays and Polynesians sometimes deform the nose by enlarging 
its b^, effecting this b> compression of the nasal bones of the 
newly bom. 

The cheeks are not so frequently mutilated. The people of the 
Aleutian and Kurile Islands bore holes through their cheeks and 
pkure in them the long hairs from the muules of seals. The Guaranis 
of South America wear feathers in the same manner. In some 
countries the top of the head or the sldn behind the ears of chiklren 
b burnt to preserve them from sickness, traces of which mutilation 
are said to be discoverable on some neolithic skulls; while some 
African tribes cut and prick the neck close to the ear. By many 
peoples the deformation of the skull was anciently practised. 
Herodotus, Hippocrates and Strabo mention such a custom among 
peoples of the Caspian and Crimea. Later similar practices were 
found existing among Chinese mendicant sects, some tribes of 
Turket tan, the Japanese priesthood, in Malaysia, Sumatra, Java and 



MUTINY— MUTSU HITO 



■he Bolli «•*■ In Eiinpc it •*• not nnlaiown. But [be diKsvery 

dT Afnerioi brauElit lo our ki^owledEe tboee racet which nude i fine 
■rt of ikuU-defDrmiiva. Al the pment d«.y the cuitom it ttiLl 
obKnrcl by the Haidu ■»] ChinoDJu. (nil by onain triba d Peru 

^pW. in ihe SuhnnDB' liUndi ind IhTN^ ^I^^ TIk 

iMB caiei. uTor eiam^ in that ol tike Chinook I Ddiuu, wlio 
defonaed the ikuU to diittiifiiiih thenidvea fTom thor liivea- 
Or it iiuy limve baenthroutli i defire to live a Ecrocioui appearance 

_ _ i-i-sSr 

rent.metbodt prevaiied: by band*, lundages, boaidt. com- 



. Thedefon 






Jy have bm employed^ 

loEcr joint! u > ti;n o( moun. 



cilbi {Africa). They amputate the nummae dI boyi loon ader 
\ believiiw so warriof can poadbiy be i>ravc who f j oe n i iCB 
1. The [iiluoii of dinoRini the feet of Chlneae ladiei o( high 



lanh hu been of Idoe ' 



Nyi 






^indiSi'.SESh' 

'iKnl lofTe (he growth at the "Pper ir 

1 tooth kmclced'^ 

to oiKioauiih tribe Itom tnDe. inua i 
leetli in onkr to be ualilie otlKT Papuan 

fa tliit way mch piacticca become tradi 

nucilatioru, thoae of tiie teeth ir tnala of 
"id talce plac" 

jia (SlieiHt) _, .., 

withaHinl. .Thiiiiali 



tribe nonh-eait of the Aiben 



have white teeth. Tliit i 






Malay i>i 



n J.v, 



P^ka of Borne 



le rroovei arc alto made wi' 

le t«tk filed to a point. '. ... 

make a inuU hole in the trantvefse eroove and 
w, which is hammered to a nail-head lupc in the 



Their al^i; 
nlh the idc 



bollow, or they inlay th ._ ,_._ .^ . 

ucieol Meaicau al» inlaid the teieth with predou 

y Mutilaiiou of the miial organt ape more eti 

IJUd any. Tbey have pbyed a (nat part in hi 

H undoubtsfly treal, and nearW a U ori gjnaie 

(».)p ha! been tranafonned into M relifiou* l-_ ._ .. 

(Lat-jUala, a claip), or the aiiachlnEi ring, claip. or buckle to the 
•exvai ocfana, In femaLa through tbeubia majora. in nulei through 

practiacd in antiquity. At Rome ii waa in uk; &rabo layi it wai 

-.lent in Aiabta and in Eofypi, and it ii fiill native to ihoie jeeioni 

■. Uoian Eottiaui, i. 7]; Arabic Lawm, i.i. " kajada "). 



Nieb^r 



Gulf and at Bagdad <D«criM>« J(l'.1niMc. p.70). Il i> common in 
AfricajH Sir 11. H. johnnon. XUtMujars Eiftdiliim.^ iM6|. but 



iirll. H. Johnnc 
.ill replaced by ar 
ujora IDgeilvr w" 



Cailiaiion it pracilMd in [he Eut to auEnily guard! for harenkA, a 
wuemplove<f in Italy u mil the lime of Pope Leo Xllf. loprovl 
 loprani fottheijapal choir; it haa alio been volunurilyjubmilt 






snAS 



nkeSM^w^m 

li(B cut Dfl^jcatpi town away: and ■mu 
Kd aUve. Tbe eariien lomi-lawi of wl 



■hole body fla^ 



they i^ eaitntid^' Under tlM^ld^'ol ihe'w^ Saaan dyni 
the \r3m of haoda had been a common penally for cnnina ( 
0»ioJ<((PaiHikM«li^.Stn^it>n. by.S.Mee>OBMorHi). Mo 

— =- John'ereiniat the Salop Aatiaeaia IJ03, where 

cbe aod oibera " ' 



Alia Critbecnct 



accuied of murdoiog ao old 

iced to deolh. but tbe penalty wat altered to that of 
eyei [ducked oat. I>iitiii| tbeTudorand Stiiarl ceiiodt 

.u,..i.™vy'm^rrft^«i!yiouKilanS''Aea!— '■'— "^ ™— 
are laid to be preaerved at Playford Hall. Ipan 
Heniy Vlll.'i lime for cullin* oil an. Thb 
haveWn inflidr' ' ■■■" -'■■—'■  



ind^ihe Star Chamber. Thet* 

peaaliy appeaia is 
'■■— -- EfHenrr 



kina'i court or Kouie " wai the h>u of the richt baod. For 
incl on Tin ilniUmt Xenavn «/ tVtmt* a Nonconformi 
(Dr W. Stubba) had hi> right hand lapped oB. Atiiwig m 

lanvick and Titui Oatei. 



ol Prynne, 

MDnir 

to recognized 



." O. Fr. I 



the Late Lai. 

ppedally api^ied to 

a BcoitioD ID aoy military or oaval forcea of the atale. Such 

oflrncei are dealt with by couita-mailial. (See MnJIAIX Law 

and CouKT Martial.) 

mvnV, MONBUmU, Cotna (iS4>-iS96). JapaacM Hales- 

of "dan govemmtnt " — that ii, usurpation of admioistraiivi 
posts by men of two or (line fiefi, an abiue which Uiiealened 
to [oUow the ovcnhrow of the Tokugawa lAcfanoU — he coa- 
ipired to auiit Saigo's rebellion and wu imprisoned from iS;S 
until iSSj. While in prison he translated Benlham'i UliliUrian. 
iim. In iSSe, after a visit to Europe, he received a djplomalic 

the China-Japan War (iSgi-^s), being associaled with Prince 
(ibcD Counl) Ilo u peace plenipotentiary. He negotiated 
the Ertt of the Rvijed ttealin (that wiib Great Biilaui), and 
(or these various services he received the title o( count. He 
died in Tfikyd in i8«6. His statue in bmue atandi bcloie the 
foreign office in TOkyC. 

MUTSn HITO. MtKAIw, or Ewebob, ot Japan (1851- ) 
was bom on the 3rd of Novel ' 



in Jan, 
1 the jist of October iS 



y 1867. a 
. The C( 



lo foreigners by the preceding shflgun lyemochi, who in i8j4 
concluded  irijly wiih Commodore Perry by which it waa 
agreed that certain ports should be ai>en 10 lorcign trade. 

daimiDS, and on their initiative the mikado suddrnly deddcd 
to abolish the shogunate. This resolution «£. not catiicd out 
without strong opposition. The reigning shegun, Keiki, yielded 
to the decree, but many ol his followers were not so complaisant, 
and it was only by force of arms thai the new order of things 
was imposed on the counliy. The main object ol those who 
had advocated tbe change was to lead to a rcvctslon to the 



MUTTRA 



lOI 



priinitjvt condition of affairs, when the wiH of the mikado was 
ifaedute and when the presence in Japan of the hated foreipwr 
ms unknown. But the reactionary party was not to be allowed 
to monopolize revolutions. To their surprise and discomfiture, 
the powerful daimios of Satsuma and ChOshQ suddenly declared 
themselves to be in favour of opening the country to foreign 
interooune, and of adopting many far-reaching reforms. With 
this movement Mutsu Hito was cordially in agreement, and of 
his own motion be invited the foreign representatives to an 
audience on the 33rd of March x868. As Sir Harry Parkes, 
the British minister, was on his way to this assembly, he was 
attacked by a number of two-sworded samurai, who, but for 
hb guard, would doubtless have succeeded in assassinating 
him. TTie outrage was regarded by the emperor and his minis- 
ters as a ie6ection on their honour, and they readily made all 
reparation within their power. While these agitations were 
afoot, the emperor, with his advisers, was matunng a political 
c(fflstitotk>n which was to pave the way to the assumption by 
the emperor of direct personal rule. As a step in this direction, 
Motsu Hito transferred his capital from Ki6t6 to Yedo, the 
former seat of the sfaOguns' government, and marked the event 
by renaming the dty TOkyO, or Eastern Capital. In 1869 the 
emperor paid a visit to his old capital, and there took as his 
imperial consort a princess of the house of Ichijd. In the same 
year Motsu Hito bound himself by oath to institute <»rtain 
reforms, the first of which was the establishment of a deliberative 
aasemUy. In tha onward movement he was supported by the 
majority of the daimios, who in a supreme moment of patriotism 
surrendered their estates and privileges to their sovereign. This 
was the death-knell of the feudalism which had existed for so 
many centuries in Japan, and gave Mutsu Hito the free hand 
which be desired. A centralized bureaucracy took the place of 
the old system, and the nation moved rapidly along the road of 
progress. Everything European was eagerly adopted, even 
down to frock-coau and patent-leather boots for the officials. 
Torture was abolished (1873), and a judicial code, adapted from 
the Code Napolfon, was authorized. The first railway— that 
from Yokohama to T6ky0 — was opened in 1872; the European 
calendar was adopted, and English was introduced into the 
curracoltim of the common schools. Fn all these reforms Mutsu 
Hito took a leading part. But it was not to be expected that 
sath sweeping changes could be effected without opposition, 
and thtke daring the period between 1876 and 1884 the emperor 
had to face serious rebellious movements in the provinces. 
These be succeeded in suppressing; and even amid these pre- 
occnpations he managed to inflict a check on his huge neighbour, 
the empire of China. As the government of this state declared 
that it was incapable ctf punishing certain Formosan pirates for 
outrages committed on Japanese ships (1874), Mutsu Hito 
landed a force on the island, and, having inflicted chastisement 
on the bandita, remained in possession of certain districts until 
the compensation demanded from Peking was paid. The un- 
paralkled advances which had been made by the government 
were now hdd by the emperor and his advisers to justify a 
demand for the revision of the foreign treaties, and negotiations 
were opened with this object. They failed, however, and the 
oonseqoent disappointment gave -rise to a strong reaction against 
rroything fore^ throughout the country. Foreigners were 
assaulted on the roads, and even the Russian cesarevich, after- 
wards the tsar Nicholas II., ^as attacked by would-be assassins 
in tbe streets of T&kyO. A renewed attempt to revise the 
treaties in 1894 was more successful, and in that year Great 
Britain led tbe way by concluding a revised treaty with Japan. 
Otber nations followed, and by xgox all those obnoxious clauses 
sogyesllve of political inferiority had finally disappeared from the 
treaties. In the same year (1894) war broke out with China, and 
Moisa Hito, in common with his subjects, showed the greatest 
zeal for the campaign. He reviewed the troops as they left 
tbe whom of Japan for Korea and Mai^churia, and personally 
distrftoted rewards to those who ^lad won distinction. In 
the war with Russia, 1904-5, the samie was the case, and it was 
to tbe virtues of their emoeror that his generals loyally .ascribed 



the Japanese victories. In his wise patriotism, as in all matters, 
Mutsu Hito always placed himself in the van of his countrymen. 
He led them out of the trammels of feudalism; by his progressive 
rule he lived to see his country advanced to the first rank of 
nations; and he was the first Oriental sovereign to form an 
offensive and defen^ve alliance with a first-rate European 
power. In 1869 Mutsu Hito married Princess Haru, daughter 
of IchijO Tadaka, a noble of the first rank. He has one son 
and several daughters, his heir-apparent being Yoshi Hito, who 
was born on the 31st of August 1879, and married in 190c 
Princess Sada, daughter of Prince KujO, by whom be had three 
sons before 1909. Mutsu Hito adopted the epithet of Meiji, or 
" Enlightened Peace," as the nengo or title of his reign. Thus 
the year 1901, according to the Japanese calendar, was the 
34th year of Meiji. 

MUTTRA. or MATHtTSA, a city and district of British India 
in the Agra division of the United Provinces. The city is on the 
right bank of the Jumna, 30 m. above Agra; it is an important 
railway junction. Pop. (1901), 60,042. It is an ancient town, 
mentioned by Fa Hien as a centre of Buddhism about aj>. 400; 
his successor HsQan Tsang, about 650, states that it then con- 
tained twenty Buddhist monasteries and five Brahroanical 
temples. Muttra has suffered more from Mahommedan plunder 
than most towns of northern India. It was sacked by Mah- 
mud of Ghazni in 1017-18; about 1500 Sultan Sikandar Lodi 
utterly destroyed all the Hindu shrines, temples and images; 
and in 1636 Shah Jahan appointed a governor expressly to 
" stamp out idolatry." In 1669-70 Aurangzeb visited the city 
and continued the work of destruction. Muttra was again 
captured and plundered by Ahmad Shah with 35,000 Afghan 
cavalry in 1756. The town still fcrms a great centre of Hindu 
devotion, and large numbers of pilgrinu flock annually to the 
festivals. The special cult of Krishna with which the neighbour- 
hood is associated seems to be of comparatively late date. 
Much of the prosperity of the town is due to the residenire of a 
great family of seths or native bankers, who were con^ipicuously 
loyal during the Mutiny. Temples and bathing-stairs line the 
river bank. The majority are modem, but the mosque of 
Aurangzeb, on a lofty site, dates from 1669. Most of the public 
buildings are of whit^ stone, handsomely carved. There are 
an American mission, a Roman Catholic church, a museum of 
antiquities, and a cantonment for a British cavalry regiment. 
Cotton, paper and pilgrims' charms arc the chief articles of 
manufacture. 

The District ot Mctttra has an area of 144 5 sq. m. It consists 
of an irregular strip of territory lying on both sides of the 
Jumna. The general level is only broken at the south-western 
angle by low ranges of limestone hills. The eastern half con- 
sists for the most part of a rich upland plain, abundantly irrigated 
by wells, rivers and canals, while the western portion, though 
rich in mythological association and antiquarian remains, is 
comparatively unfavoured by nature. For eight months of the 
year the Jumna shrinks to the dimensions of a mere rivulet, 
meandering through a waste of sand. During the rains, how- 
ever, it swells to a mighty stream, a mile or more in breadth. 
Formerly nearly the whole of Muttra consisted of pasture and 
woodland, but the roads constructed as relief works in 183 7- 1838 
have thrown open many large tracts of country, and the task 
of reclamation has since proceeded rapidly. The population 
in 1901 was 763,099, showing an increase of 7 % in the 
decade. The principal crops are millets, pulse, cotton, wheat, 
barley and sugar cane. The famine of 1878 was severely felt. 
The eastern half of the district is watered by the Agra canal, 
which is navigable, and the western half by branches of the 
Ganges canal. A branch of the Rajputana railway, from 
Achnera to Hathras, crosses the district; the chord line of the 
East India, from Agra to Delhi, traverses it from north to south; 
and a new line, connecting with the Great Indian Peninsula, 
was opened in 1905. 

The central portion of Muttra district forms one of the most 
sacred spots in Hindu mythology. A circuit of 84 kos around 
Gokul and Brindaban bears the name of the Braj-Mandal, and 



102 



MUTULE— M UZ AFFARNAGAR 



carries with it many associations of earliest Aryan times. 
Here Krishna and his brother Balarama fed their cattle upon the 
plain, and numerous relics of antiquity in the towns of Muttra, 
Gobardhan, Gokul, Mahaban and Brindaban still attest the 
sanctity with which this holy tract was invested. During the 
Buddhist period Muttra became a centre of the new faith. 
After the invasion of Mahmud of Ghazni the city fell into 
insignificance till the reign of Akbar; and thenceforward its 
history merges in that of the Jats of Bharatpur, until it again 
acquired separate individuality under Suraj Mai in the middle 
of the i8th century. The Bharatpur chiefs took an active part 
in the disturbances consequent on the declining power of the 
Mogul emperors, sometimes on the imperial side, and at others 
with the Mahrattas. The whole of Muttra passed under British 

rule in 1804. 
See F. S. Crowse, Maikura (Allahabad, 1883). 

MUTULB (Lat. mtUulus, a stay or bracket), in architecture 
the rectangular block under the soffit of the cornice of the Greek 
Doric temple, which is studded with g^auu. It is supposed to 
represent the piece of timber through which the wooden pegs 
were driven in order to hold the rafter in position, and it follows 
the rake of the roof. In the Roman Tkmc order the mutule 
was horizontal, with sometimes a crowning fillet, so that it 
virtually fulfilled the purpose of the modillion in the Corinthian 
cornice. 

MUZAFFAR-ED-IAN, shah of Persia (1853-1907), the second 
son of Shah Nasr-ed-Din, was born on th^ 25th of March 1853. 
He was in due course declared vdi akd, or heir-apparent, and 
invested with the governorship of Azerbaijan, but on the 
assassination of his fatl^r in 1896 it was feared that his elder 
brother, ZiU-es-Sultan, the governor of Isfahan, might prove 
a dangerous rival, especially when it was femembered that 
MuzafTar-ed-Dln had bwn recalled to Teheran by his father upon 
his failure to suppress a Kurd rising in his province. The 
British and Russian governments, in order to avoid wide- 
tpread disturbances, agreed however to give him their support. 
All opposition was thus obviated, and Muzaffar-ed-Din was 
duly enthroned on the 8th of June 1896, the Russian general 
Kosakowsky, commander of the Persian Cosstfcks, presiding over 
the ceremony with drawn sword. On this occasion the new 
shah announced the suppression of all purchase of civil and 
military posts, and then proceeded to remit in perpetuity all 
taxes on bread and meat, thus lightening the taxation on food, 
which had caused the only disturbances in the last reign. But 
whatever hopes may have been aroused by this auspicious 
beginning of the reign were soon dashed owing to the extrava- 
gance and profligacy of the court, which kept the treasury in 
a chronic state of depletion. Towards the end of 1896 the 
Amin-es-Sultan, who had been grand vizier during the last 
years of Nasr-ed-Dln's reign, was disgraced, and Muzaffar-ed- 
Dln announced his intention of being in future his own grand 
vizier. The Amin-ad-Dowla, a less masterful servant, took 
office with the lower title of prime minister. During his short 
administration an elaborate scheme of reforms was drawn up 
on paper, and remained on paper. The treasury continued 
empty, and in the spring of 1898 Amin-«s-Sultan was recalled 
with the special object of filling it. The delay of the British 
government in sanctioning a loan in London gave Russia her 
opportunity. A Russian loan was followed by the establishment 
of a Russian bank at Teheran, and the vast expansion of 
Russian influence generally. At the beginning of 1900 a 
fresh gold loan was negotiated with Russia, and a few 
months later Muzaffar-ed-Din started on a tour in Europe 
by way of St Petersburg, where he was received with great 
state. He subsequently went to Paris to visit the Exhibition 
of 1900, and while there an attempt on his life was made 
by a madman named Francois Salson. In spite of this 
experience the shah so enjoyed his European tour that he 
determined to repeat it as soon as possible. By the end of 
1 901 his treasury was again empty; but a. fresh Russian loan 
replenished it and in 1902 he again came to Europe, paying 
on this occasion a state visit to England. On his way back 



he stopped at St Petersburg, and at a banquet given in his 
honour by the tsar toasu were exchanged ot unmistakable 
significance. None the less, during his visit to King Edward VIL 
the shah had been profuse in his expressions of friendship for 
Great Britain, and in the spring of 1903 a special mission was 
sent to Teheran to invest him with the Order of the Garter. 

The shah's misguided policy had created widespread dis- 
affection in the country, and the brunt of popular disfavour 
fell on the atabeg (the title by which the Amin-es-Sultan was 
now known), who was once more disgraced in September 1903. 
The war with Japan now relaxed the Russian pressure 00 
Teheran, and at the same time dried up the source of supplies; 
and the clergy, giving voice to the general misery and discontent, 
grew more and more outspoken in their denunciations of the 
shah's mbrule. Nevertheless MuzafTar-ed-Din defied public 
opinion by making another Journey to Europe in 1905; but, 
though received with the customary distinction at St Petersburg, 
he failed to obtain further supplies. In the summer of 1906 
popular discontent culminated in extraordinary demonstrations 
at Teheran, which practically amounted to a general strike. 
The shah was forced to yield, and proclaimed a liberal con- 
stitution, the first parliament bring opened by him on the xath 
of October 2906. Muzaffar-ed-Din died on the 8th of January 
1907, being succeeded by his son Mahommed Ali Mirza. 

MUZAFFAR6ARH. a town and district of British India, 
in the Mullan division of the Punjab. The town is near the 
right bank of the river Chenab, and has a railway sutibn. 
Pop. (1901), 40x8. Its fort and a mosque were built by Nawab 
Muzaffar Khan in 1794-1796. 

The District of MuzAFFAtCARR occupies the lower end of 
the Sind-Sagar Doab. Area, 3635 sq. m. In the northern 
half of the district is the wild thai or central desert, an arid 
elevated tract with a width of 40 m. in the extreme north, 
which gradually contracts until it disappears about xo m. 
south of MuzaflTargarh town. Although apparently a table-land, 
it is really composed of separate sandhills, with intermediate 
valleys lying at a lower level than that of the Indus, and at 
times flooded. The towns stand on high sites or are protected 
by embankments; but the villages scattered over the lowlands 
are exposed to annual inundations, during which the people 
abandon their grass-built huts, and take refuge on wooden 
platforms-attached to each house. Throughout the cold weather 
large herds of camels, belonging chiefly to the Povindah 
merchants of Afghanistan, graze upon the sandy waste. 

The district possesses hardly any distinct annals of its own, 
having always formed part of Multan ig.v.). The population 
in 1901 was 405,656, showing an increase of 6*4% in the decade, 
due to the extension of irrigation. The principal crops are 
wl^at, pulse, rice and indigo. The most important domestic 
animal is the camel. The district is crossed by the Norths 
Western railway, and the boundary rivers are navigable, besides 
furnishing numerous irrigation channels; originally copstiucted 
under native rule. 

MUZAFFARNAOAR, a town 'and district of British India, 
in the Meerut dixision of the United Provinces. The town is 
790 ft. above the sea, and has a station on the North- Western 
railway. Pop. (1901), 33444. It is an important trading centre 
and has a manufacture of blankets, tt was founded about 1633 
by the son of Muzaffar Khan, Khan-i-Jahan, one of the famous 
Sayid family who rose to power under the emperor Shah Jahan. 

The District op Muzaffarnacar has an area of 1666 sq. m. 
It lies near the northern extremity' of the Doab or great alluvial 
plain between the Ganges and the Jumna, and shares to a large 
extent in the general monotony of that level region. A great 
portion is sandy and unfertile; but under irrigation the soil is 
rapidly improving, and in many places the villagers have 
succeeded in introducing a high state of cultivation. Before 
the opening of the canals Muzaffamagar was liable to famines 
caused by drought; but the danger from this has been mini- 
mized by the spread of irrigation. It is traversed by four main 
canals, the Ganges, Anupshahr, Deoband and Eastern Jumna. 
Its trade is confined to the raw materials it produces. The 



MUZAFFARPUR— MYCENAE 



103 



of the district i» comparatively cool, owing to the 
pranmity of the hUls; and the average annual rainfall ia 33 m. 
The popolatioa in xgoi was 877,188, showing an increase of 
ij*5 % in the decade, which was a period of unexampled 
prosperity. The principal crops are wheat, pulse, cotton and 
si^isr-cane. The district b crossed by the North-Wcstem 
raflway from Delhi to Saharanpur. 

Hindu tradition represents Muzaffamagar as having formed a 
portion of the Paodava kingdom of tl^ MakSbhdrata; authentic 
faistocy, however, dates from the time of the Moslem conquests 
in the ijth cctitory, from which time it remained a dependency 
of the various Mahommedan dynasties which ruled at Delhi 
until the practical downfall of the Mogul Empire in the middle 
of the i8th century. In 1788 the district fell into the. hands 
of the Mahrattas. After the faU of Aligarh, the whole Doab 
as far north as the Siwalik hills passed into the hands of the 
British without a blow, and Muzaffarnagar became part of 
Saharanpur. It was created a separate jurisdiction in 1824. 
During the Mu6ny there was some disorder, chiefly occaiSoned 
by offidal weakness, but no severe fighting. 

SmMmaafarnagar District Catetteer (Allahabad. 1903). 

■UZAFFARPUR* a town and district of British India, in the 
^taa division of Bengal. The town is on the right bank of 
the little Gandak river, and has a railway station. Pop. (1901), 
45^17. The town is well laid out, and is an important centre 
of trade, being on the direct route from Patna to Nepal It is 
the headquarters of the Behar Light Horse volunteer corps and 
kas a ooUege established in 1899. 

The DsnucT ow MDZAFPAapua has an area of 3035 sq. m. It 
formed in January 2875 out of the great district of Tirhoot, 
iq> to that time was the largest and most populous district 
of Lower Bengal. The district is an alluvial plain between the 
Ganges and the Great Gandak, the Baghmat and Little Gandak 
being the principal rivers within it. South of the Little Gandak 
the land is somewhat elevated, with depressions^ containing 
lakes toward the south-east. North of the Bighmat the land 
is krwrr and marshy, but b traversed by elevated dry ridges. 
The tract between the two rivers b lowest of all and liable to 
floods. Pop. (1901), 3,754.790, showing an increase of z*$ % 
in the decade. Average density, 9x4 per sq. m., being exceeded 
in aD India only by the neighbouring dbtrict of Saran. Indigo 
(soperseded to some extent, owing to the fall in price, by sugar) 
and ophim are laigdy grown. Rice b the chief grain crop, 
and doth, carpets and pottery are manufactured. The dbtrict 
b txavctscd in several directions by the Tirhoot system of the 
Bengal and North-Westem railway. It sufifered from drought 
in 1873-1874, and again in X807-1898. 

See Miwmffar^ District CaaeUeer (CalcutU, 1907). 

MDZIASO, GIROLAMO (1528-1592), Italian painter, was 
hem at Acquafredda, near Brescia, in 1528. Under Romanino, 
an imitator of Titian, he studied hb art, designing and colouring 
according to the principles of the Venetian school. But it was 
■ot until he had left his native place, still in early youth, and 
had repaired to Rome about 1550, that he came into notice. 
There hb pictures soon gained for him the surname of // Ciavane 
i^ paesi (the young man of the landscapes); chestr.ut-trecs 
are* p redo m inant in these works. He next tried the more 
elevated sfyle of hbtorical painting. He imitated Michelangelo 
(8 giving great prominence to the anatomy of his figures, and 
became food of painting persons emaciated by abstinence or 
Ease. Hb great picture of the " Resurrection of 
i'* at once established his fame. Michelangelo praised 
it. and pronounced its author one of the first artists of that age. 
It was placed in the church of Santa Maria Maggiore, but was 
afterwards transferred to the C^uirinal Palace. Muziano, with 
dogged perseverance (at one time he shaved his head, so as not 
to be tempted to go out of doors), continued to proceed in the 
path on which he had entered. He grew excellent in depicting 
icreigD and military costumes, and in introducing landscapes 
iMo Ida hbtorkal pieces after the manner of Titian. Mosaic 
working also occupiied hb attention while he was empl(^ed as 



even 



superintendent at the Vatican; and it became under hb hands 
a perfect imitation of painting. Hb ability and industry soon 
gained for him a handsome fortune. Part of thb he expended 
in assisting to found the Academy of St Luke in Rome. He 
died in 1594, and was buried in the church of Santa Maria 
Maggiore. 

Many of MurianoV works are In the churches and palaces of 
Rome; he also worked in Orvieto and Loreto. In Santa Maria 
deali Angeli. Rome, b one of hb chief works, " St Jerome preaching 
toMonks In the Desert " : his " arcumdaion " is in the church of the 
GcsA, hb " Ascension " in the Araceli. and hb " St Francis receive 
ing the Stigmata " in the church of the Conception. A picture by 
htm, represe n ting Christ washing the feet of nts disdples, b in the 
cathedral of Reims. 

HUZZIOU.. OIOVAMlfl (1854-1894), Italian painter, was 
bom in Modena, whither hb family had removed from Castel- 
vetro, on the loth of February 1854. From the time that he 
began to attend the k)cal academy at the age of thirteen he was 
recQgnked as a prodigy, and four years later, by the unanimods 
vote of the Judges, he gained the Poletti scholarship entitling 
him to four years' residence in Rome and Florence. After hb 
return to Modena, .Munioli visited the Paris Exhibition, and 
there came under the influence of Sir L. Alma Tadema. His 
first important picture was ** In the Temple of Bacchus " (i8Sx); 
and hb masterpiece, " The Funeral of Britannicus," was one of 
the chief successes of the Bologna Exhibition of x888. From 
1878 to hb death (August 5, 1894) Muzzioii lived in Florence, 
where he painted the altar-piece for the church of C^telvetro. 

See Hist4fry «/ Modern Italian Art, by A, K. WiUard (London. 
18 98)- 

MWERUt a large lake of Eastern Central Africa, traversed 
by the Lui^nila or upper Congo. It lies 3000 ft. above the sea; 
measures about 76 m. in length by some 25 in breadth, and is 
roughly rectangular, the axb running from S.S.W. to N.N.E. 
It b cut a little sbuth of its centre by 9** S. and through its 
N.E. corner passes 29** E. At the south end a shallow bay 
extends to 9" 31' S. East of thb, and some miles further north, 
the Luapula enters from a vast marsh inundated at high water; 
it leaves the lake at the north-west comer, making a sharp bend 
to the west before assuming a northerly direction. Besides 
the Luapula, the principal influent is the Kalungwizi, from the 
east. Near the south end of the lake lies the island of Kilwa, 
about 8 m. fai length, rising into plateaus 600 ft. above the 
lake. Here the air b cool and balmy, the soil dry, with short 
ttirf and clumps of shady trees, affording every requirement for 
a sanatorium. Mwem was reached by David Livingstone in 
1867, but its westem shore was first explored in 1890 by Sir 
Alfred Sharpe, who two years later effected its circumnavigation. 
The eastem shores from the Luapula entrance to its exit, 
together with Kilwa Island, belong to Britbh. Central Africa, 
the western to the Belgian (Tongo. 

HTAUNOMTA, a dbtrict in the Irrawaddy divi»on of lower 
Burma, formed in 1893 out of a portion of Bassein district, and 
reconstituted in 1903. It has an area of 2663 sq. m., and a 
population (1902) of 278,119, showing an increase of 49% in 
the decade and a density of 104 inhabitants to the square mile. 
Among the population were about 12,800 Christians, mostly 
Karens. The dbtrict b a deltaic tract, bordering south on the 
sea and traversed by many tidal creeks. Rice cultivation and 
ibhing occupy practically all the inhabitants of the dbtrict. 
The town of ikyaungmya had 47x1 inhabitants in 1901. 

HTCENAB, one of the most ancient cities of Greece, was 
situated on a hill above the northem extremity of the fertile 
Argive pl&in-^iil/xv ''Ap7eof Ivwofibroio. Its situation is ex* 
ceedingly strong, and it commands all the roads leading from 
Corinth and Achaca into the Argive plain. The waHs of Mycenae 
are the greatest monument that remains of the Heroic age 
in Greece; part of them is similar in style and doubtless con- 
temporary in date with the walls of the neighbouring town 
Tiryns. There can therefore be little doubt that the two 
towns were the strongholds of a single race. Tiryns commanding 
the sea-coast and Mycenae the inner country. Legend tells 
of the rivalry between the dynasties of the Pelopidae at Mycenae 



tod a[ the Pioctidu il Argoi In tsHy tiiitoric tbon Artf* 
faad obtAiocd tbe predomiDance. The Mymimtuit, who htd 
temporarily regained their iodependence with the help of 
Spina, (ought on the Creek lidc it PIkih in 47g B.C. The 



of Mycenaean an >nd o[ the anliquitiei . 
see A£C£AH Civiuiation. 

The citani lemaini of the town o! Mycei 
the hill between the vilhge o( Chuvili i 



: ire iprad over 
i UiE AcropoUi. 
d of hams, and 



waiU of the Acropolis are in 



ilibi oT Mone *et up  






I end, with otbcn laid inest the 

lii enckAure nttreit to Ibi Lioo 
drcle of tUbi 



HippOHd ll 



iflh foT such 1 purpoie, and it can hardly be anything 
 ucied endoilire. Ii hoj w;thlo Ihii circle that Dr H. 
JiFminn found the five gnvet that coaUincd a mirvellaui 
ilih of gold amameDii and other objecti; k ikth wu >ub- 
uently found. Above one of the gnvci wu  amill drcutii' 
ir. ftDd there were oIm levetal tculptuted ilibi let up above 
m. The gravs tbeniiclva were niete tfatfti niak In (be 
li. Dr Schliemann identified them with the graves of 
LmcmnoR, Cassandra, and their companions, which were 
wn to Pausanias within the wills; and there an be little 
ibt thai they are the gnvct that gave rise to the tiaditku. 




is ptecipilous and Ihey have been carried away by  landslip; 
Ihey ale (or the nwsi part built of irregular blocks of great 
sue in Ibe so-called " Cyclopian " style, but tetlain portions, 
notably that near (he chief gale, are built in almost regular 
courses of squared tiones; there are also tome later repairs in 
polygonal masonry. The main entrance is called the Lion Gate, 
from (he (annus (riangular relie( which Alls the space above 
lis massive lintel. This represents (wo lions tonftonled, resting 
Ihcir front legs on a low altar-like i(ruc(ure on which is a 
pillar which stands between them. The device is a translation 
into sione ol a type not uncommon in gem-cuKcr'i and 
goldsmith's work o( the "Mycenaean" age. The gate is 
approached by a toad commanded on one side by the diy wall, 
on the other by a projecting lower. There is also u postern 
giLc on the north side of the wall, and at its eastern ealremity 
are two apenures in the thickness of (he wall. One o( these 
Ifadi out on [0 the rocks above the southern ravine, (he other 
leads to 1 long staircase. lompleiily concealed in the wall and 
"" )r spring. Just 



I the Lion I 



g o( (1 



wall SI 
c {ODcentric drclcs 



age have been (ound, and others, (ctraced up 
occupy almost the whole of the Acitqwlis. On the aummii. 
approachn) by a well-preserved flight o( steps, are the lemains 
of a palace of the Mycenaean age. similar to that (ound st 
Tiiyns. though not 90 complicated or eiteniive. Above tbem 

last days of Mycenaean indepeodcrce in [he sthecnluty. 

Numerous grave] have been (ound in the slopes of the hills 
adjoining the town o( Mycenae. Most of these consist merely of 
acfaamber.usuallytquare.eicavatedinthe rock, and approach«) 
by a "dromos" or horiaontal approach in the side of a hill. 
They arc sometimes provided with doorways faced with stucco, 
and these have painted ornamentation. Many of these tombs 



r and 



ich more conlFUcuous kind of tomb is ihat 
le beehive tomb. There art eight of them at Mycenae 
others in the neighbourhood. Some of them b-ctc 

ime of Pausanias, vho calls them the places 



■there Atmt and hb sons k 



e the tomha of princely 



MYCETOZOA 



105 



comiBonky called the Treasury of Atretis, is jtist outside the Lion 
Gate. It consists of a circular domed chamber, nearly 50 ft 
in diameter and in height , a smaller square chamber opens out 
of it. It is approached by a horizontal avenue 20 ft wide and 
115 ft. long, with side walls of squared stone sloping up to a 
height of 4S ft. The doorway was flanked with columns of 
alabaster, with rich spiral ornament, now in ibc British Museum, 
and the rest of the facade was very richly decorated, as may 
be seen from Chipitfz's fine restoration The inside of the 
vault was ornamented with attached bronze ornaments, but 
not, as is sometimes stated, entirely lined with bronze. It is 
generally supposed that these tombs, as well as those excavated 
in the rock, belong to a later date than the shaft-tombs on the 
Acropolis. 

Sec H. Schliemann. Mycenae (1879) . C Schuchhardt. Sckl*emann's 
Exanatums (Eng. trans.. 1891) , Chr Tsountas. Miw^mu tal MiMnyvauit 



»o\irt#|t6t (1803) : Tsountas and Manatt. The Mycenaean Age (t 9^7) ; 

PetTot and Chipi 

UycenttMne Various reports in IIpcwrurA r^ ifix haipin and in 



>iez. Hutoire d* t'art dans rantiqutti, vol. vi., L'art 



HTCETOZOA (Myxomycetes. Schleimpiize), in zoology, a 
group of organisms reproducing themselves by spores. These 
are produced in or on sporangia which are formed in the air 
and the spores are distributed by the currents of air They 
thus difier from other spore-bearing members of the animal 
kingdom (w^hich produce their spores while immersed in water 
or, in tbe case of parasites, within the fluids of their hosts), 
and resemble the Fungi and many of the lower green plants. 
In relation with this condition of their fructification the structures 
formed at the spore-bearing stage to contain or support the 
spores present a remarkable resemblance to the sporangia of 
certain groups of Fu.igi. from which, however, the Mycetozoa 
are essentially different. 

Ahhough the sporangial and some other phases have long been 
known, and Fries had enumerated 192 species in 1829, the 
main features of their hfe-history were first worked out in 1859- 
1860 by de Bary (i and 2). He showed that in the Mycetozoa 
tbe spore hatches out as a mass of naked protoplasm which 
almost immediately assumes a free-swimming flagellate form 
ffocspcre)^ that after multiplying by division this passes into an 
amoeboid phase, and that from such amoebae the plasmodia 
arise, though tbe mode of their origin was not ascertained by him. 

The Plasmodium of the Mycetozoa is a mass of simple proto- 
plasm, without a differentiated envelope and endowed with 
the power of active locomotion. It penetrates the interstices 
of decaying vegetable matter, or, in the case of the species 
Badkamia utrictUaris, spreads as a film on the surface of living 
fungi; it may grow almost indefinitely in size, attaining under 
favourable conditions several feet in extent It constitutes 
tbe donainant phase of the life-history. From the Plasmodium 
tbe ^)orangia take their origin. It was Cienkowski who (in 
1863) contributed the important fact that the Plasmodia arise 
by tbe fusion with one another of numbers of individuals in 
the amoeboid phase — a mode of origin which is now generally 
recognized as an essential feature in the conception of a 
plasraodiom. whether as occurring among the Mycetozoa or 
in other grou(a (7). De Bary clearly expressed the view that 
the life-history of the Mycetozoa shows them to belong not 
to the vegetable but to the animal kingdom. 

The individual sporangia of the Mycetozoa are, for the most 
part, minute structures, rarely attaining the size of a mustard- 
seed, thotigh. in the composite form of aethalia, they may 
form cake-like masses an inch or more across (fig. 21) They arc 
focnd, stalked or sessile, in small clusters or distributed by the 
thousand over a wide area many feet in diameter, on the bark 
of decaying trees, on dead leaves or sticks, In woods and shrub- 
beries, among the stems of plants on wet moors, and, generally, 
at the surface in localities where there is a substratum of decaying 
vegetable matter sufficiently moist to allow the Plasmodium 
U> live. Tan-heaps have long been known as a favourite habitat 
ol Puligo septica, the plasmodia of which, emerging In bright 
yeflow masses at the surface prior to the sporangial (in this 
case actbalial) phase, are known as " flowers of tan " Tbe 



film-like, expanded condition of the Plasmodium, varying in 
colour in different spedes and traversal by a network of vem- 
like channels (fig. 5), has long been known. The plasmodial 
stage was at one time regarded as representing a distinct group 
of fungi, to which the generic name Mesentertca was applied. 
The species of Mycetozoa are widely distributed over the world in 
temperate and tropical latitudes where there is sufficient 
moisture for them to grow, and they must be regarded as not 
inconsiderable agents in the disintegrating processes of nature, 
by which complex organic substances are decomposed into 
simpler and more stable chemical groups. 

Classification — ^The Mycetozoa, as here understood, fall into 
three main divisions. Tbe Endosporeae, in which the spores are 
contained within sporangia, form together with the Exosporeae. 
which bear their spores on the surface of sporophorcs, a natural 
group characterized by forming true plasmodia. They con- 
stitute the Euplasmodida. Standing apart from them is the 
small group of the mould-like Sorophora, in which the amoeboid 
individuals only come together immediately prior to spore- 
formation and do not completely fuse with one another. 

A number of other organisms living on vegetable and animal 
bodies, alive or dead, and leading an entirely aquatic life, are 
included by Zopf (31) under the Mycetozoa, as the " Monadina," 
in distinaion from the " Eumycetozoa," consisting of the three 
groups above mentioned. The alliance of some of these (e.g. 
Protomonas) with the Mycetozoa is probable, and was accepted 
by de Bary, but the relations of other Monadina arc obscure, 
and appear to be at least as close with the Heliozoa (with which 
many have in fact been classed). The limiu here adopted, 
following de Bary, include a group of organisms which, as 
shown by their life-history, belong to the atiimal stock, and yet 
alone among animals* they have acquired the habit, widely 
found in the vegetable kingdom, of developing and distributing 
their spores in air. 

Class MYCETOZOA. 

Subclass I. — EUPLASIIOOIOA.' 

Division t. — Endosporeae. 
Cohort 1. — Amaurosporales. 
Sub-cohort 1. — Calcarineae. 
Order I. Physaraccae. Genera: Badkamta, Physarum, Physarella, 
Trickamphora, Erionema, Cienkowskia, Fuligo, Craterium, 
Leocarpus, Ckondrioderma, Diackaea. 
Order a. Didymiaceae. Genera : Didymium, Spumaria, LepidO' 
derma. 

Sub<ohort 2. — Amaurochaetineae. 
Order i. Stemonitaccae. Genera: Stemonilis, Comatricka, Ener- 

Ikenema, EckinosUUum, Lamproderma, Ciasloderma, 
Orders Amaurochaetaceae. Ccnen: AmaurockaeU, Brefeldia, 
Cohort 2.— Lamprosporales. 
Sub<ohort 1. — Ancmineae. 
Order I Heterodermaceae. Cienera: Lindhladia, Cribraria, 

Dictydium. 
Order 3, Licaeceae. Genera : Licea, Oreadella, 
Order 3. Tubulinaccae. Genera; Tuhulina. Sipkoflyekittm, Atvfisia. 
Order 4. Reticulariaceae. Genera : Dtctydiaelkaiium, EnUridium, 

Reticularia. 
Order 5. Lycogalaceae. Cknus: Lycogala, 

Sub«cohort 2.-- ^Taloncmlneae. 
Order 1. Trichiaceac. Genera: Trickia, Oligontma, Hemitrickia, 

Cornuvia. 
Order 2, Arcyriaceae. Genera: Arcyria, LacknoMus, Perickaena. 
Order 3. Margaritaceae. Genera: Margarita, Dianema, ProUh 
trickia^ Listerella. 

Division 2. — Exosporeae, 

Order 1. Ceratiomyxaceae. Genus: Ceratiomyxa^ 

Subclass 3.— Sorophora. 

Order i. Cuttulinaceae. Genera: Copromyxa, Cuttulina, CuUU' 

linopsis. 
Orders. Dictvostcltaceae. Genera: Dictyoslelium, Acrasis, P<^y- 

tphondylium. 

* BursuUa, a member of Zopf s Monadina, likewise forms its spores 
in air 

' The classification of the Euplasmodida here given is that of A. 
and G. Lister (22), the outcome of a careful study of the eroup 
extending over more than twenty-five years. The writer of this 
article desires to express his indebtedness to the opportunities he 
has had of becoming familiar with the work of his father, Mr A. Lister. 
F.R.S.. whose views on the affinities and life-history of the Mycetozoa 
he has endeavoured herein to summarize. 



MYCETOZOA 



LIFE-HISTORY OF THE MYCETOZOA 

Euri-iiiioDisi 

Wt my btfin ixir lurvcy of the lilc-hiitory u tbt poinl whin 
IlKlpom, bonwoncumnuofiir, tivt iHIIed among wcid«tlyril| 
viftublc millo ShninLiii whrn dry, ihty rapidly »blorb 




«( Ihe poaterior end, to oiw of which plnform ihapr and t 

V ^IJte" "hT^ ■'''" '''<™'.™ Sinllum >■ Jtvrtoptd «i 

Htied bitaiL , lenp'TwLUi'l to*Ih''re« 

/, Amoeboid piuH with Rtncled gf [he body- The minute 




 rtnly lounded (6t, i. rf) oi 

FiC-Jr — ZooApontof 0a^JtdMid enclooed in diBcttive vhuq 

f '•■« bju-liltf iirue- S«r the' bin"erd. "co" iSertble 

ipaiH of ,1<u>n>cbifUWdThii mjiy imoTnV'to'an 
|. though without the rhylhm chancteriatic at the 



Other ibipti n 



Attaching ii 



rf by tl 



Fio, 3.— Thiw •Ufa in 
diviiion of iha Zwpon 
Jluuklina Lycopiricit. 

Linn (il|. New light ha: 
by Finoy {it), who liu wg 



n ; or it may ulie an elongated 
ug'iike ihape end creep with the 
ifellum emended in (nnt, with 
ctile aiHJ ippaRDCly eicploratory 

lecie* o( the Endoiporcu rc!^m 
icieria has been thown by A. 

lieAy with Soropbon. in which. 



' Figum 1, «, and II-Il arr Iroin the briliih h^i 
the Briliih Mycclimia. The other figui 

Article Mycc.o^''.' 



PrDte&ja. Faabdc I 



minly ia the Mate of uolated amoebae. Plnoy findi thai liie 

amoebae of thii gnMp Live 00 particular tpeciei of bacteria, and tliat 
the preieDcc of the latter i* a n rc c m ry condition for Ibe develop- 
meni of the Sorophora. and even {m haa been rengoind by other 

ihokigh net » ecnclnkivriy. thai bacteria are UhewiK the eHemial 
ioDd of (he Euplaimodida in the early phaaei of tbeir life>hiiiary. 
granu™(Snille Kenl'lo!' '"*"" " '* "*■ '*" """^ 

The loofporea muhiply by binary Ahkhi. the fla^llun being 
withdrawn and (he nucleui undefvoini mitotic diviHOn, with the 

, -... ^ . _.„ — ,__, ... :. .-:-,... (Sg. 3,. . 




At the end of the looipote „ - ' UZh-- fJF^^?"^ 

frafa. TTie amocbulae become "-'. -^ r, O f) ^ 

endowed, ai wat fil.I reco.- \-' 1.1,' ^' A 

niHd by Cienltowild, iLii\ ^ ^ ^W 






verging The pr<>(oplainiic m^cn 



plaimodiuD and no fuiioi 
•uge Ito). Aa Ihe plain 



in «ae Sj- ih 

lofSaJihaiM 
certain fuv 
of a bright j 

-,.-,„., —^ -_ng (fhanneli, 

,. gradually lo«( ai they approach the nvnin where the 

proloplauB lorma  uniform and lobale herder. Eliewhere the 



ctf of an active ptaainodium of Badkcmia ulnndarv. 
n leen, livea and Iceda on certain fungi, ia ahirwii in 
La of a film of protoplaan, of a bright yellow colour, 
up to a foot or more in diuieter. Irialiavvraed 
sing channel!, which divide 
lacn the nuinin where the 




H of 5^i>iaria ofls. c 



MYCETOZOA 



miukr pnMoptum- Thii movcnienl u ibytbinai 
biflf ^BC te d lllFCIulFly towaidi Uk mupB gi 
RfDo td tlu pluiwdiuni, «nd aviy from Ji. A 



y jAuae to brtin in Ibe oppotite d 
[he durauM d( tbe Bow in ciihc 



Ite Adv cf Ihe prcKopUMn u 



, Wbca Ihc floif  nvmcd, the 

ttonk Ibe draiaace Any cf hi conloitL A i_ 
inrati tbe plumodium, ud a ApiHRiitly Iw tU 
iovHif in UK dunneU. The phenomeM of the 



rhydimlc movcintiH 

with Ihe view that Ibqr lOull 
1 Riatalian d( tht outer layer in 




llie chief miia r-  

tlw ntMf P>*HV plaioiodian. Tbeic Ea» boweveTi analber made 
ol Q ucl e ar uviwMi in tiie ptaimacUiun which haa hitherto hcen 
ebtemdia one recorded tiutance (i^np^uiKibe mitotic (fif. 6, (-/)» 
aad tin apfxan to befaQ all the nuclei of a plumodium nmul- 
lueoudy. What the relation oC there two model of nurlor diviaion 
m^ be to the liEe-biitorv ia obicurb 
Thn the aiaitoiic b the inual mode arnurlrardivirloniliildialed 

ud aliB hf tbe roDovini experiineni. A pUaiiiiidhim ol BtM4mit 
iinaivii iDnsdlB( over plecei of the langm ^unalata h> 
obteml lo Increaae in liiE about fourfold In louneen houii, and 
durii^ ihii tunc a ainaD Mmple w removed and italned every 
wiur of an boor. TIk faler itaininn ihowfd no diminution in 
the nmiber of nuclei in praportion to IBe_iiTotopbHi, and yet none 

^loid apprar tliciTf«r_i^ tbe niodc of increaae of the nuclei durini 



d a> of aj 

•ion. He 

j tbe Cilcaise.'iranul 



Id ibe group of the Cakareae, Branule* of c 
■bundani in the plaidodia. and in ali Mycttoi 



in different i peCiMi and may be ydhow* wliite, ^qk, purple or ^reeti- 
Tlw coiouri^ matter ii in the form of mlautt dropa, aod m the 
Calcareae thsB inveat tbe lime (ranulea. 
Kulrilim.— The plaamodian of AoMaaiia ulneiilani, advaadoc 



over the pild of tuitabtc f unci, fccdi in th 

tbe wall! of the hypliae (it)- Tbe p 



Itimately producing ^onnpt. in nutrient aolutiona (qJ> 

3pear therefore that the nutrition aS plaimodia ii eRectnj m pmti 

f Ibe inffcttion of iolid Eoodituffi. and in part by tlie abeorptioa 

material in tolution, and that there ia freat variety in the coat' 

leiity of tbe Hibatincea which aerve ai (heir food. 

^cfrrsliiin.— Aa tbe remit of dnxi^t, the ptaamodium. hivuic 

!come much rlcnier by loaa of water, paaaea into tbe icIcrgUBl 

,jndition. Drawing (cither inta t ^^ jtTrif^ j 

(hickilb layer, the pnHoplasm dividea if*>ja Bg S.?> -* 







lion of uie plaimodiuni of AiUBMia _ 

(.SUFnin. ifarKaJsru} h allowed to become ranially ity tbe plaa- 
modium drawi tocether and would, if drying were continued, ^av 

ium.lhelat • ' 



Rfdicedaoailo 



he latter, attiactrd 



Lhe plaamodium, me a 

uy (BE muiHurc. CI4WU on ede uiOttinf -pajKr. If tlut iaiiu>in»v¥m 

and allowed to dry rapidly, the plaimadium pain into icierocium 
on it.* By thia meanithe plamodium iiremovtdfRHnthemniilly 
ditintcfiatcd and decayed fuflfui « wiuch it hai been feeding, and 
a clean iclerothin ia obuined. which, aa above Rated, remain alive 
lor ynn {31.^ 7>. Aneaiy method for obtaiqipg Bnail i>la«Biodia 
for micmacopic examiriation ii to Kaiier imal] fra^menla. aciaped 

four haun imall pUimodia will be leen spreading on the cover-llipa 









ilhdrawt from the inieratia 
fed, and emerge* or " ' 
_. . . IntbecaKolSndfai 

.n%.^"fTi mtSe'of lormili. 



lation of the jpanwftdr 



rraSTa"^ 






.poranpia wiU 
1 in other fon 



marked. When <l 
lobe*, the eirrulati 
Meanwhile foreign bodici. lalren 

transparent lubitance which dri 
inveati the young sporangia, and 
falls tof^iher at their buci forming the * 

WhUe the" i^nfium-^l^i'i^'to'mi'nl °B 



in tolhp 

T lunacE a peincie of mucwd. 
as the iporangia ripen. Thii 



over the 
with the 








m tolK diviiicHi al ihc naila [•>) nrto iltti tlic tpstu ice facimd 
tiiiMuil)!. Thi. MS fim ducribcd by Slrnburgir {19). While [1 


Al^ 


^1 


^if w 


°.tW 




Fio. 11.— Wjiomjii niilaiu. 
a. Sporancri. 


tp«CS. 


l.Capilli<run.[hc«d<.>i>h[>3E. 
■""'hid r 'T"'""°"'fi 






mud 10) Ihc *%^»on or tkr pioiopl, 
hiv. UBdtrgoiw tKit divLion. T 
•boul tbe diughuc nucki to lonn 


and rruAu (illuilralcd infin.q 



Fio. i J.— Dii(;Miiiiii iffimtn. 

olWincryiial., «K).pn™. j, c.piUiiium .nd .pons., 
the conllnualiod at the n»niifium-waL1t {figi. ii and ta), but in 
Sumanitii ind il> allin (Agm. 17 and IS) it ii an aiiil xniclurc. 
cillier in HaUicd (Bi"'si S°iSiMfii. 1^'SSt •("'■"'P"". 




f 



Fio. ij.~Lampra^rma irlaeum Fic. iS-SumcnUu ipUnJtni 

a, SporanBia. a. Croupo(Sponiipi(nat. uc). 

b, A SpsnBtlum dcpriytd □( i. Portion ol columella ud tapil- 




Fic. li.—DUlydiiuii mmUicaltm. 

In CkmdriKfiTiiu [fig. 11) the wiU iidouble.lheinnHUyirbrina 
mimbrinou., tht oiiipr thickly encruiled *iih lime ennuln. in 
CtUnum ihc upper part ol the ipsrangium-wall i> lid-like and (alli 
mwiXi leaving Ihc ipofta in an open cup (Ag. 14J. 



MYCETOZOA 



LV be icfwnlly diwiibui 



tbioiihii^iD.i 

J IT k Mr~b« ■bn"iirrrBm""tfw~CTpiliHlBm iIufRhn. Tl 
^■d^ Mlaiu in fci|lii M dcvtkpaMit In Ibe Cilsacniiwi 

d^ tn. 9 *ad loj er aaUcdiuo  atOKAQif »)■ pnw 
R*r Sdmiiw U tlw Im of iplnl budi cr inunne bu 
TCTtkHb, .1-" ^- -"^ ^'- ' ' -- ' 



IM capilhiiia b ibwil ■ItoRtbM. 

, CM an dunctnunl by tfie l»o Ihil the hmc. 

vDiab pfBEBt in a rnnulu' iDnn in the plumadiuDi, u oepwivd 
 IK icauBiiB-wall in Ihe larm of ciyiub, cilber in ndiitini 
P^STuTorindiJaJii-iM- 




 Mn il ^Mnrnijfwjllt M be found in ti»ir Inleriat. They *re 
fOK te II gtlien ttey may be (oniial nde bi; tide viib Kpinle 



109 



KCnud, which, doHni'iii ibouc (he bi _ 

The minuu ntuM. bsine an ihe lUilk, bnoom itie dliuaid uor. 
eitrmuiKicd by tbe ifDre-neJI, In ihia manocr the whole oi the 
ptouplunk Hbuuce of the plunDdium i> onvcrtcd inlo ipam, 
bvae an eDpiBninf MnietuRt (itella and ipaciiphorH), which art 
formed by •centioD ot the pntopUio. 

tn Ihe CDune <4 Ibe deiiilopineBt ol which the eitciul iealuiei 
have DOW been traced nudcar diauca occur at which accoupli have 
been (iven by Jahn (14} and by Olive (14 and i;}. Jihn hu ikawn 
thai prior 10 the cieavaie of Ihe pfotoptaam a initgtK divitun of 
tbe nuclei tahet place, the dau^ter nuclei of whidi are thou 
occupyinB tlic protopUmic m«« icen in fie, » y After the 
tpote hai riaen on itt Kalk two [urtber mitotic dliriiioni occur h 
rapid ■ucceiiion. and the four-nuclea 
ol tlie tpore ol CtroJitmjD ^ '' 



[urtber mitotic 

.-,._ _ _ -. nucleated condilioo cnaracieiuiiG 

ol tlie tpore ol CtniitmyBi. b thxii attained- The tporTa.ontieini 
bnu^bc into water, nan biich ^fi|. ij. il), and the lour auclel 



nccted wHb tliFir Icllinn (fig. I], (-!}. On Kparatinc each »■ Em 

that hrre, ai In (h? ErdDspnrcoCt lliry muUipIv by binary diviiioni 
thnigh no »art obwrvatiDni of the procr^ have been reoofded. 

fuiion f^ the iailer [o form pLamodia hu not been dirtclly otwrvcd 
in OrofwHmd. allbouih irom analogy wilb tht Endi^porcae it 
c«4 hardiy^ doubted that uich Ijiiont occur. 



The So.oplran ol Zoiil (Acratiae ol Van Tiethem) ar 

ni; [hi: dui>K '^ b«biv<Drou< 



] 




^ Hilduaf fpQR. 
»*. ^U{n in the < 

bftf, undeifoea 



liouid Krial. '' Tiie latter 

lualty driei and (ormi inc 
cace«liji£ly delicate lupnori 

p( Ihe ol the tpom or ipBrnfimn 

a, each occupied by a tingle nucleui 



■o the Snrophora (joj, 
EW a/ On Ulc-llistariti ^ Ike i/yulssM.— The data for  



'Ji^ 



J he ihowa that only or 






MYCONIUS, F.- 




— an of tlw prtxo^im -, .- 



3"E'' 



Die M yuuuocn," Ztiiicia, /. vi 



IH Xcrptieioiy oni BioUsy o\ 
w, run^liiioii (OifonJ, Clare 



(,f?JpS^ 






No. 3 ("87i)- (11) M. Crmiwmd and E, R. Saundcti, 'lOn Ih. 
BoMritciilCoKIH, vnl, ]o. No. 4, p. 117 (iQoo). (ijl E. Jidn. " M)ii>- 



>07). (ISJ^.S.. 
dinih or Plinti 
(16) K. KiAniUi 



(17)X"U«« 



Jk/(Mu. miiiM," 



^IPEHiioaof 



B«nii>,vol.ii.No.s('«S«). (iBC'Oi 
by (be S^arm-Ccfli o( the Mycelo 

«v.4JJ(ia»9). liq)"OnIheD[™,. ,..., 

Jo.™. Z.iBn. 5oi. IBM.) vol. ni.. (iSqil. (30) " A Monoiraph of 
 he Myntoioa." Bnliik Mumm CiuJiit*t (London. iXul. (Il) 
" Pmidcniial Addrcsi 10 [hi Briilth Mycnlooral Sodciy" T'lni. 
Biu. Uycalaiinii Soc. (1906). (ii A, and C, Liiitr. " Synqnis d[ 
the Otdw.. Ocntm and Sptcies ot Myctloioj," jQunud ofaciavy. 



^._._^^^.™^ 



O^tT^Evid , 

Sonet, n-t. «v. 366 (Feb. 1907). (i;) " ' 
CerJiliamyu. Trail. Wi,CBn»n Aca4. ^ S,u 
vol. 1EV., p(. ii. p. 751 (Dec. 1907J. (26) £- Pini 
daniW tuvektppcmcrit denitaini Myxom^-c^ic* ^"r^ <.[ > in.j'j 
Partmr, T. xji. pp. 6ij and 686 (1007). (JT) H. Plcntc  I , I. 
die Veibindungen iwiehen CeiMlu. Kern bci dec Schunrmc 
D-llHid, MyH^roEoen." Verk.d. iMturhiit.-inaL Vereim xu Heutitlv 
N.F. Bd. vi. Hell i (r*»}. (18) S. von Prowaiek ■' Kmiveiindf 

B^Sv.'"[>. aj'M^S^fjBj'E. &™biir^™ ur EntlickelJo^ 

TiSBil. (to) R. Thanrr." On IheMyiat»»enadaE,iiie« order cj 

" Die Piiiihieie oder Schleitnpilic," Schenk'i Hamllmii dtt BeUi-i. 

(iBE7>. U.J.Lr.) 

■YCOHini, FRIBDRICH (i4«o-i546), Lutheran divine, «a 

bom on the 36lh o[ December 14^, al L(ch(cnfels on the Muln 

< In Ihe worl. tiled in the (ait footnote Jahn d«ribed a 'lg,i<.l 



tee 



a> piiboio(Kal, 



ITjUiv^iBTw'ihai'h; 
(.Udlolooferortht 



-MYDDELTON 

IK 10 proud usa al tlie word u il ippein in viriaui p[ice« 
1 Ihe Vulgate, Khcreai Mycooiug, Irom the iiland Myconui, 
ru  proverb ior meanneu. His ichosling wu in UchtCDfe!) 
■od M Annibcrg, where he had a memorable enoiunter wiih 
■be DominicaTi, Tttiel, hii point being that indulgence! should 
liven fauftribiLi palit. His tocher, SlaSebllin, penuided 
nloenlerCJuIy u, 1510) the Franciiean cloister. That same 
iwardi the 



Lutheran. Fron Aaaubcrg he paued ti 
al Leipiif and Weimar, nhere b 
I; he had endeavoured to MEiafy hi 



enlly r 



with icholutic 

Veinuit on hit way to Augsburg. For lii yean he preached 

utiy at Zoicliau, wbence he wii called lo Cotha (Aug. 1:14) 
by Duke John it the geninl desire. Here he married Margaret 
Jlckcn. a lady of good family. He was iniimaiely connected 
ilh the general progrcB of the reforming movement, and 
■I especially in the confidence of Luther. Twice he was 
itru>led(ljiSand isijiwitb Ibe ordering ol the churchn and 
school! in Thuringi*. In all tbe jTligioui diiputtlions utd 
conferences of the lime be look a leading part. At the Con- 
vention of Smalkatd (1S37) he signed the articles on his own 
behalf and that of his friend Justus Menius. In 1 5jS he was in 

Henry VUL on the basis of Ihe Augsburg Confession, to make 
common cause with the Lutheran reformation; a project which 
Myconius caustically ofuerved might have prospered on con- 
dition that Henry wu allowed to be pope. Neat year be wis 
employed In the auM of the Reformalioa in Leipiig. Not 
pan of his peraiaient work in Gothi w. 






of iti 



I of April iu,6. He 



id nine cbildien, four of whom were livini in 1J41. 

Though he published a guod many tracEi and pamphlets, Myroniua 

ss not dblincuisbed a> a wriler. His Jlui»u rifinwaliitii. 



T&:, 



BCiSI" 



(A. Co.*) 



Utmariam . . . (1710): C.R. G. LfflnmalBch. 
(181J); K. F. Udderhosi, F. UycmM (l» 
ittlsiki Biof. (1U6): O. ScKmidl and G 
RiaUnciUapidit (1903I, 

■TCOKIDS, OSWALD (1488-1551), Zwinglisn divine, was 
bom at Lucerne In 14S8. His family name was GtisshUsler; 
his lather was a milter; hence be was also called Moittobis. 
The name Myconius leems to have been given him by £ra.imus. 









called, a 



)l Holbe 






where (isiS) he sttafbed himself tr ... 

Zwingll. This led to his being Innslerred to Lucerne, and 
again (1513) reinstated al Zurich. On the death of Zwingli 
(i5]0 he migrated to Basel, and there held the o9ice of lawn's 
prtschei, and (till 1541) tbe chair of New Teslamenl exegesis. 
His spirit wsa comprehensive; in confessional matters he was for 
a union of all Protestants; though a Zwinglisn, his readiness 

him trouble with tbe Zwinglian stalwatti. He had, however, 
a distinguished foUowet in Theodore Bibtisnder. He died on 
the I4tb of October issi. 

Among his several ttictues, tbe noat Important is Ce H. Zmi*-"! 
wiu If ttila (I5J6). translated into Engliih by Henr- " 
(ijAl). See MeUuorAdan. ViUlbsIgfinm (--' 
holer. 0. Myaniiii (iS'l): K- B- Hagenbacb, J 
~" --ll8S9);F. M. Ledderhoir  ' " 



Myamiul |lSso);F. M. Ledi 
M6) ; B. Riggentisch and Egli, 



iKauFi 






Henry B ^. 

0);^M. Kireh- 



MTDDELTOX (or Mtdoleton), SIR HDOH,.B*rt. (c. 1560- 
i6ji), contractor of the New River scheme lor supplying London 
with water, was a younger son of Sir Richard Myddellon, 
governor of Denbigh Castle. Hugh became a successful London 



MYELAT— MYERS 



III 



foldsmitb, occupying a shop In Bassihaw, or Basinghall Street; 
he made money by commercial ventures on the Spanish main, 
being aasociAted in these with Sir Walter Raleigh; and he was 
also interested in cloth-making. He was an alderman, and then 
recorder of Denbigh, and was member of parliament for this 
borough from 1603 to 1628. In 1609 Myddelton took over from 
the corporatum of London the projected scheme for supplying 
the dty with water obtained from springs near Ware, in Hert- 
fordshire. For this purpose he made a canal about 10 ft. wide 
and 4 ft. deep and over 38 m. in length, which discharged its 
waters into a. reservoir at Islington called the New River Head. 
The completion of this great undertaking put a severe strain 
upon Mydddton's financial resources, and in 161 3 he was 
soccesaful in tecuzing monetary assistance from James I. The 
work was completed in 1 613 and Myddelton was made the first 
governor of the company, which, however, was not a financial 
success until after his death. In recognition of his services he 
was made a baronet in 1622. Myddelton was also engaged in 
working some lead and silver mines in Cardiganshire and in 
reclaiming a piece of the Isle of Wight from the sea. He died 
on the xoth of December 1631, and was buried in the church of 
St Matthew, Friday Street, London. He had a family of ten 
SODS and six daughters. 

One of Sir Hugh's brothers was Sir Thomas Myddelton 
(c. is50'i6si)f lord mayor of London, and another was William 
MydddUm (c. 1556-1621), poet and seaman, who died at Antwerp 
on the 37th of March 1621. 

Sir Thomas was a member of parliament under Queen Eliza- 
beth and was chosen lord mayor on the 2Qth of September 16 13, 
the day fixed for the opening of the New River. Under James I. 
and Charles L he represented the city of London in parliament, 
and he helped Rowland Heylyn to publish the first popular 
ecfition of the Bible in Welsh. He died on the 1 2th of August 
163X. Sir Thomas's son and heir, Sir Thomas Myddelton 
(1586-1666), was a meihber of the Long Parliament, being an 
adherent of the popular party. After the outbreak of the Civ^il 
War he served in Shropshire and in north Wales, gaining a 
signal Miccess over the royalists at Oswestry in July 1644, and 
another at Montgomery in the following September. In 1659, 
however, he joined the rising of the royalists under Sir George 
Booth, and in August of this year he was forced to surrender 
bis reydence. Chirk Castle. His eldest son, Thomas (d. 1663), 
was made a baronet in 1660, a dignity which became extinct 
when William the 4th baronet died in 17 18. 

HTELAT. a division of the southern Shan States of Burma, 
iocloding sixteen states, none of any great size, with a total 
area of 3723 sq. m., and a population in 1901 of 119,415. 
The name properly means " the unoccupied country," but it 
has beesi occupied for many centuries. All central Myelat and 
great parts of the northern and southern portions consist of 
roDiog iprassy downs quite denuded of jungle. It has a great 
variey of different races, Taungthus and Danus being perhaps 
the mo^ numerous. They are all more or less hybrid races. The 
ckkfs of the Myelat are known by the Burmese title of gwegunk- 
mu, ijc chiefs paying the revenue in silver. The amount 
pa«i by the chiefs to the British government is Rs. 99,567. 
The largest state, Loi L6ng, has an area of 1600 sq. m., a great 
part of which is barren hills. The smallest, Nam Hkon, had no 
more than 4 sq. m., and has been recently absorbed in a neigh- 
booring state. The majority of the states cover less than 
100 sq. m. Under British administration the chiefs have powers 
of a magistrate of the second class. The chief cultivation 
besides rice is sugar-cane, and considerable quantities of crude 
sugar are exported. There is a considerable potato cultivation, 
vhicfa-can be indefinitely extended when cheaper means of 
export are provided. Wheat also grows very well. 

■TELITI8 (from Gr. /wcXir, marrow) a disease which by 
isfianunation induces destructive changes in the tissues com- 
poaiag the spinal cord. In the acute variety the nerve elements 
ia tlie affected part become disintegrated and softened, but 
Rpatr may take place; in the chronic form the change is slower, 
and t|ie ^**«*««"^ area tends tp.becomc denser (sclerosed), the 



nerve-substance being replaced by connective tissue. Myelitis 
may affect any portion of the spinal cord, and its symptoms and 
progress will vary accordingly. Its most frequent site is in 
the lower part, and its existence there is marked by the sudden 
or gradual occurrence of weakness of motor power in the legs 
(which tends to pass into complete paralysis), impairment or 
loss of sensibility in the parts implicated, nutritive changes 
affecting the skin and giving rise to bed-sores, together with 
bladder and bowel derangements. In the acute form, in which 
there is at first pain in the region of the spine and much con- 
stitutional disturbance, death may take place rapidly from 
extension of the disease to those portions of the cord connected 
with the muscles of respiration and the heart, from an acute 
bed-sore, which is very apt to form, or from some intercurrent 
disease. Recovery to a certain extent may, however, take 
place; or, again, the disease may pass into the chronic form. 
In the latter the progress is usually slow, the general health 
remaining tolerably good for a time, but gradually the strength 
fails, the patient becomes more helpless, and ultimately sinks 
exhausted or is cut off by some complication. The chief 
causes of myelitis are injuries or diseases affecting the spinal 
column, extension of inflammation from the membranes of the 
cord to its substance (see MENiNcms), exposure to cold and 
damp, and occasionally some pre-existing constitutional morbid 
condition, such as syphilis or a fever. Any debilitating cause or 
excess in mode of life will act powerfully in predisposing to this 
malady. The disease is most common in adults. The treatment 
for myelitis in its acute stage is similar to that for spinal 
meningitis. When the disease is chronic the most that can be 
hoped for is the relief of symptoms by careful nursing and 
attention to the condition of the body and its functions. Good 
is sometimes derived from massage and the use of baths and 
douches to the spine. 

MYERS. FREDERIC WILUAM HENRY (1843-1901). English 
poet and essayist, son of Frederic Myers of Keswick — author of 
Lectures on Great Men (2856) and Catholic Thoughts (first collected 
1873), ^ ^>o6k marked by a most admirable prose style — was born 
at Keswick, Cumberland, on the 6th of February 1843, and edu- 
cated at Cheltenham and Trinity College, Cambridge, where he 
won a long list of honours and in 1865 was appointed classical 
lecturer. He had no love for teaching, which he soon discon- 
tinued, but he took up his permanent abode at Cambridge in 
1872,' when he became a school inspector under the Education 
Department. Meanwhile he published, in 1867, a^ unsuccessful 
essay for the Seatonian prize, a poem entitled St Paul, which met 
at the hands of the general public with a success that would be 
difficult to explain, for it lacks sincerity and represents views 
which the writer rapidly outgrew. It was followed by small 
volumes of collected verses in 1870 and 1882: both are marked 
by a flow of rhetorical ardour which culminates in a poem of 
real beauty, " The Renewal of Youth," in the 1882 collection. 
His best verse is in heroic couplets. Myers is more likely to 
be remembered by his two volumes of Essays, Classical and 
Modern (1883). The essay on Virgil, by far the best thing he 
ever wrote, represents the matured enthusiasm of a student and 
a disciple to whom the exquisite artificiality and refined culture 
of Virgil's method were profoundly congenial. Next to this in 
value is the carefully wrought essay on Ancient Greek Oracles 
(this had first appeared in Hellenica). Scarcely less delicate 
in phrasing and perception, if less penetrating in insight, is the 
monograph on Wordsworth (1881) for the " English Men of 
Letters " series. In 1882, after several years of inquiry and 
discussion, Myers took the lead among a small band of explorers 
(including Henry Sidgwick and Richard Hodgson, Edmund 
Gumey and F. Podmore), who. founded the society for Psychical 
Research. He continued for many years to be the mouthpiece 
of the society, a position for which his perfervidum ingenium, 
still more his abnormal fluency and alertness, admirably fitted 
him. He contributed greatly to the coherence of the society 
by steering a mid-course between extremes (the extreme sceptics 
on the one hand, and the enthusiastic spiritualists on the 
other), and by helping to sift and revise the cumbrous mass of 



resullili 



112 



Frecudints, the cfaicf concrcie : 

WjhIojmj aj l*t Lirini (1886), lo -nitn nc tomnnuica uiE m- 
iroduction. Like many ihcomis, he hid a ficuliy loi ignaring 
hini lacii, and in his aniiely to geatnMit pkiuibly upon the 
»lleged data, and to hammer out Itrikinf foimulae, hLi insight 
into the reaJ character of the Fvidence may have left Hmelhing 
10 be desired. Hi: long leiiei of pipen on subliminal conicioui- 

called tf K>«iii Pcsomlily and Us Sunitat of Budily Dcaih (i vols. 
190J), consiituie hia own chief contribution lo psychical theory. 
This, u he Umsell would have been the fini ID admit, was little 
moie than provisional ; but Professor Willijuii JomH hai pointed 
out that the series of papers on subliminal consdouinesi is " the 
first altcfnpl lo consider the phenomena ol billucinilion, 

connected puts of one whole lubjed." The list work published 
in his lifetime wu a imiU collection of essays, Sciaici dud a 
Pulure Life (1B9J). He died it Rome on (be i;th of January 
1901. but was buried in his native toil It Keswick. 

NVIKOTAM, a district in the Meiktila division of Upper 
Burma. It lies in the valley of the Imwiddy, to the south of 
Mindilay, on the east baiJ: of the river. Area, nn tq. m. 
Pop. (iqoi), )56,<>53. showing an increase of 1 % in the decade 
and a densily of 114 inhabitants lo the square mile. The greater 
part of Ihe district is flat, especially to the north and along ihe 
banks of the Irrawaddy. Inland the country rises in genily 
undulating alopei. The most noticeable feature is Pops hill, 
an eiiioct volcano, in ihe south-eastern comer of the district. 
The highen peak is 496] ft. above sea-level. The cUmale is dry 
and heBlihy, with high south winds from March lilt September. 
The annual cainloU averages about 35 in. The temperature 
varies between ie&* and 70° F. The ordinary crops are millet, 



MYINGYAN— MYLODON 



.. Thed 



.whole is 



3I Ihe old irrigation tanks had fallen into 
inneiation. There ire no forests, but a gri 
The Ucquer ware of Nyiung-u and other v 
noted throughout Bun 
Inhabit Myingyan 



. r^oi of i6,r: 



II is II 



dent Burma, 
HYITKTINA, the 



Ind. 



n Mindalay 10 Ri 
rawaddy FlolilU. Company also ci 
chine was erected here in the I 
nd itiU ei' 



il nanhcily of the districts of Upper 
tiuima m tne Minaauy division, separated from Bhamo district 
in iSgs. It is cut up into strips by comparatively law parallel 
ranges of hills running in a general way north Ind south. The 
chief pilin is that of Myilkyini, covering 600 K). m. To the 
east of the Irrawaddy, which bisects the district, it is low-lying 
and manhy. To the west it rises 10 a higher level, and is mostly 
dry. Eicept in the hills inhabited by the Kichin tribes there 
are practically no villages oFI the line of Ihe Irrawaddy. The 

lies in Ibe south-west of the district. A very small amount of 
cultivaiion is carried on, mostly irilhout irrigalion. Area, 
slimated population (1901) 6], 






. More than 



ibabit the hills on both sides of the Imwaddy. 
The beadquiTtCTS town, MnTKviN*, had in 1901 a population of 
j6i8. It is Ihe limit of navigation on the Irrawaddy, ind tbe 
terminus ol the railway from Rangoon and Sagiing. 

MYLODOB (Cr. for " mill-tooth " from tivXui and ASoio), 1 
genus of eitincl American cdentite mammals, typiAed by a 
species [Si. Iathn!\ from (he Pleistocene of Kentucky and other 

the corresponding fortnalions of South America, especially 
Argentina and Brazil. The mytodons belong lo Ihe group ol 
grDund-stoths. and are generally included in the family tfrfiilt- 



From Uif 



n these animals, wbid 



rivalled tbe India 



resembling those of the true 
of the nst and has the 1 



)wn-suiface, thus 
hs. In cenaip species of mylodon 
,w is placed some distance in front 
a lurisce ohhqutly bevelled by 




1 is shorter and lower than in UciOlarimm 
vertical expansion of the middle of the lower jiw, 
I ilso eiiend neirly to (he front of the jawi; bolh 
1 being sbih-like. In the fore feet the three inner 
(e claws, while the two outer ones ire rudimentiry 
in Ihe hind-limbs tbe lirsl toe is wanting, as in 
but tbe second and third are clawed. The skin 
med by a number of small deeply-embedded bony 



Altho 


ugh the typical U. korhni is 


North American, the 


mytodona are essenliilly a South Amen 


an group, a few of (he 


represe 




Jice into North America 


when thai continent became finally 




Amerie 


Spetial interest attaches 10 


he recent discovery in 






Ihigen 


us aaisolkaium. or GfypMlun 


iin, a near relalive of 


M^o 


. hut diFlering from il in having 




the nasi 


1 bones of Ihe skull with the pr 


maiillae; these include 




erable portion of Ibe skin n 


ih the hair atiiched. 


Ossicles 


somewhat resembling large 


oflee-berrics had been 


previou 


ly found in association with the 


»nesoltf,^«f«,andin 


Ch»elk 


lium nearly similar ossicles 


cur embedded on (he 


inner side of tbe thick hide. The coa 


rse and dtaggy hair is 


somewl 


at like that of ihe slolhs. The 


remains, which include 



only the skeleton and sk 
found buried in grass which appears to have 
up by man, and i( thus seems not only evidi 
ground-sloths dwelt in the cave, bui thai there is 

caled sUle by the early human inhabitants of P»l»goni». The 
eilremely fresh condition of (he remains has given rise to the 
idea that GossoAerittm may still be living in the wilds ol 

Si^idoiliiriiiM is another ttnui of large South American Plcuto- 
cene ground-slot hi. characlcrind, amone other feature*, by (he 
elonfaiion and s^ndcrneu ol the sVuU. which thus make* a decided 
approKimaiian (0 the anica(er type, akbou^h retaining the full 
wriem of cheeh-leeth, which were, of cwrse. csKnIial to an herbl- 
voroui animal. The feet resemble Ihoie of Uttiuktrimm. A much 
smaller South American species represents the nnut Nelliretlnriiim^ 

In North America Uyliden was accompsnicd by another gigantic 
species typifyiiw the genus Jtfeio/eiiyK. in which the fore part of (he 
skull wai uiually wide, and the third and ff'unh front toes caTTied 
eLaws. Aoothcr genus hat been described fiom the PleisiDCent 



MYLONITE— MYRA 



"3 



ol Ndmska, as Panm;ileian\ it lia> only four pain of teeth, and an 
doi^ace skull with an inflated mtizde. All the above genera differ 
from MemOktrimm in liavtng a foramen on the inner side of the tower 
cad of the hunacnis. A presumed Urge ground-sloth from Mada- 
gascar has been described, on the evidence of a limb-bone, as Brady^ 
Ikmam, but it is suggested by Dr F. Ameghino that the specimen 
really bcfef^ to a lemuroid. Be thn as it may, the North American 
nammals described as Merofius and Morotkeriumt in the bdief that 
thtf were ground-sloths, are really referable to the ungulate group 



Aacylopoda. 

Aobough a few of the Pleistocene ground-sloths, such as Notkro- 
fui and rietkroAtrium {^CododoH)^ were of comparatively small 
ne, in tlie Santa Cnu beds of Patagonia few of the representatives 
o( the family much caiceeded a lUMem sloth in sise. The best- 
known genenc types are Ett c kolo e oOs, Hapalops and Pseudakapaiops^ 
of which considerable portions of the skeleton have been disinterred, 
la these diminutive ground-sloths the crowns of the cheek-teeth 
appraadied the prismatic form characteristic of Mt^teyherium, 
ai distiiK^ from the subcylindrical type occurring m Mylcdon, 

B]^ many palaeontologists a noup of North American Lower 
Tenary mammals, known as Canodonta, has been regarded as 
representing the ancestral stock of the ground-sloths and those of 
ouer Sooth American edentates; but according^ to Professor W. B. 
Scott this view is incorrect and there is no affinity between the two 
graaps. If this be so, we are still in complete oarkness as to the 
ttock from which the South American edentates are derived. 

See W. B. Scott, Mammalia ef the Santa Cna Beds, Edentata, 
Rep., PrxDoeton Exped. to Patagonia, vol. v. (1903-1904) ; B. Brown 
it New Gemms of Ground-Slctk from Ike Pleistocene of Nebraska, 
BiilL Amcr. Mua. Nat. Hist., xix, 569 (1903). (R. L.*) 

ITLOHRB (Gr. foKSv, a mill), in petrology, a rock which has 
beea crushed and ground down by earth movement and at the 
same time rendered compact by pressure. Mylonites are fine- 
grained, sometimes even flinty, in appearance, and often banded 
ia paralkl fashion with stripes of varying composition. The 
great majority are qiiartxose rocks, such as quartaite and quarts- 
sdurt; bat in almost any type of rock mylonltic structure may 
be developed. Gneisses of various kinds, hornblende-schists, 
chkrite-sdiists and limestones are not infrequently found in 
bdu of mykmitic rock. The process of crushing by which 
BykNutes are formed is known also as " granulitization " and 
" catadasis," and mylonites are often described as granulitcs, 
tho«^ the two terms are not strictly equivalent in all their 
applications. Mylonites occur in regions where there has 
been ooosiderable metamorphism. Thrust planes and great 
levetxd faults are often bounded by rocks which have all been 
cnahed to fine slabby mylonites, that split readily along planes 
panOd to the direction in which movement has taken place. 
These '* crash-belts " may be only a few feet or several hundred 
yards broad. The movements have probably taken place slowly 
vithoat great me of temperature, and hence the rocks have not 
teciystalli»d to any extent. 

Cmahiog and movement on so extensive a scale are to be expected 
principally in regions consisting of rocks greatly foldeo and 
caopcesaed. Hence mylonites are commonest in Archean regions, 
bet may be found also in Carboniferous and later rocks where the 
aeoeanry conditions have prevailed. Within a short space it is 
often pTsriMr to trace rocks from a normal to a highly mylonised 
csadkiDii, and to foUow by means of the microscope all the stages 
of the p roces s . A sandstone, grit, or fine <iuartaose conglomerate, 
(or example, when it approaches a mylonttic zone begins to lose 
tts dastic or pebbly structure. The rounded grains of quartz 
beoomc cracked, especially near their edges, and are then surrounded 
by aarrow borders, consisting of detached granules: this b dueto the 
pdables being pressed together and forced to pun one another as the 
rack yiekfo to the prenures which overcome its rigidity. Then each 

rrtz grain breaJcs up into a mosaic of little angular fragments; 
rounded pebbles are flattened out and become lenticular or cake- 
ihaped- Finally only a small oval patch of fine intertocking quartz 
p»aaa is left to todiote the position of the pebble, and if the matrix 
B qaartAMe this gradually blends with it and a uniform fine-grained 
qartaese rock results. If felspar b present it may becnroe crushed 
hkg quartz, but often tends to recrystallize as quartz and muacovite, 
the miaute Kales of white mica being parallel to the foliation or 
haiwfiag of the rock, and a findy granulitic or mylonitic quarts- 
sdast » the product. In homblendic rocks, such asepioiorite, 
ai^ihibolite and hornblende-schist, the mineral compodtion may 
Raaia aadias^^, but very often chk>rite, carbonates and biotite 
develop, epidote and aphene bdng also frequent. Biotite- and mus- 
cgvifee-giiaeases yield very |>erfect mybmtes, in which the micas 
ha«e parallrf orientation, giving the rock a flat banding and marked 
whistosity (see Pitrolocy. Ft iv., fig. 6). When these mybnitic 

XXX 3 



gneisses contain pink garnet (often with kyanite or silUmanite) 
they pass into noiinal gnnulites; limestones, if fossiliferous, become 
changed into findy crystalline mames, often fissile, sometimes with 
lenticular or aafm structure. An interesting variety of mylonite, 
devekipcd in granite-porphyry and gndas, b fine, dark and almost 
vitreous in appearance, consbting rnainly of very minute grains of 

Jiuarts and Tebpar and resembling flint in appearance. These 
orm threads and vdn-Iike streaks ramifying tnrough the normal 
rocks. Examples are furnished by the flinty<rushes of west Scot- 
land and the '^ trap-shotten " gnebses of south India. (J. S. F.) 

HTIIBMSIlfOH. or Maxkansingh, a dbtrict of British Indui, 
in the Dacca division of Eastern Bengal and Assam. It occupies 
a portion of the alluvial valley of the Brahmaputra east of the 
main channel (called the Jamuna) and north of Dacca. The 
adminbtrativc headquarters are at Nasirabad, sometimes called 
Mymensingh town. Area, 6333 sq. m. Pop. (zpoi), 3,9x5,068, 
showing an increase of 1 3*8% in the decade. The diistrict b 
for the most part levd and open, covered with well-cultivated 
fields, and intersected by numerous riven. The Madhupur 
jungle b a slightly elevated tract, extending from the north of 
Dacca dbtrict into the heart of Mymensingh; its average height 
is about 60 ft. above the level of the surrounding country, and it 
nowhere exceeds xoo ft. The jungle contains abundance of sOl, 
valuable both as timber and for charcoal. The only other elevated 
tract in the district b on the southern border, where the Susang 
hiUs rise. They are for the most part covered with tUck thorny 
jungle, but in parts are barren and rocky. The Jamuna forms 
the western boundary of Mymensingh for a course of 94 m. It b 
navigable for large boats thrqughout the year; and during the 
rainy season it expands in many places to 5 or 6 m. in breadth. 
The Brahmaputra enters Mymensingh at its north-western 
corner near Karaibari, and flows south-east and south till it 
joins the Meghna a little bdow Bhairab Bazar. The gradual 
formation of ckars and bars of sand in the upper part of its course 
has diverted the main volume of water into the present channd 
of the Jamuna, which has in consequence become of much more 
importance than the Brahmaputra proper. The Meghna only 
flows for a short distance through the south-east portion of 
the dbtrict, the eastern and south-eastern parts of which 
abound in marshes. The staple crops of the cotmtry are rice, 
jute and oil-seeds. A branch line of the Eastern Bengal railway 
runs north from Dacca through Nasirabad, &c., to the Jamuna. 
The dbtrict was severely affected by the earthquake of the 
1 2th of June 1897. 

MYNOS, SIR CHRISTOPHER (1635-1666), Britbh admiral, 
came of a Norfolk family. Pepys' story of his humble birth is 
said to be erroneous. It is probable that he saw a good deal of 
sea-service before 1648. He first appears prominently as the 
captain of the " Elisabeth," which after a sharp action brought 
in a Dutch convoy with two men-of-war as prizes. From 1653 
to 1655 he continued to command the " Elisabeth," high in 
favour with the council of state and recommended for promotion 
by the flag oflicers under whom he served. In 1655 he was 
appointed to the " Marston Moor," the crew of which was on the 
verge of mutiny. Hb firm measures quelled the insubordinate 
spirit, and he took the vessel out to the West Indies, where he 
remained for some years. The Restoration government retained 
him in hb command, and in 1664 he was made vice-admiral in 
Prince Rupert's squadron. As vice-admiral of the White he flew 
hb flag at Lowestoft in 1665, and for his share in that action 
received the honour of knighthood. In the following year he 
served under the new lord high admiral, Sandwich, as vice- 
admiral of the Blue. He was on detachment with Prince Rupert 
when the great Four Days' Battle began, but returned to the 
main fleet in time to take part, and in thb action he recdved a 
wound of which he died. 

MYONEMES, in Infusoria and some Flagellates, the differ- 
entiated threads of ectosarc, which are contractile and doubly 
refractive, performing the function of muscular fibres in the 
Mctazoa. 

MYRA (mod. Dembre), an andent town of Lyda situated a 
short dbtance inland between the rivers Myrus and Andracus. 
In common with that of most other Lycian towns its early hbtory 

xo. 



114 



MYRIAPODA— MYRRH 



ir not known, and it does not pUy any part of importance in 
either GsDek or Roman annals. Its fame begins with Chris- 
tianity. There St Paul touched on his last journey westward 
(a.d. 62), and changed into " a ship of Alexandria, sailing into 
Italy." In the 3rd century the great St Nicholas, bom at 
Patara, was its bbhop, and he died and was buried at Myra. His 
tomb u still shown, but his relics are supposed to have been trans- 
lated to Ban in Italy in the nth century. Theodosius II. made 
Myra the Byzantine capital of Lycia, and as such It was besieged 
and taken by Harun al-Rashid in 808. The town seems shortly 
afterwards to have decayed. A small Turkish village occupied 
the plain at the foot of the acropolis, and a little Greek monastery 
lay about a mile westward by the church of St Nicholas. The 
latter has formed the nucleus of modern Dembre, which has 
been increased by settlers from the Greek island of Castel6rizo. 
Myra has three notable sights, its carved cliff-cemetery, its 
theatre, and its church of St Nicholas. The first is the most 
remarkable of the Lydan rock-tomb groups. The western scarp 
of the acropolis has been sculptured into a number of sepulchres 
imitating wooden houses with pillared facades, some of which 
have pediment reliefs and inscriptions in Lycian. The theatre 
lies at the foot of this cliff and is partly excavated out of it, 
partly built. It is remarkable for the preservation of its corri- 
dors. The auditorium is perfect in the lower part, and the 
scena sUIl retains some of its decoration— both columns and 
carved entablature. The church of St Nicholas lies out in 
the plain, at the western end of Dembre, near a small monastery 
and new church recently built with Russian money. Its floor 
is far below the present level of the plain, and until recently the 
church was half filled with earth. The excavation of it was 
undertaken by Russians about 1894 and it cost Dembre dear; 
for the Ottoman government, suspicious of foreign designs on 
the neighbouring harbour of KikoVa, proceeded to inhibit all 
sale of property in the plain and to place Dembre under a minor 
state of siege. The ancient church is of the domed basilica 
form with throne and seats still existent in the tribunal. In 
the south aisle as a tomb with marble balustrade which is pointed 
out as that wherein St Nicholas was laid. The locality of the 
tomb is very probably genuine, but its present ornament, m 
well as the greater part of the church, seems of later date (end 
of 7th century ?). None the less this is among the most interest- 
ing early Christian churches in Asia Minor. There are also 
extensive ruins of Andriaca, the port of Myra, about 3 m. west, 
containing churches, baths, and a great grain store, inscribed 
with Hadrian's name. They lie along. the course of the Andraki 
river, whose navigable estuary is still fringed with ruinous 
quays. 

See E. Petersen and F. v. Luschan, JUisen in Lykien, 6fc. (1889). 

(D. G. H.) 

MTRIAPODA (Gr. for " many-legged "). arthropod animals 
of which centipedes and millipedes are familiar examples. 
Linnaeus included them in his Insecta Aptera together with 
Crustacea and Arachnida; in 1796 P. A. Latreille designated 
them as Myriopoda, making of them, along with the Crustacean 
Oniscus, one of the seven orders into which he divided the 
Aptera of Linnaeus. Later on J. C. Savigny, by study of the 
mouth-parts, clearly distinguished them from Insects and Crus- 
tacea. In 18x4 W. £. Leach defined them and divided them into 
Centipedes and Millipedes. In 1825 Latreille carried further 
the observations of Leach, and suggested that the two groups 
were very distinct, the millipedes being nearer Cnistacea and 
the centipedes approaching Arachnida and Insecta. Although 
Latreille's suggestion has not been adopted, it is recognized that 
centipedes and millipedes are too far apart to be united as 
Myriapoda, and they are now treated as separate classes of 
the Arthropoda. See Centipeoe (ChUopoda) and Milupeob 
(Diplopoda). 

MTRMIDONES, in Greek legend, an Achaean race, in Homeric 
times inhabiting Phthiotis in Thessaly. According to the andent 
tradition, their original home was Aegina, whence they crossed 
over to Thessaly with Peleus, but the converse view is now 
more generally accepted. Their name is derived from a supposed 



ancestor, son of Zeus and Eurymedusa, who was wooed by the 

god in the form of an ant (Gr. fibpiai^)i or from the repeopling 

of Aegina (when all its inhabitants had died of the plague) with 

ants changed into men by Zeus at the prayer of Aeacus, king of 

the islands The word " myrmidon " has passed into the 

En^ish language to denote a subordinate who carries out the 

orders of his superior without mercy or consideration for others. 

See Stnbo viii. 375, tx. 433 ; Homer, Iliads ti. 681 ; ichoL on Pindar 
Nem. lit. 21 ; Clem. Alex., Protrepiiamt p. 34, ed. Potter. . 

MYROBALANS, the name given to the astringent fruits of 
several spedes of Terminaliat largely used in India for dyeing 
and tanning and exported for the same purpose. They are 
large deciduous trees and belong to the family Combretaceae. 
The chief kinds are the chebulic or black myrobalan, from 
Terminalia Chebula, which are smooth, and the beleric, from 
T. bderica, which are five-angled and covered with a greyish 
down. 

MYRON, a Greek sculptor of the middle of the 5th century B.C. 
He was bom at Eleutherae on the borders of Boeotia and Attica. 
He worked almost exclusively in bronze: and though he made 
some statues of gods and heroes, his fame rested prindpally upon 
his representations of athletes, in which he made a revolution, by 
introdudng greater boldness of pose and a more perfect rhythm. 
His most famous works according to Pliny {Nat. Hist.f 34, 57) 
were a cow, Ladas the runner, who fell dead at the moment of 
victory, and a discus-thrower. The cow seems to have earned 
its fame mainly by serving as a peg on which to hang epigrams, 
which tell us nothing about the pose of the animal. Of the 
Ladas there is no known copy. But we are fortunate in pos- 
sessing several copies of the discobolus, of which the best is in 
the Massimi palace at Rome (see Greek Ast, PI. iv. fig. 68). 
The example in the British Museum has the head put on wrongly. 
The athlete is represented at the moment when he has swung 
back the discus with the full stretch of his arm, and is about to 
hurl it with the full weight of his body. The head should he 
turned back toward the discus. 

A marble figure in the Lateran Museum (see Greer Art, 
PI. iii. figJ 64), which is now restored as a dancing satyr, is 
almost certainly a copy of a work of Myron, a Marsyas desirous 
of picking up the flutes which Athena had thrown away (Pausa- 
nias, L 24, i). The full group is copied on coins of Athens, on 
a vase and in a relief which represent Marsyas as oscillating 
between curiosity and the fear of the displeasure of Athena. 

The ancient critics say of Myron that, while he succeeded 
admirably in giving life and motion to his figures, he did not 
succeed in rendering the emotions of the mind. This agrees 
with the exunt evidence, in a certain degree, though not per- 
fectly. The bodies of his men are of far greater excellence than 
the heads. The face of the Marsyas is almost a nuuk; but from 
the attitude we gain a vivid impressbn of the passions which 
sway him. The face of the discus-thrower is calm and unruffled ; 
but all the musdes of his body are concentrated in an effort. 

A considerable number of other extant works are ascribed to 
the school or the influence of Myron by A. Furtwingler in his 
suggestive Master ^eces of Grtek Sculpture (pp. 168-219). These 
attributions, however, are anything but certain, nor do the 
arguments by which Furtwingler supports his attributions bear 
abridgment. 

A recently discovered papyrus from Egypt informs us that 
Myron made statues of the athlete Hjnanthes, victorious at 
Olympia in 456 B.C., and of Lydnus, victorious in 448 and 444. 
This helps us to fix his date. He was a oontemporaxy, but a 
somewhat older contemporary, of Phddias and Polyclitua. 

(P.G.) 

MYRRH (from the Lathuzed form myrrha of Gr. i»b^^\ the 
Arabic murr, bitter, was applied to the substance from its 
bitterness), a gum-resin highly esteemed by the andents as an 
unguent and perfume, used for incense in temples and also in 
embalming. It was one of the gifts offered by, the Magi, and a 
royal oblation of gold, frankincense and myrrh is still annu« 
ally presented by the soverdgn on the feast of Epiphany 
in the Chapel Royal in London, this custom having t»een in 



MYRTLE— MYSIA 



BJtePtt (Xtulnly u tariy u Ibe men o( Edmnl I.' Ttue 
Bjirt is the product of gab a iJtuirw (CsuniKftara) Uyrrka, 
-^ o( the ' ■" ■■^- ^- 



Mlcni Africa ind Anbia, bat [b 
nrini obuiDcd'tram otbd ipcciei < 

I. Boom Btl, Bhaa Btl or fliun J 
I^i mablH tm* nyrrh in ftpprani 
tate ukd k nicdr bitter^ l( ia uhI i 



a1»> ippUcd 

djHStvsblf 



^Hi ta nlla* {ji Opaqm 
vin ■balm whh vttti ittrt 

ud by tbe ran to whitni l> 
B Banbsir, and vu [ormci 

Jntjirt Hid biiH bol, bMb 
lidka dnif FWf" "buii^ 



bdcUium pmduDcd by S. Flajfaiti 
t ji ilivKt but permanent Uiher, and o 



lelliiim, probably idcnti 
SindaailBiliichiiUBin 
a dark mldiih colour. 



»1 Ir 






 nddiib-btova colour. The innsvene fiaclUR hai 
laimB appcannce wiib while itreaki; the flavour Is billi 
ud uomaljc, and (be ocfour characlcristic. ll (OptiiU of 
minun of nau, lUin and OKnlial «l. the rain bcini prescat I 
ibcaiiol of 15 10 40%, with 1) la 8% of Ihe oil, myirhoi, I 

Mynh hai the propertia ol olher HbUancc* vUch. like ii 
coauiB a volatile oil. Iti only imponanl n^^ilication in med 
dac ii aa a canninalivc to kiien Ihe gripiof cauied by loni 
parptivii nch ai aloei. Tbc volalile oUl have foi ceoluric 
ken Raided ai ol value in disorden of Ibe reproducUv 
«iu*, and the icpulation ol niyrrh in this coDnenon ia aimpl 




I, but ahnyi imall. timpk, daii-gnen, Ihkk Id tei- 

c, lad (todded witb niuDcnnii rcceplacla for oil. When Ihe 

lof B bekl 19 to the li^ II appeen ai if perforated i>tib pin- 

'lapfifjinai a*ln-niiilaltiit teritniai E4w. I. (London, 



botca owing to Ibe tnnilucency of tbeie oi1-cyi(L The fragrance 
of (he plant depends upon Ibe proence oi thii oil. Another 
peculiarity ol the myrtle ii the eiialencc of 1 prominenl vein 
runnini round the leal wiLhio tbe nwrglii. The Sowcii are 
borne on ihort ualki in tbe aiili of the leave*. The 0oiier-nalk 
is dilated at lis i^ipei end into a globoie or ovoid receptacle 
enclosng tbe 2- lo 4-partitiDned ovaiy. From iti maipn pro> 
ceed the five Kpali. and within Ihem the five rounded, ^nou' 
ihaped, spreading, white petals. Tbc stamens ^mng from the 
receptacle within the petals and are very numerous, each consist- 
anther. The ttyle lurmountlng tbe oviry is slender, tcnninsting 
in a small builon-like •tigna. Tbe Iruit i) a piupliA beny, 
con^ting ol the recepude and Ihe ovary blended into one 
(ucoilent inveatment enclosing very numerous mioutc leedl. 
The embryo-plant wilbin the seed is usually curved. In cultiva- 
tion many varieties are Itnown, depetulent on variations in the 
siae and shape of the leaves, tbe presence of so-called double 
ftowen. &c- The typical species is quite hardy in tbe soulh ol 
England. Tbc Chilean qiedcs, it, Upii,  shrub with ovate, 
dark green leaves and white fiowera luneeded by globular red or 
black glassy fruit with > pleasant smell and tasle, is a greenhouse 
shrub, bardy in south-west Britain. The cooimoti niyitle is 
tbc sole representaiive io Europe of a Urge geou* which has iis 
headQuatters In eilra-trc^cal South America, whilst other 
members are found in Auslrah'a and New Zealand. The genus 

Myrtaceae, the genera] jSoral struci 






cribed, b 






vessel according as it b dry or 
capsular, dehiscent, indehiscenl or pulpy; minor diflcrellcaeiiH 
according 10 the way io which the stamens an ainngtd. Tbe 
aramsticoU to which tbe myrtle owes its IngnDce, and its use in 
medicine and the arts, is a very general attribute ol the order, as 
may be Inlerred from tbe fait that the order includca, amongst 
other genern, Enaiyftiu (f.r.), Pimnila and EaftMO (doves). 
ifyrfsl, a constituent of myrlTe oil, hu been given in doses of 
S-15 minims on sugar or in capsules for pulmonary tuberculosis, 
fetid bronchitis, bronchiectasis, and similar c " ' 



eipcclon 



ic and eapcctorant. 



. The 1 



ol 



id have been used 



NYIU, tbe district of N.W. Asia Minor tn ancient limes 
Inhabited by the Myv. It was bounded by Lydia and Phrygis 
on the S., by Bithynia on the N.E., snd 1^ the Proponlis and 
Aegean Sea on the N. and W. But its precise limits are difficult 
to assign, tbe Phrygian frontier being vague and fluctuating, 
while in tbe north-west the Troad was sometimes included In 
HyiU. sometimes not. Generally speaking, the northern portion 
was known as Mysia Minor or Hellespontict and tbe southern as 
Major or Pergsmene. 

The chief physical features of Hysl* (considered ap«n from 
that of the Troad) are Ihe two mountsin-diains, Olympus 
(;6oo ft.} in the north and Temnus in the south, which for some 
distance separates M>'sia from Lydia. and is if terwards prolonged 
LbroughMysialotheDcighbourhaodof thcGuif of Adrsmytlium. 
The only considerable rivers are Lhe Macestua and ils tributary 
the Rhyndscus in the northern part of the province, both of 
which rise in Phrygia, and, after diverging widely through 
Mysia, Dsile their waters below the lake ol ApoUonia about ij m. 
from the Proponlis. The CaTcus in the south rises in Temnus, 
and from thence flows westward to lhe Aegean Sea, passing 
within a lew miles ol Pergamum. In the northern portion al 
the province are two considerable lakes, Artynia or ApoUonialis 
(AbuUiont Geul). and Apbnilis (Moniyss dttii). which discharge 



vely. 



( Irom 



cities were Pergamum (j.b.) in tbe valley 
of tbe Calcus, and Cyiicus (f .•.) on the Proponlis. But tbe whole 
sen-coast was studded with Greek lawns, several of which were 
places of considerable importance: (bus tbe northern portion 
included Pariumi Lampucui and Abydos, and tbe sonthero 



zi6 



MYSLOWITZ— MYSORE 



Assus, Adr&myttium, and firther south, on the Elaitic Gulf, 
Elaea, Myrina and Cyme. 

Ancient writers agree in describing the Mysians as a distinct 
people, like the Lydians and Phrygians, though they never 
appear in history as an independent nation. It appears from 
Herodotus and Strabo that they were kindred with the Lydians 
and Carians, a fact attested by their common participation in 
the sacred rites at the great temple of Zeus at Labranda, as well 
as by the statement of the historian Xanthus of Lydia that their 
language was a miztuze of Lydian and Phry^an. Strabo was 
of opinion that they came originally from Thrace (cf. Bitkynia), 
and were a branch of the same people as the Mysians or Moesians 
(see MoESu) who dwelt on the Danube — a view not inconsistent 
with the preceding, as he considered the Phrygians and Lydians 
also as having migrated from Europe into Asia. According 
to a Carian tradition reported by Herodotus (i. 171) Lydus and 
Mysus were brothers of Car — an idea which also points to the 
belief in a common origin of the three nations. The Mysians 
appear in the list of the Trojan allies in Homer and are repre- 
sented as settled in the Calcus valley at the coming of Telephus 
to Pergamum; but nothing else is known of their early history. 
The story told by Herodotus (vii. so) of their having invaded 
Europe in conjunction with the Teucrians before tbe Trojan 
War is probably a fiction; and the first historical fact we learn 
is their subjugation, together with all the surrounding nations, 
by Lydian Croesus. After the fall of the Lydian monarchy they 
remained under the Persian Empire imtil its overthrow by 
Alexander. After his death they were anneied to the Syrian 
monarchy, of which they continued to form a part until the defeat 
of Antiochus the Great (190 B.C.), after which they were trans- 
ferred by the Romans to the dominion of Eumenesof Pergamum. 
After the extinction of the Pergamenian dynasty (130 B.C.) 
Mysia became a part of the Roman province of Asia, and from 
this time disappeare from history. The inhabitants probably 
became gradually Hellenized, but none of the towns of the 
interior, except Pergamum, ever attained to any importance. 



See C. Texter, Asie mineure (Paris, 1839); W. J. Hamilton, 

esearches (London, 1842) : J. A. R. Munro in Geogr. Journal (1897, 

Hellespontica): W. von Dicst, PeUrmanns MUth, (Ers&nzungBhcit 



Researches (London, 18422: J. A._R. Munro in Geogr. Journal (1897, 

(Ere&nzunnhc 
94; Gotha. 1889; Pergamene). (F. W. Ha.) 



MYSLOWITZ, a town of Germany, in the Prussian province 
of Silesia. Pop. (1905), 15,845. It lies oh the navigable Przemsa, 
across which an iron bridge leads to the Polish town of Modr- 
zejow, X30 m. S.E. from Breslau by rail, and an important 
junction of lines to Oswiedm-Lemberg and Vienna. It contains 
a Protestant and three Roman Catholic churches, a palace and 
a gymnasium, and other schools. Extensive coal-mines aro 
worked, and among its other industries are flax-spinning and 
brick-making. It became a town in 1857. 

See Lustig, GeschkhU von MyiUnrits (Mysbwitz, 1867). 

MTSORR, a native state of southern India, almost surrounded 
by the Madras presidency, but in political relations with the 
governor-general. It is natiirally divided into two regions of 
distinct character — ^the hill country called the Malnad, on the 
west, and the more open country known as the Maidan, compris- 
ing the greater part of the state, where the wide-spreading 
valleys and plains are covered with villages and populous towns. 
The drainage of the country, with a slight exception, finds its 
way into the Bay of Bengal, and is divisible into three great 
river systemsr— that of the Ristna on the north, the Cauvery on 
the south, and the Northern and Southern Pennar and Palar 
on the east. Owing to either rocky or shallow beds none of 
the Mysore rivers is navigable, but some are utilized for floating 
down timber at certain seasons. The main streams, especially 
the Cauvery and its tributaries, support an extensive system 
of irrigation by means of channels drawn from immense dams 
{anic%Us)t which retain the water at a high level and permit only 
the overflow to pass down stream. The streams which gather 
from the hill-sides and fertilize the valleys are embanked at 
every favourable point in such a manner as to form a series of 
reservoirB or tanks, the outflow from one at a higher level supply- 
ing the next lower, and so on, all down the course of the stream 



at short intervals. These tanks, varying in size from small 
ponds to extensive lakes, are dispersed throughout the country 
to the number of ao,ooo; the laigest is the Sulekere lake, 40 m. 
in circumference. 

Mysore is perhaps the most pn>^)erous native state in India. 
Situated on a healthy plateau, it receives the benefit of both 
the south-west and north-east monsoons, a natural advantage 
which, in conjunction with its irrigation system, has brought to 
Mysore a larger degree of immunity from famine than almost 
any other internal tract of India (always excepting the great 
calamity of X876-X877, when one-fourth of the population are 
believed to have perished). Coffee, sandal-wood, silk, gold 
and ivory are among the chief products. The famous Kolar 
gold-fields are worked by electric power, which is conveyed 
for a distance of 92 m. from the Cauvery Falls. This was the 
first electric power scheme of magnitude in Asia. A long 
period of administration by British officers led to the introduction 
of a system based on British models, which has been maintained 
under a series of exceptionally able native ministers, and the 
state can boast of public works, hospitals, research laboratories, 
&c., unsurpassed in India. 

The total area of the state is 39,433 Ki* 01., subdivided into 
8 districts, namely: Bangalore, Kolar, Tumkur, Mysore, Hassan, 
Kadur, Shimoga and Chitaldrug. Pop. (1901), 5,539^399, 
showing an increase of 18% between x88x and 189 1, and 
of 12% between 1891 and 190X. The proportion of HIxkIus 
(93-x%) is larger than in any province of India, showing 
how ineffectual was the persecution of Hyder and Tippoo. 
The Christians (apart from native converts, who are chiefly 
Roman Catholics) largely consist of the garrison at Bangalore, 
the families of military pensioners at the same town, xoffee- 
planters and gold-miners. The finances of the state have 
been very successfully managed under native rule, assisted by 
large profits from railways and gold-mines. The revenue 
amoimts to about £1,400,000, of which neariy half is derived 
from land. In accordance with the " instrument of transfer," 
Mysore pays to the British government a tribute of £234,000, 
as contribution to military defence; but the full amount was not 
exacted until X896. The state maintains a military force, 
consisting of two regiments of silladar cavalvy and three bat- 
talions of infantry — total, about 2800 men; and also a regiment 
of imperial siervice lancers, with a transport corps. An interest- 
ing political experiment has been made, in the constitution of 
a representative assembly, composed of 350 representatives oi 
all classes (f the community, who meet aimually to hear an 
account, of the state administration for the prevfous year. The 
assembly has no power to enact laws, to vote supplies, or to pass 
any resolution binding upon the executive. But it gives to the 
leading men of the districts a pleasant opportunity of visiting 
the capital, and to a limited extent brings the force of public 
opinion to bear upon the minister. Since 18^1 this representa- 
tive assembly has been elected by local boards and other public 
bodies. 

In the earliest historical times the northern part of Mysore was 
held by the Kadamba dynasty, whose capital, Banawasi, is 
mentioned by Ptolemy; they reigned with more or less splendour 
during fourteen centuries, though latteriy they became feuda- 
tories of the Chalukyas. The Cheras were contemporary with 
the Kadambas, and governed the southern part of Mysore till 
they were subverted by the ChoUs in the 8th century. Another 
ancient race, the Pallavas, held a small portion of the eastern side 
of Mysore, but were overcome by the Chalukyas in the 7th cen- 
tury. These were overthrown in the 1 2th century by the BaUalas 
(Hoysalas), an enterprising and warlike race professing the Jain 
faith. They ruled over the greater part of Mysore, and portions 
of the modem districts of Coimbatore, Salem and Dharwar, with 
their capital at Dwarasamudra (the modern Halebid); but in 
13x0 the Ballala king was capiured by Malik Kafur, the general 
of Ala-ud-din; and seventeen years later the town was entirely 
destroyed by anotlier force sent by Mahommed Tughlak. After 
the subversion of the Ba'lala dynasty, a new and powerful 
Hindu sovereignty arose at Vijayanagar on the Tungabhadra.. 



MYSORE— MYSTERY 



117 



Ib 1565 a oonfedention of the Mabommedan kingdoms de- 
feated the Vijayanagar sovereign at the battle of Talikota; and 
ha descendants ultimately became extinct as a ruling house. 
During the feeble reign of the last king, the petty local chiefs 
ipaUgars) auerted their independence. The most important of 
these was the wedeyar of Mysore, who in z6io seized the fort of 
Serij^apatam, and so laid the foundation of the present state. 
His fourth successor, Chikka Deva Raja, during a reign of 
34 years, made his kingdom one of the most powerful in 
soutbem India. In the middle of the i8th century the famous 
Mahommedan adventurer Hyder Ali usurped the throne, and 
by hb military prowess made himself one of the most powerful 
princes of India. His dynasty, however, was as brief as it 
was biiiliant, and ended with the defeat and death of his son 
Tippoo at Seringapatam in 1799. A representative of the 
ancient Hindu line was then replaced on the throne. This 
prince, Krishna raja Wodeyar, was only five years old, and until 
be came of age in iSti the state was under the administration 
of Pomaiya, the Brahman minister of Hyder and Tippoo. 
^lien Krishnaraja took over the management of his state he 
received an orderly and contented principality with a surplus 
of two crcwes of rupees. Within twenty years he had driven 
hs subjects into rebellion and involved himself and his state 
in heavy debt. The British government therefore assumed 
the administration in 183 1, and placed it in the hands of com- 
missloDers. In 1863 no less than 88 lakhs of state debts and of 
the maharaja's own liabilities had been liquidated; the entire 
administration had been reformed, a revised system of land 
rrvenoe introduced, and many public works executed. The 
maharaja therefore pressed his claims to a restoration of his 
powers, but the British government refused the application as 
incompatible with the true interests of the people of Mjrsore, 
aad as not justified by any treaty obligation. In the same year 
Chamarajendra Wodesrar, afterwards maharaja, was bom of 
the Bettada Kote branch of the ruling house; and in June 1865 
Maharaja Krishnaraja adopted him as his son and successor, 
ahhoui^ be had been informed that no adoption could be 
reoogniaed except to his own private property, already once 
more heavily wei^ted with private debts. In 1867 the policy 
of government underwent a change; it was determined to secure 
the continuance of native rule in Mysore, by acknowledging 
the adoption upon certain conditions which would secure to the 
people the continued benefits of good administration enjoyed 
by them under British control, llie old maharaja died on the 
27th of March 1868, and Chamarajendra Wodeyar was publicly 
iaslaOed as the future ruler of Mysore on the 23rd of September 
iS6Sw His education was taken in hand, abuses which had grown 
up in the palace establishment were reformed, the late maharaja 's 
debts were again paid off, and the whole internal administration 
perfected in every branch during the minority. On the 35th of 
March 1881 Maharaja Chamarajendra, having attained the age 
of 18 years, was publicly entrusted with the administration of 
the state. He made over to the British government, with full 
^irbdictioa, a small tract of land at Bangalore, forming the 
" cxvH and military station," and received in return the island of 
Seringapatam. But the most important incident of the change 
was the »gning of the " instrument of transfer," by which 
the ytKing maharaja, for himself and his successors, undertook 
to perform the conditions imposed upon him. To that agree- 
ment the maharaja steadfastly adhered during his reign, and 
the instrument Is a landmark in the history of British relations 
with the protected states oi India. Tht mabaraja's first 
aiB»ter was Ranga Chariu, who had been trained in the 
British administration of Mysore. He signalized the restoration 
<d native rule by creating the representative assembly. In 
1^3 Sheshadri Aiyar succeeded Ranga Chariu, and to him 
Mysore is indebted for the extension of railways and schemes of 
irrisatioa, the development of the Kolar goldfields, and the 
makitcnance of the hi^ standard of its administration. The 
maharaja died at Calcutta on the 28th of December 1894. . His 
e^lcst son, Krishnaraja Wodeyar, bom in 1884, succeeded him, 
and bis widow, Maharani Vanivilas^ was appointed regent^ 



until in 1903 the maharaja was formally invested with full 

powers by the viceroy in person. 

See B. L. Rice, Mysore (2nd ed.. Bangalore, 1897;; liyson and 
Coorg CttMdUer (Cakutu, 1908). 

MYSORE, capital of the state of Mysore, India, 10 m. S.W. of 
Seringapatam on the Mysore State railway. Pop. (1901), 68,1 1 1. 
The dty, which is spread over an area of about 7I sq. m., has its 
nucleus at the foot of the Chamundi hill, in a valley formed by 
two parallel ridges running north and south. The fort stands 
in the south of the town, forming a quarter by itself; the ground- 
plan is quadrangular,*each of the sides being about 450 yds. long. 
The old palace of the maharaja within the fort, bidlt in an 
extravagant style of Hindu architecture, was partly destroyed 
by fire in 1897, whereupon a new palace was built on the same 
site. The principal object of yiterest in the old palace was the 
throne, which is said to have been presented to Chikka Deva Raj 
by the emperor Aurangzeb. The houses of the European residents 
are for the most part to the east of the town. The residency or' 
government house was built in 1805. The building afterwards 
used for the district offices was originally built by Colonel 
Wellesley (duke of Wellington) for his own occupation. The 
domed building for the public offices in Gordon Park, the 
Maharaja's College, the Victoria Jubilee Institute, and the law 
courts are conspicuous. Mysore, though the dynastic capital 
of the state, was superseded by Seringapatam as the seat of the 
court from 1610 to 1799, and in 1831, on the British occupation, 
the seat of administration was removed to Bangalore. 

MYSTERY (Gr. fuwr^pcor, from ftbanit, an initiate, fidciy, 
to shut the mouth), a general English term for what is secret 
and excites wonder, derived from the religious sense (see below). 
It is not to be confounded with the other old word " mystery," 
or more properly " mistery," meaning a trade or handicraft 
(Lat. ministerium, Fr. mitier). For the medieval pUys, called 
mysteries, see Dsaka; they were so called (Skeat) because acted 
by craftsmen. 

Creek Mysteries, — It is important to obtun a dear conception 
of the exact significance of the Greek term lamrkfita^t which b 
often associated and at times appears synonymous with the words 
rcXeri^, flpYui- We may interpret " mystery " in its original 
Greek meaning as a " secret " worship, to H*iich only certain 
specially prepared people — (rf innfikimt—^tTt admitted after a 
special period of purification or other preliminary probation, and 
of which the ritual was so important and perilous that the 
" catechumen " needed a hierophant or expounder to guide him 
aright. In the ordinary public worship of the state or the private 
worship of the household the sacrifice with the prayer was the 
chief act of the ceremony; in the " mysterion " something other 
than a sacrifice was of the essence of the rite; something was 
shown to the eyes of the initiated, the mystery was a 5pa/ia 
fwCTUtSv, and Apov and hpuciLocbni are verbal terms expressive 
of the mystic act. We have an interesting account given us by 
Theo Sm3rmaeus* of the various dements and moments of the 
normal mystic ceremony: first is the KoBafi/iM or preliminary 
purification; secondly, the rtker^ irap6SoaLS, the mystic com- 
munication; which probably induded some kind of X6Y0f, a 
sacred exegesis or exhortation; thirdly, the twwrrda or the 
revelation to sight of certain holy things, which is the central 
point of the whole; fourthly, the crowning with the garland, 
which is henceforth the badge of the privileged; and. finally, 
that which is the end and object of all this, the happiness that 
arises from the friendship or communion with the deity. This 
exposition is probably applicable to the Greek mysteries in 
general, though it may well have been derived from his know- 
ledge of the Eleusinian. We may supplement it by a statement 
of Ludan's that " no mystery was ever cdebrated without 
dandng " {De saUat. 15), which means that it was in some sense 
a religious drama, andent Greek dandng being generally 
mimetic, and represented some Up6t "Kbyos or sacred story as 
the theme of a mystery-play. 

Before we approach the problem as to the content of the 
mysteries, we may naturally raise the question why certain 
* DejUil. nuUA., HerKhcf. p. 15. 



ii8 



MYSTERY 



andent cults in Greece were mystic, others open and public. 
An explanation often offered is that the mystic cults are the 
Pelasgic or pre-Hellenic and that the conquered populations 
desired to shroud their religious cnemonies from the profane 
eyes of the invaders. But we should then expect to find them 
administered chiefly by slaves and the lower population; on the 
contrary they are generally in the hands of the noblest families, 
and the evidence that slaves possessed in any of them the right 
of initiation is only slight. Nor does the explanation in other 
respects fit the facts at all. The deities who are worshipped 
with mystic rites have in most cases Hellenic names and do not 
all belong to the earliest stratum of HcUenic religion. Besides 
those of Demeter, by far the most numerous in the Hellenic 
world, we have record of the mysteries of Ge at Phlye in Attica, 
of Aglauros and the Charities at Athens, of Hecate at Aegina; 
a shrine of Artemis Mwrla on the road between Sparta and 
Arcadia points to a mystic cult of this goddess, and we can infer 
the existence of a similar worship of Themis. Now these are 
either various forms of the earth-goddess, or are related closely 
to her, being powers that we call " chthonian," associated with 
the world below, the realm of the dead. We may surmise then 
that the mystic setting of u cult arose in many cases from the 
dread of the religious miasma which emanated from the nether 
world and which suggested a prior ritual of purification as neces- 
sary to safeguard the person before approaching the holy presence 
or handling certain holy objects. Thb would explain the 
necessity of mysteries in the worship of Dionysus also, the Cretan 
Zagrcus, Trophonius at Lebadeia, Palaemon-Melicertes on the 
Isthmus of Corinth. They might also be necessary for those 
who desired communion with the deified ancestor or hero, and 
thus we hear of the mysteries of Dryops at Asine, of AntinoUs 
the favourite of Hadrian at Mantineia. Again, where there was 
hope or promise that the mortal should by communion be able 
to attain temporarily to divinity, so hazardous an experiment 
would be safeguarded by special preparation, secrecy and 
mystic ritual; and this may have been the prime motive of the 
institution of the Attis-Cybele mystery. (See Great Mothzk 
or THE Goos.) 

For the student of Hellenism, the Eleusinian and Orphic 
ceremonies are of paramount importance; the Samothradan, 
which vied with these in attractiveness for the later Hellenic 
world, were not Hellenic in origin, nor wholly hellenized in char- 
acter, and cannot be considered in an article of this compass. 

As regards the Eleusinia, we are in a better position for the 
investigation of them than our predecessors were; for the modem 
methods of comparative religion and anthropology have at least 
taught us to ask the right questions and to apply relevant 
hypotheses; arehaeology, the study of vases, excavations on the 
site, yielding an ever-increasing hoard of inscriptions, have 
taught us much concerning the external organization of the 
mysteries, and have shown us the beautiful figures of the deities 
as they appeared to the eye or to the mental vision of the 
initiated. 

As regards the inner content, the secret of the mystic celebra- 
tion, it is in the highest degree unlikely that Greek inscriptions or 
art would ever reveal it; the Eleusinian scenes that appear on 
Attic vases of about the 5th century cannot be supposed to show 
us the heart of the mystery, for such sacrilegious rashness would 
be dangerous for the vase-painter. If we are to discover it, we 
must turn to the andent literary records. These must be 
handled with extreme caution and a more careful scrutiny than 
is often applied. We must not expect full enlightenment from 
the Pagan writers, who convey to us indeed the poetry and the 
glow of this fasdnating ritual, and who attest the deep and puri- 
fying influence that it exercised upon the rdigious temperament, 
but who are not likely to tell us more. It is to the Christian 
Fathers we must turn for more esoteric knowledge, for they 
wuuld be withheld by no scruple from revealing what they knew. 
But we cannot always believe that they knew much, for only 
those who, like Clement and Amobius, had been Pagans in their 
youth, could ever have been initiated. Many of them uncriti- 
cally confuse in the same context and in one sweeping verdict 



of condemnation Orphic, Phrygian-Sabazian and Attis-Mysteries 
with the Eleusinian; and we ought not too lightly to infer that 
these were actually confused and blended at Eleusis. We must 
also be on our guard against supposing that when Pagan or 
Christian writers refer vagudy to " mystcria," they always have 
the Eleusinian in their mind. 

The questions that the critical analysis of all the evidence 
may hope to solve are mainly these: (a) What do we know or 
what can we infer concerning the personality of the ddties to 
whom the Eleusinian mysteries were originally consecrated, 
and were new figures admitted at a later period ? (b) When was 
the mystery taken over by Athens and opened to all Hellas, and 
what was the state-organization provided ? (c) What was the 
inner significance, essential content or purport of the Eleusinia, 
and what was the source of their great influence on Hellas ? 
(d) Can we attribute any ethical value to them, and did they 
strongly impress the popular belief in immortality? Limits of 
q>ace allow us only to adumbrate the results that research on 
the lines of these questions has hitherto yielded. 

The paramount divine personalities of the mystery were in 
the earliest period of which we hav« literary record, the mother 
and the daughter, Demeter and Kore, the latter being never 
styled Persephone in the official language of Eleusis; while the 
third figure, the god of the lower world known by the euphemistic 
names of Pluto (Plouton) and at one time Eubouleus, the ravishcr 
and the husband, is an accessory personage, comparatively in 
the background. This is the condusion naturally drawn from 
the Homeric hymn to Demeter, a composition of great ritualistic 
value, probably of the 7th century B.C., which describes the 
abduaion of the daughter, the sorrow and search of the mother, 
her sitting by the sacred well, the drinking of the xvodw or 
sacred cup and the legend of the pomegranate. An andent 
hymn of Pamphos, from which Pausanias freely quotes and 
which he regards as genuine,* appears to have told much the 
same story in much the same way. As far as we can say, then, 
the mother and daughter were there in possession at the very 
beginning. The other pair of divinities known as 6 Mn 4 Btk, 
that appear in a sth-century inscription and on two dedicatory 
reliefs found at Eleu^, have been supposed to descend from 
an aboriginal period of Eleusinian religion when deities were 
nameless, and when a peaceful pair of earth-divinities, male and 
female, were worshipped by the rustic community, before the 
earth-goddess had pluralized herself as Demeter and Kore, and 
before the story of the madre ddorosa and the lost daughter had 
arisen.* But for various reasoiu the contrary view is more 
probable, that b 0c6f and 1) 0ed ire later cult-titles of the 
married pair Pluto-Cora (Plouton-Kore), the personal names 
being omitted from that feeling of reverential shyness which was 
specially timid in regard to the sacred names of the deities of 
the underworld. And it is a fairly familiar phenomenon in Greek 
religion that two separate titles of the same divinity engender 
two distinct cults. 

The question as to the part played by Dionysus in tlie 
Eleusinia is imporUnt. Some scholars, like M. Foucart, have 
supposed that he bebnged from the beginning to the inner 
drde of the mystery; others that he forced his way in at a 
somewhat later period owing to the great influence of the Orphic 
secu who captured the stronghold of Attic religion and engrafted 
the Orphic-Sabazian Upit X^Yot, the story of the incestuous 
union of Dionysus-Sabazius with Demeter-Kore, and of the 
death afid rendering of Zagreus, upon the primitive Eleusinian 
faith. A saner and more careful criticism rejects this view. 
There is no genuine trace discovered as yet in the inner drde 
of the mysteries of any characteristically Orphic doctrine; the 
names of Zagreus and Phanes are nowhere heard, the legend of 
Zagreus and the death of Dionysus are not known to have 
been mentioned there. Nor is there any print within or in 
the predncu of the rcXcor^lpcor: the hall of the MCvroi, of the 

footsteps of the Phrygian ddties, Cybde, Attis, Sabazius. 

'i. 38. y, a. 19, 1. 

' Sec Dittenbefrer, SyUoie, 13: Corp. inser. att. a, i6jo c, 3. 1 109; 
Ephem. arckaiol. (1886), vir. 3 : Hebcrdey in Festschrift J^ Benndcrf, 
p. 3, Taf. 4; Von Prott in Atktn. Mittkal (1899). p. 263. 



MYSTERY 



119 



The exact relation of Dionysus to the mysteries involves the 
qocstioo as to the divine personage called lacchus; who and what 
was lacchus? Strabo (p. 468), who is a poor authority on such 
Butters, describes him as *' the daemon of Demeter, the founder 
of the kader of the mysteries.^* More important b it to note 
that " lacchus " is unknown to the author of the Homeric hymn, 
tad that the first literary notice of him occurs in the well-known 
passage d Herodotus (viiL 65), who describes the procession of 
the mystaeas moving ak>ng the sacred way from Athens to 
Eleusts and as raising the cry 1a<x** We find lacchus the 
theme off a flowing invocation in am Aiistophanic Ode {Progs, 
324-398), and described as a beautiful ** yovMg god "; but he is 
ktst explicitly identified with Dionysus in the beautiful ode of 
Sophocles* AtUigofu (11x9); and that this was in accord with the 
pofNilar ritualistic lore is proved by the statement of the scholiast 
oB Aristophanes (Progs, 482) that the people at the Lenaea, the 
winter-festival of Dionysus, responded to the command of 
" Invoke the god! " with the invocation " Hail, lacchus, son of 
Semele, thou giver of wealthl " We are sure, then, that in the 
hi^ tide of the Attic religious history lacchus was the youthful 
Dionysus, a name of the great god peculiar to Attic cult; and 
this is all that here concerns us to know. 

We can now answer the question raised above. This youthful 
Attic Dion3rsi]s has his home at Athens; he accompanies his 
votaries along the sacred way, filling their souls with the exalta- 
tion and ecstasy <tf the Dionysiac spirit ; but at Eleusis he had no 
temple, altar or abiding home; he comes as a visitor and departs. 
His image may have been carried into the Hall of the Mysteries, 
b«t whether it plajred any part there in a passion-play we do 
not know.' That be was a prinury figure of the essential mystery 
is hard to bdieve, for we find no traces of his name in the 
other Greek communities that at am early period had insti- 
toted mjrsteries on the Elcminian modeL Apart from lacchus, 
Diooysos in his own name was powerful enoughat Eleusis as in 
most other localities. And the votaries carried with them no. 
doubt into the hall the Bacchic exaltation of the lacchus proces- 
soo and the nightly revel with the god that preceded the full 
initiation; many of them also may have belonged to the private 
Dionysiac sects and might be tempted to read a Dionysiac signifi- 
caiwe into much that was presented to them. But all this is 
cmjecture. The interpretation of what was shown would natur- 
afly change somewhat with the changing sentiment of the ages; 
but the mother and the daughter, the stately and beautiful 
figures pfcscntcd to us by the author of the homeric hymn, who 
says no word of Dion3rsus, are still found reigning paramount 
and s u p i e u ie at Eleusis just before the Gothic invasion in the 
latter days of Paganism. Triptolemus the apostle of com- 
cuttore, Enbouleus— originally a euphemistic name of the god 
of the under-world, " the giver of good counsel," conveying a 
hint of his oracular functions— thoe are accessory figures of 
Elcuainian cult and mythology that may have pUyed some part 
in the great mystic drama that was enacted in the hall. 

Tile development and organization of the Eleusinia may now 
be briefly sketched. The legends concerning the initiation of 
Hcfades-and the Dioscuri preserve the record of the time when 
the mysteries were dosed against all strangers, and were the 
pcmkye of the Eleusinia ns alone. Now the Homeric hymn in 
OS obvioos appeal to the whole of the Greek world to avail 
themselves of these mysteries gives us to suppose that they 
had already been thrown open to Hellas; and this momentous 
chance, abolishing the old gentile barriers, may have naturally 
mmckied with, or have resulted from, the fusion <^ Eleusis and 
Athena, an event of equal importance for politics and- religion 
may pbce in the prehistoric period. The reign of 
was an era of architectural aaivity at Eleusis; 
hmt the construction of the iwcruin ciiKit was one of the 
ach ievem ents of the Periclean administration. Two inscriptions, 
cCTKrainfng decrees passed during the supremacy of Pericles, the 
oee procfaiming a holy tnicc of three months for the votaries 
that came from any Greek community,* the other bidding the 
sabject allies and inviting the independent states to send 

' Corp. inscr. ati. L i. 



droAXoi or tithe-offerings of com to Eleusis,' record the far- 
sighted policy of periclean Athens, her determination to find a 
religious support for her hegemony. 

At least from the 5th century onwards, the external control 
and all questions of the organization of the mysteries were in 
the hands- of the Atbenixq) slate, the rule holding in Attica as 
elsewhere in Hellas that the state was supreme over the Church. 
The head of the general management was the king-archon 
{arckoH-hasileus) who with his paredros and the four " epimele- 
tai " formed a general committee of supervision, and matters of 
importance connected with the ritual were decided by the Boul6 
or Ecclesia. But the claim of Eleusis as the religious metropolis 
was not ignored. The chief of the two priestly families, in whose 
hands lay the mystic celebration itself and the formal right of 
admission, was the Eleusinian " gens " of the Eumolpidae; it 
was to their ancestor that Demeter had entrusted her dpyta, 
and the recognition <^ their claims nuintained the principle 
of apostolic succession. To them belonged the hierophant 
(l^w^dmyt), the hi^ priest of the Eleusinia, whose function 
alone it was to " reveal the orgies," to show the sacred things, 
and who alone— or perhaps with his consort-priestess— ^could 
penetrate into the innermost shrine in the hall; an impres- 
sive figure, so sacred in person that no one could address him 
by his personal name, and bound, at one period at least, by a 
rule of celibacy. We hear also of two " hierophantides," female 
attendants on the older and younger goddesses. In fact, while 
the male priest predominates in this ritual, the women |^y a 
prominent part: as we should expect, considering that the 
sister-festival of the Thesmophoria was wholly in their hands. 

. The other old priestly family was that of the ^' Kerykes," 
to whom the ^fJoGxot belonged, " the holder of the torch," 
the official second in rank to the Upo^iyrrit. It is uncertain 
whether this family was of Eleusinian origin; and in the 4th 
century it seems to have died out, and the office of the 5a5ovxor 
passed into the hands of the Lycomidae, a priestly family of 
Phlye, suspected of being devotees of Orphism. 

Turning now to the celebration itselJF, we can only sketch 
the more salient features here. On the xjth of Boedromion, 
the Attic month corresponding roughly to our September, 
the Ephebi (q.v.) nuirched out to Eleusis, snH. returned to Athens 
the next day bringing with them the " holy things " (2«pd) to 
the " Eleusinion " in the city; these 2«pd probably included small 
images of the goddesses. The i6th was the day of the iyvpiMbt, 
the gathering of the catechumens, when they met to hear the 
address of the hierophant, called the vpippnon. This was 
no sermon, but a proclamation bidding those who were dis- 
qualified or for some reason unworthy of initiation to depart. 
The legally qualified -were all Hellenes and subsequently all 
Romans above a certain — very youthful — ^limit of age, women, 
and as it appears even slaves; barbarians, and those undeansed 
of some notorious guilt, such as homicide, were disqualified. We 
are sure that there was no dogmatic test, nor would time allow 
of any searching moral scrutiny, and only the Samothradan 
rites, in this respect unique in the world of classical religion, 
possessed a system of confessional. The hierophant appealed to 
the conscience of the multitude; but we are not altogether sure 
of the terms of his proclamation, which can only be approximately 
restored from late Pagan and early Christian writers. We know 
that he denuirided of each candidate that he should b^ "of 
intelligible speech {%.e. an Hellene) and pure of hand "; and he 
catechized him as to his condition of rituadistic purity — the food 
he had eaten or abstained from. It appears also from Libanius 
that in the later period at least he solemnly proclaimed that the 
catechumen should be "pure of soul,"* and this ^iritual 
conception of holiness had arisen already in the earlier periods 
of Greek rdigious thought. On the other hand we must bear in 
mind the criticism that Diogenes is said to have passed upon the 
Eleusinia, that many bad characters were admitted to com- 
munion, thereby securing a promise of higher happiness than an 
uninitiated Epaminondas could aspire to. 

An essential preliminary was purification and lustration, and 
* Dittenbcfger. Sylhge, 13. * Or. Corinth, iv. 356. 



I20 



MYSTERY 



after the assembly the " mystae " went to the sea-shore (AXaJc 
/iJKTroi) and purified themselves with sea-water, and prolMibly 
with sprinkling of pigs' blood, a common cathartic medium. 
After their return from the sea, a sacrifice of some kind was 
offered as an essential condition <rf/i69(rit, but whether as a 
sacrament or a gtft-offeiing to the goiddesses it is impossible to 
determine. On the igth of Boedromion the great procession 
started along the sacred way bearing the " fair young god " 
laochus; and as they visited many shrines by the way the march 
must have continued long after sunset, so that the 20th is some- 
times spoken of as the day of the exodus of lacchus. On the 
way each wore a saffron band as an amulet; and the ceremonious 
reviling to which the " mystai " were* sub jected as they crossed 
the bridge 4>f the Ceph^us answered the same purpose of 
averting the evil eye. Upon the anival at Eleusis, on the same 
night or on the following, they celebrated a midnight revel 
under the stan with lacchus, which Aristophanes glowingly 
describes. 

The question of supreme interest now arises: What was the 
mystic ceremony in the hall? what was said and what was done? 
We can distinguish two grades in the celebration; the greater 
was the riXca and tvorrud, the full and satisfying celebration, 
to which only those were admitted who had passed the lesser 
stage at least a year before. As regards the actual ritual in the 
hall of the mystae, much remains uncertain in q>ite of the 
unwearying efforts of many generations of scholars to construct 
a reasonable statement out of fragments of often doubtful 
evidence. We are certain at least that something was acted there 
in a religious drama or passjpn-play, the revelation was partly 
a pageant of holy figures; the accusations against Aeschylus 
and Aldbiades would suffice to prove this; and Porphyry speaks 
of the hierophant and the 6qScvxct acting, divine parts. 
What the subject of this drama was may be gathered partly 
from the words of Clement — " Deo (Demetcr) and Kore became 
the personages of a mystic drama, and Eleusis with its 6qj&cSxof 
celebrates the wandering, the abduction and the sorrow " 
{Protrept., p. li Potter), partly from Psyche's appeal to Demetcr 
in Apuleius {Metamorph. 6)—" by the unspoken secrets of the 
mystic chests, the winged chariots of thv dragon-ministers, the 
bridal descent of Proserpine. [Persephone], the torch-lit wander- 
ings to find thy daughter and all the other mysUries that the 
shrine of Attic Eleusis shrouds in secret" We may believe then 
that the great myth of the mother's sorrow, the lass and the 
partial recovery of her beloved was part of the Eleusinian 
passion-play. Did it also include a Upitthtufif We should 
naturally expect that the sacred story acted in the mystic 
pageant would close with the scene of reconciliation, such as a 
holy marriage of the god and the goddess. But the evidence 
that this was so is maiiUy indirect, apart from a doubtful paissage 
in Asterius, a writer of questionable authority in the 4th century 
A.D. {Ecmum. martyr, p. 194, Combe). At any rate, if a holy 
marriage formed part of the passion-play, it may well have been 
acted with solemnity and delicacy. We have no reason to 
believe that even to a modem taste any part of the ritual would 
appear coarse or obscene; even Clement, who. brings a vague 
charge of obscenity against all mysteries in general, docs not 
try to substantiate it in regard to the Elcusinia, and we hear 
from another Christian writer of the scrupulous purity of the 
hierophant. 

It would be interesting to know if the birth of a holy child, 
a babe lacchus, for example, was a motive of the mystic drama. 
The question seems at first sight to be decided by a definite 
statement of Hippolytus {PhUosopk. 5, 8), that at a certain 
moment in the mysteries the hierophant cried aloud: " The lady- 
goddess Brimo has borne Brimos the holy child." But a careful 
consideration of the context almost destroys the value of his 
authority. For he does not pretend to be a first-hand witness, 
but admits that he is drawing from Gnostic sources, and he goes 
on at once to speak of Attis and his self-mutilation. The formula 
may then refer to the Sabazian-Phrygian mystery, which the 
Gnostics with their usuid spirit of religious syncretism, would 
have no scruple in identifying with the Elfusinian. And the 



arehaeological evidence that has been supposed to support the 
statement of Hippolytus is deceptive. 

Finally, we must not suppose that there could be any very 
elaborate scenic arrangements in the hall for the representation 
of Paradise and the Inferno, whereby the rewards of the faithful 
and the punishments of the damned might be impressively 
brought home to the mystae. The excavations on the site have 
proved that the building was without substructures or under- 
ground passages. A la^ number of inscriptions present us 
with eUborate accounts of Eleusinian expenditure; but there is 
no item for scenic expenses jor painting. We are led to suppose 
that the pageant-play produced its effect by means of gorgeous 
raiment, torches and stately figures. 

But the mystic action included more than the pageant-play. 
The hierophant revealed certain holy objects to the eyes of the 
assembly. There is reason to suppose that these included cer- 
tain primitive idols of the goddesses of immemorial sanctity; 
and, if we accept a statement of Hippolytus {Uc. cil.) we must 
believe that the epoptae were also shown " that great and marvel- 
lous mystery of perfect revelation, a cut corn-stalk." The value 
of \his definite assertion, which appears to be an explicit revela- 
tion of the secret, would be very great, if we could trust it; but 
unfortunately it occurs in the same su^idous context as the 
Brimo-Brimos formula, and we again suspect the same uncritical 
confusion of Eleusinian with Phrygian ritual, for we kiK>w that 
Attis himself was identified in his mysteries with the *' reaped 
com," the orhxat tuatTOtt almost the very phrase used by 
Hippolytus. Only, it is in the highest degree probable, whether 
Hii^xdytus knew anything or not, that a com-token was shown 
among the sacred things of a mystery which possessed an original 
agrarian significance and was intended partly to consecrate and 
to foster the agricultural life. • But (0 say this is by im> means the 
same as to admit the view of Lenormant* and Dr Jevons* that 
the Eleusinians worshipped the actual com, or revered it as a 
dan-totem. For of direct corn-worship or of com-totemism 
there is no trace dther at Eleusis or elsewhere in Greece. 

Among the hpCiitem, or " things done "- may we also include 
a solemn sacrament, the celebration of a holy. communion, in 
which the votary was united to the divinity by partaking of 
some holy food or drink? We owe to Clement of Alexandria 
{Prolrcpt. p. 18, Potter) an exact transcription of the pass-word 
of the Eleusinian mystae; it ran as follows (if we accept 
Lobeck's emer^dation of trtywuciifient for ifiyaoAjitPos): *' I 
have fasted, I have drunk the barley-drink, I have-taken {the 
things] from the sacred chest, having tasted thereof I have placed 
them into the basket and again from the basket into the chest." 
We gather from this that some kind of sacrament was at least a 
preliminary condition of initiation; the mystae drank of the same 
cup as the goddess drank m her sorrow, partly — as we say — ** in 
memory of her," partly to. unite themselves more doedy with 
her. We know also from an inscription that the priest of the 
Samothradan mysteries broke sacred bread and poured out drink 
for the mystae- (i4rcA. epigr. Miitk. 1882, p. 8, Na 14). But 
neither in these nor in the Eleusinian is there any trace of the 
more mystic sacramental conception, any. indication that the 
votaries believed themselves to be partaking of the actual body 
of their divinity;* for there is no evidence that Demeter was 
identified with the com, still less with the barley-meal of which 
the ntubw was compounded. Nor is it likdy that the sacra- 
ment was the pivot of the whole mystery or was part of the 
essential act of the idfuvit itself. In the- first place we have 
an almost certain representation of the Eletisinian sacrament on 
an arehaic vase in Naples,' probably of Attic prevenanet, and 
the artistic reproduction of a holy act would have been impious, 
and dangerous, if this had belonged to the inner drdc of the 
mystery. Again, there is no mention of sacrament or sacrifice 
among the five essential parts of- /linins given by, Theo 

1 Daremberg et Saglio. DkHannain, \ p. 1066. 

* IntredMcHon to the Study of Rdtgion. 

*This is Dr Jevons's suppontion — op. cii—on which he bases 
an important, theory of the whole Eleuainiaa mysteries and their 
intrinsic attraction. 

• Faroell. Cidts. vol. iu. pL xv*. 



MYSTERY 



121 



Smymaetis, nor in tbe imagiBary nuntive of the Ute rhetorician 
Sopotros,* who supposes the strange case ofa man being initiated 
by the goddesses in a dream: they adroit him to their full 
communion merely by telling him something and showing him 
something. 

Beskles the Spwjicya, then, there were also certain things 
said in the hall, or in the earlier stages of initiation, which we 
would gladly discover. Part of these were mystic formulae, 
octe of which has been discu»ed already, the pass-word of 
the votaries. We gather also from Proclus and Hippolytus* 
that in the Eleusinian rites they gaxed up to heaven and 
cried aloud " rain " — Cc — and gazed down upon the earth and 
cried "conceive" — nut. This ritual charm — we cannot call it 
prayer— descends from the old agrarian magic which underlay 
tiie primitive mystery. What else the votaries may have uttered, 
whether by way of thanksgiving or solemn litany, we do not 
know.' But there was also a certain Upd$ X^YOf , some exposi* 
lion accompanying the unfolding of the mysteries; for it was part 
<rf the prestige of the hierophant that he was chief spokesman, 
" who poured forth winning utterance and whose voice the 
catechumen ardently desired to hear " {Antk. Pat., app. 246) ; and 
Galeo speaks of the rapt attention paid by the initiated " to the 
ibiflgs done and said in the Eleusinian and Samothracian 
mysteries "-(/>e usu part. 7. 14). But we have no truM worthy 
evidence as to the rtai content of the \byot of the hierophant. 
We need not believe that the whole of his discourse was taken 
up with oom-symbolism, as Vario seems to imply (Aug. Di cmi. 
Dei. so), or that he taught natural philosophy rather than 
theok)gy, or again, the special doctrine of Euhemerus, as two 
passages in Cicero {De naiur. dear. i. 42; Tutc. J. 13) might 
proaxpL as to suppose. Hb chief theme was probably an expo- 
sition of the meaning and value of the i«pd, as in an Australian 
ioiliatioa rite it is the privilege of the elders to explain the 
nature <^ the " churinga " to the youths. And his discourse 
OB these may have been coloured to some extent by the theories 
cirrent in tbe philosophic speculation of the day. But though 
in the time of Julian he appean to have been a philosopher of 
Keo-platonic tendencies, we ought not to suppose that the 
Ineixiphant as a rale would be able or inclined to rise above the 
anthropomorphic relipon of the times. Whatever symbolism 
attachol to the Upi^ the sacred objccu shown, was probably 
simple and natural; for instance, in the Eleusinian, as in Egjfptian 
esdutoiogy, the token of the growing com may have served as 
an eroUem — though not a proof — of man's resurrection. The 
doctrine of the continuance of the soul after death was already 
aaxpted by the popular belief, and the hierophant had no need 
to preach it as a dogma; the votaries came to Eleusis to ensure 
thoDsdves a happy immortality. And in our earliest record, 
the Homeric hymn, we find that the mysteries already hold out 
thb higher promise. How, we may ask, were the votaries 
aasoied? M. Foucart in Les grands mysUres d* Eleusis has 
oiaiBtaioed that the object of the mysteries was much the same 
as tliat of the E^gyptian Book of the Dead; to provide the mystae 
with elaborate rules for avoiding the dangers that beset the road 
to the other worid, and for attaining at last to the happy regions; 
that for this purpose the hierophant recited magic formulae 
whereby the soul could repel the demons that it might encounter 
on tiie path; and that it was to seek this deliverance from the 
tervocs of hell that all Greece 6ocked to Eleusis. This is in 
accord with his whole "egyptizing" theory concerning the 
Eleusinia, a theory which, though Egyptian influence cannot 
a priori be ruled out, is not found in harmony with the facts 
of the two religious systems. And the particular hypothesis 
just stated is altogether wanting in direct evidence, or— we 
may say— in traisemUance. There is no hint or allusion to 

* iZfaf. race, viil 121. 

• /• Tim. 293*; ^- Omn. Haer. 5. 7. p. 146. 

*Tbe other fonnula which the icholMtt on Plato (Cor^. 497 c.) 
a I il l M to the EleusinUn rite: " I have eaten from the timbrel. I 
kaw drank from the cymbal, I have carried the sacred vessel. 
I have aepc under the bridal<hamber." bebngs. not to Eleusis. 
iwt. asOeneataod Finnicus Materous themselves attest, to Phrygia 
aad toi^ttis. 



be found in the ancient lourccs suggesting that the recital of 
magic formulae was part of the ceremony. TheXd^of, what- 
ever it was, was comparatively unimportant. And the Greek 
public in general, in its vigorous period when the Eleusinian 
religkm reached its xenith, was not tormented, as modern 
Europe has at times been, by ghostly terrors of judgment. 
. The assurance of the hope of the Eleusinian votary was 
obtained by the feeling of friendship and mystic sympathy, 
established by mystic contact, with the mother and the daughter, 
the poweis of life after death. Those who won their friendship 
by initiatbn in this life would by the simple logic of faith 
regard themselves as certain to win blessing at their hands in 
the next. 

It is obvious that the mysteries made no direct appoil to 
the intellect, nor on the other hand revolted it by any oppressive 
dogmatism. As regards their psychic effect, we have Aristotle's 
invaluable judgment: " The initiated do not learn anything so 
much as feel certain emotions and are put into a certain frame 
of mind " (Synes. Dion. p. 48d). The appeal was to the eye 
and to the imagination through a form of religious mesmerism 
working by means that were solemn, stately and beautiful. 
To understand the quality and the intensity of the impressk>n 
produced, we should borrow something from the modem experi- 
ences of Christian communion-service, mass, and passion-play, 
and bear in mind also the extraordinary susceptibility of the 
Greek mind to an artistically impressive pageant. 

That the Eleusinia preached a higher morality than that 
of the current standard is not proved. That they exercised 
a direct and elevating influence on the individual character is 
nowhere explicitly maintained, as Diodorus (v. 49) maintains 
concerning the Samothracian. But on general grounds it is 
reasonable to believe that such powerful religious experience 
as they afforded would produce moral fruit In many minds. The 
genial Aristophanes (JFrogSy 455) intimates as much, and 
Andocides {De myster. p. 36, § 31; p. 44, § 125) assumes that 
those who had been initiated would take a juster and sterner 
view of moral innocence and guilt, and that foul conduct was 
a greater sin when committed by a man who was in the ofl&cial 
service of the mother and the daughter. 

Besides the greater mysteries at Eleusis, we hear of the 
lesser mysteries of Agrae on the banks of the Ilissos. Estab- 
lished, perhaps, originally by Athens herself at a time when 
Eleusis was independent and closed her rites to strangers, 
they became wholly subordinated to the greater, and were put 
under the same management and served merely as a necessary 
preliminary to the higher initiation into them. Sacrifice was 
offered to the same great goddesses at both; but we have the 
authority of Duris {Athenae, 255<f), the Samian historian, and 
the evidence of an Attic painting, called the pinax of Nannion,* 
that the predominant goddess in the mysteries at Agrae was 
Kore. And this agrees with the time of their celebration, in 
the middle of Anthesterion, when Kore was supposed to return 
in the young com. Stephanus {s.v. 'A^pa), drawing from an 
unknown source, declares that the Dionysiac story was the 
theme of their mystic drama. Hence theorists have supposed 
that their content was wholly Orphic or that their central 
motive was the marriage of Dionysus and Kore. The theory 
has no archaeological or literary support except the passage in 
Stephanus, nor have we reason for believing that the marriage 
of these two divinities was recognised in Attic state ritual. 

The influence of Eleusis in early times must have been 
great, for we find offshoots of its cult, whether mystic or not, 
in other parts of Greece. In Boeotia, Laconia, Arcadia, Crete 
and Thera, Demeter brought with her tbe title of "Eleusinia"; 
and no other explanation is so probable as the obvious one 
that this name designates " the goddess of Eleusis," and though 
there may have been other places called " Eleusis," the only 
famous religious centre was the Attic. The initiation rites of 
Demeter at Celeae near Phlius, at Lema in Argolis, and at 
Naples, were organized after the pattern of the Eleusinian. But 
of these and the other Demeter mysteries in the Greek world, 
* Farnell, Cults of the Greek States, vol. iii. p. 242, pi. xvL 



122 



MYSTERY 



there is little to record that is certain and at the same time of 
primary importance for the history of religion. The Arcadian 
city of Phencus possessed a mystery that boasted an Eleusinian 
character and origin, yet in the record of it there is no mention 
of Kore, and we may suspect that, like other Demeter-worships 
in the Pcloponnese, it belonged to a period when the earth- 
goddess was revered as a single personality and Kore had not 
yet emanated from her. We know much more of the details 
of the great Andanian mysteries in Messenia, owing to the 
discovery of the important and much-discussed Andanian in- 
scription of 91 D.c' But what we know are facts of secondary 
importance only. We gather from Pausantas (4'i3-4;cf. 4- i- 
5. and 4. 26. 8; 4. 37. 6) that the rites, which he regards as seccnd 
in solemnity and prestige to the Eleusinian alone, were conse- 
crated to the MeydXai 6tal, . . . the great goddesses, . . . and that 
Kore enjoyed the mystic title of Hagn€, *' the holy one." 
The inscription has been supposed to correct and to refute 
Pausantas, but it does not really controvert his statements, 
which are attested by other evidence; it proves only that other 
divinities came at a later time to have a share in the mysteries, 
such as the Mey&Xoc 9*ol who were probably the Cabeiri (g.v.). It 
is clear that the Andanian mysteries included a iacnd drama, 
in which women personated the goddesses. The priestesses were 
married women, and were required to take an oath that they 
had lived " in relation to their husbands a just and holy life." 
We hear also of grades of initiation, purification-ceremonies, 
but of no sacrament or eschatologic promise; yet it is probable 
that these mysteries, like the Eleusinian, maintained and 
secured the hope of future happiness. 

The Eleusinian faith is not wholly unattested by the grave- 
inscriptions of Hellas, though it speaks but rarely on these. 
The most interesting example is the epitaph of a hierophant 
who proclaims that he has found that " death was not an evil, 
but a blessing."' 

Of equal importance for the private religion of Greece were 
the Orphic mystic societies, bearing a Thraco-Phrygian tradition 
into Greece, and associated originally with the name of Dionysus, 
and afterwards with Sabazius also and the later cult-ideas of 
Phrygia.' The full account of the Dionysiac mysteries would 
demand a critical study of the Dionysiac religion as a whole, 
as well as of the private sects that sprang up under its shadow. 
It is only possible here to indicate the salient characteristics of 
those which are of primary value for the history of religion. 

Originally a great nature-god of the Thraco-Phrygian stock, 
powerful over all vegetation and especially revealing his power 
in the vine, Dionysus was forcing his way into Greece at least 
as eariy as the Homeric period, and by the 6th century was 
received into the public cults of most of the Greek communities. 
We can gather with some certainty or probability his aboriginal 
characteristics and the form of his worship. Being a god of 
the life of the earth, he was also a nether divinity, the lord of 
the world of souls, with whom the dead votary entered into 
privileged communion; his rites were mystic, and nightly 
celebrations were frequent, marked by wild ecstasy and orgiastic 
self-abandonment, in which the votary became at one with 
the divinity and temporarily possessed his powers; women 
played a prominent part in the ritual; a savage form of sacra- 
mental communion was in vogue, and the animal victim of 
whose flesh and blood the votaries partook was at times re- 
garded as the incarnation of the divinity, so that the god himself 
might be supposed to die and to rise again; finally we may 
regard certain cathartic Ideas as part of the primeval tradition 



Sauppe, Mysterteninschrift von Andania; cf. Foucart's 
itary m Le Bas, Voyage ankiol. 2, No. 326^; H. Collitz. 



iSee 
commentai 
DiaUci'inscluiften, 4689. 

' Efk. arch. (1883). p. 81. 

' The best account of theoriginand development of the Dionysiac 
religion is in Rohde's Psyche, vol. i. ; for Orphic ritual and doctrine 
see article on " Orpheus " in Roacher's Ausfukrlickes Lexikon der 
grieckiscken und r&miscken Mytkotoeie; Min Harriion, ProUgamena 
to the Study of Creek Reli$^, pp. 4^5-659, with critical appendix 
by G. Murray on the Orphic tablets diKOvered in Crete, near Rome, 
and in south Italy. 



of this reUgion. Admitted among the sobner cults of tlie 
Greek communities, it lost most of its wHdness and savagery, 
while still retaining a more emotional ecstatic character than 
the rest. But this cooling process was arrested by a new 
wave of Dionysiac fervour that spread over Greece from the 
7th century onwards, bringing with it the name of Oipheus,* 
and engendering at some later date the Orphic brotherhoods 
ithlasi). This religious movement may have started like 
the earlier one from the lands north of Greece; but Crete and 
even Egypt are supposed to have contributed much to the 
Orphic doctrine and ritual. Our earliest authority for the 
proceedings of the mystery -practitioner who used the name 
of Orpheus is the well-known passage in Plato's Republic 
(p. 364(1), in which he speaks contemptuously of the itinerant 
ritualists who knock at the doors of the rich, the vendors of 
magic incantations, who promise absolution from sins and 
happiness in the next world to be attained by a ritual of puri- 
fication and mystic initiation. This record brings to our notice 
a phenomenon unknown elsewhere in Greek religion; the 
missionary spirit, the impulse to preach to all who would hear, 
which foreshadows the breaking down of the gentile religious 
barriers of the ancient world. And it is prolMible that some 
kind of " Orphic " propagandism, whether through books or 
itinerant mystery-priests, or both, had been in vogue some time 
before Plato. We may fairiy conjecture that it has to some 
extent inspired the glowing eschatology of Pindar, who describes 
the next world as a place of penance and purgation from ancestral 
or personal taint and of final reward for the purified soul, and 
who unites this belief with a doctrine of reincarnation. In 
the Hippdytus of Euripides, Theseus taunts his son with 
cloaking his immorality under hypocritical " Orphic " preten- 
sions to purity, the pharisaic a!ffectation, for instance, o£ a 
vegetarian diet (95 2-^954)- Still more important is the fragment 
of the Cretans of Euripides, attesting the strength of the 
antiquity of' these mystic Dionysiac associations in Crete. 
The initiated votary proclaims himself as sanctified to Zeus of 
Ida, to Zagreus — the Orphic name of the nether-world Dionysus 
— and to the mountain-goddess Rhea-Cybele; he has fulfilled 
** the solemn rite of the banquet of raw flesh," and henceforth 
he " robes himself in pure white and avoids the taint of child- 
birth and funerals and abstains from meat." And — ^what is 
most significant — he calls himself by the very name of his god — 
he is himself Bdxxot- In spirit and in most of its details 
the passage accords well with the Bacckae of Euripides, which 
reflects not so much the public worship of Greece, but rath^ 
the mystic Dionysiac brotherhoods. Throughout this inspired 
drama the votary rejoices to be one with his divinity and to 
call himself by his name, and this m}^tic um'on is brought 
about partly, though Euripides may not have known it, through 
" the meal of raw flesh " or the drinking of the blood of the 
goat or the kid or the bull. The sacramental intention of this 
is confirmed by abundant proof; even in the state-cult of 
Tenedos they dressed up a bull-calf as Dion3rsus and reveren- 
tially sacrificed it (Ael. Nat. an. 12. 34); those who partook of 
the flesh were partaking of what was temporarily the body of 
their god. The Christian fathers at once express their abhorrence 
of this savage uffto^arrta and reveal its true significance 
(Arnob. Adv. not. 5. 119); and Firmicus Matemus (De error. ^ 
p. 84) attests that the Cretans of his own day celebrated a funeral 
festival in honour of Dionysus in which they enacted the life and 
the death of the god in a passion-play and " rent a living bull 
with their teeth." 

But the most speaking record of the aspirations and ideas 
of the Orphic mjrstic is preserved in the famous gold tablets 
found in tombs near Sybaris, one near Rome, and one in Crete. 
These have been frequently published and discussed; and here 
it is only possible to allude to the salient features that concern 
the general history of religion. They contain fragments of a 
sacred hymn that must have been in vogue at least as eariy 
as the 3rd century B.C., and which was inscribed in order to 

< The name 'Op^Y first occurs in Ibycus. Frag. 10: iN^axXvrA* 

•Op0*r. 



MYSTICISM 



123 



be binied vith the defunct, as an amulet that might protect 
bim from the dangers of his journey through the under-world 
and open to him the gates of Paradise. The verses have the 
power of an incantation. The initiated soul proclaims its divine 
descent: ** I am the son of Earth and Heaven": " lamperishing 
with tfaiist, give me to drink of the waters of memory *': " I come 
from the pure ": *' I have paid the penalty of unrighteousness ": 
" I have flown out of the weary, sorrowful circle of life." His 
reward is aasured him: " O blesaed and happy one, thou hast 
put off thy mortality and shalt become divine." The strange 
formula ipifoi k yiX <veror, "la kid feU into the milk," 
has been interpreted by Dieterich (£fM Mithras— IMurgUt 
p. X74) with great probability as alluding to a conception of 
Diooysns hunsdf as ^pf^iof, the divine kid, and to a ritual 
of rai^-bapcism in which the initiated was bom again. 

We discern, then, in these mystic brotherhoods the germs of 
a high religion and the prevalence of conceptions that have 
pUyeid a great part in the religious history of Europe. And 
as late as the days of Plutarch they reutned their power of 
cons(4iQg the afflicted {Constfl. ad uxor., c. 10). 

The Phrygian-Sabazian mysteries, associated with Attis, 
Cybde and Sabazius, which invaded later Greece and early 
imperial Rmne, were originally akin to these and contained 
Buny concepts in common with them. But their orgiaslic 
ecstasy was more violent, and the psychical aberrations to 
which the votaries were prone through their passionate desire 
for divine communion were more dangerous. Emasculation 
was practised by the devotees, probably in order to assimilate 
thenurivcs as far as possible to their goddess by abolishing the 
(fistiactloo of .sex, and the high-priest himself bore the god's 
name. Or communion with the deity might be attained by the 
priest through the bath of blood in the taurobolion (9.9.), or 
by the g^fhif»B of the arm over the altar. A more questionable 
method which lent itself to obvious abuses, or at least to the 
imputation of indecency, was the simulation of a sacred 
marriage, in which the catechumen was corporeally united 
wiib the great goddess in her bridal chamber (Dieterich, cp. 
ck, pp. iai~r34). Prominent also in these Phrygian mysteries 
were the conception of rebirth and the belief, vividly impressed 
by solemn pageant and religious drama, in the death and resur- 
rection of the beloved Attis. The Hilaria in which these 
were represented feQ about the time of our Easter; and Firmicus 
Matemus reluctantly confesses its resemUance to the Christian 



The Eleusinian mysteries are far more characteristic of the 
cider Hellenic mind. These later rites breathe an Oriental 
spirit, and though their forms ai^)ear strange and distorted 
they have more in common with the sulnequent religious 
pheaomeaa of Christendom. And the Orphic doctrine may 
have even ocmtributcd something to the later European ideals 
sf private and personal morality.* 

LiTKaATVBB. — For citation of passages in classical literature 
bearing on Gveek mysteries in general see Lobeck's Aglaopkamus 
(iSa9) : and the collection of material for Demeter mysteries in L. R. 
Faroell. Cutis of ike Creek StaUs (1906). iii. MiSlbj. For general 

roaue 



theory and diacussion lee Dr levons, Introditction to the Study of 
Sdipmez Famcll, Ctdis of Ike Greek StaUs, iii. 127-213; Dyer's Tke 
Gods of Greece (itei), cb. v.: M. P. Foucart, Les Grands myslkres 
d'EJeusis (1900); Andrew Lang. Mytk, Ritual and ReHgion (18B7), 
pp. 264-276: Goblet d'Alviella, Smmimm (1903). Sec further articles 
Diojrrsvs; Great Motubk of the Gods; Demeter. (L. R. F.) 

MTSnCISH (from Or. tdmr, to shut the eyes; fdHmts, one 
imtiated into the mysteries), a phase of thought, or rather 
perfaapa of feeling, which from its very nature is hardly suscep- 
tibb of exact definition. It appears in connexion with the 
cadeavoar of the human mind to grasp the divine essence or 
(he ultimate reality of things, and to enjoy the blessedness of 
actual ooaamunion with the Highest. The first is the philosophic 
skk of msrstidsm; the second, its religious side. The first effort 
B th e o r e ti cal or speculative; the second, practical. The 
thoaght tbat b most intensely present with the mystic is that 

^Faraell. Ctdts, iii. a^g-ya. 

* Sec Arckiajit ReiigioHswiss. (1906), artkle by Sak>mon Rcinach. 



of a supreme, all-pervading, and indwelKng power, in whom 
all thinp are one. Hence the speculative utterances of 
mysticism are always more or less pantheistic in character. On 
the practical side, mysticism maintains the possibility of direct in- 
tercourse with this Being of beings— inUrcourse, not through any 
external media such as an historical revelation, oracles, answers 
to prayer, and the like, but by a species of ecstatic transfusion 
or identification, in which the individual becomes in very truth 
" partaker of the divine nature." God ceases to be an object 
to him and becomes an experience. In the writings of the 
mystics, ingenuity exhausts itself in the invention of phrases 
to express the closeness of this union. Mysticism differs, there- 
fore, from ordinary pantheism in that its inmost motive is 
religious; but, whereas religion is ordinarily occupied with a 
practical proUem and develops its theory in an ethical refer- 
ence, mysticism displays a fuedominatingly speculative bent, 
starting from the divine nature rather thui from man and his 
surroundings, taking the symbolism of religious feeling as 
literally or metaphysically true, and straining after the present 
realization of an ineffable union. The union which sound 
religious teaching represents as realized in the submission of 
the will and the ethical harmony of the whole life is then reduced 
to a passive experience, to something which comes and goes 
in time, and which may be of only momentary duration. 
Mysticism, it will be seen, is not a name applicable to any 
particular system. It may be the outgrowth of many differing 
modes of thought and feeling. Most frequently it appears 
historically, in relation to some definite system of belief, as a 
reaction of the spirit against the letter. When a religion begins 
to ossify into a system of formulas and observances, those who 
protest in the name of heart-religion are not unfrequently 
known by the name of mystics. At times they merely bring 
into prominence again the ever-fresh fact of personal religious 
experience; at other times mysticism develops itself as a 
powerful solvent of definite dogmas. 

A review of the historical appearances of mysticism will serve 
to show how far the above characteristics are to be found, 
separately or in combination, in its different phases. 

In the East, mysticism is not so much a specific phenomenon 
as a natural deduction from the dominant philosophic systems, 
and the normal expression of religious feeling in the ^^ 
lands in which it appears. Brahmam'c pantheism ^J^c 
and Buddhistic nihilism alike teach the unreality of 
the seeming world, and preach mystical absorption as the 
highest goal; in both, the sense of the worth of human person- 
ality is lost. India consequently has always been the fertile 
mother of practical mystics and devotees. The climate itself 
encourages to passivity, and the very luxuriance of vegetable 
and animal life tends to blunt the feeb'ng of the value of life. 
Silent contemplatk>n and the total deadening of consciousness 
by perseverance for years in unnatural attitudes are among the 
commonest forms assumed by this mystical asceticism. But 
the most revolting methods of self-torture and self-destruction 
are also practised as a means of rising in sanctity. The 
sense of sin can hardly be said to enter into these exercises— that 
is, they are not undertaken as penance for personal transgression. 
They are a despite done to the principle of individual or separate 
existence. 

The so-called mysticism of the Persian Sufis is less intense and 
practical, more airy and literary in character. Sufism (q.v.) 
appears in the 9th century among the Mahommedans of Persia 
as a kind of reaction against the rigid monotheism and formalism 
of Islam. It is doubtless to be regarded as a revival of andent 
habits of thought and feeling among a people who had adopted 
the Koran, not by affinity, but by compulsion. Persian literature 
after that date, and especially Persian poetry, is full of an ardent 
natural pantheism, in which a mystic apprehension of the unity 
and divinity of all things heightens the delight in natural and 
in human beauty. Such is the poetry of Hafiz and Saadi, 
whose verses are chiefly devoted to the praises of wine and 
women. Even the most licentious of these have been fitted 
by Mahommedan theologians with a mystical interpretation. 



124 



MYSTICISM 



The delights of love are made to stand for the raptures of union 
with the divine, the tavern symbolizes an oratory, and intoxica- 
tion is the bewilderment of sense before the surpassing vision. 
Very often, if not most frequently, it cannot be doubted that 
the occult religious significance depends on an artificial 
exegesis; but there are also poems of Uafis, Saadi, and other 
writers, religious in their first intentions. These are unequivo- 
caliy pantheistic m tone, and the desire of the soul to escape 
and rest with God is expressed with all the fervour of Eastern 
poetry. This speoilative mood, in which nature and beauty 
and earthly sati^action appear as a vain show, is the counteri>art 
of the former mood of sensuous enjoyment. 

For c^posile reasons, neither the Greek nor the Jewish mind 
lent itself readily to mysticism: the Greek, because of its clear and 
sunny naturalism; the Jewish, because of its rigid monotheism 
and its turn towards worldly realism and statutory observance. 
It is only with the exhaustion of Greek and Jewish civilization 
that myslidsm becomes a prominent factor in Western thought. 
It appears, therefore, contemporaneously with Christianity, 
and is a sign of the world-weariness and deep religious need 
that mark the decay of the old world. Whereas Plato's main 
problem had been the organization of the perfect state, and 
Aristotle's intellect had ranged with fresh interest over all 
departments of the knowable, political speculation had become 
a mockery with the extinction of free political life, and know- 
ledge as such had lost its freshness for the Greeks of the Roman 
Empire. Knowledge is nothing to lh»c men if it does not 
show them the infinite reality which is able to fill the aching 
void within. Accordingly, the last age of Greek philosophy 
is theosophical in character, and its ultimate end is a practical 
satisfaction. Neoplalonism seeks this in the ecstatic intuition 
of the ineffable One. The systematic theosophy of Plotinus 
and his successors docs not belong to the present article, except 
so far as it b the presupposition of their mysticism; but, inas- 
much as the mysticism of the medieval Church is directly 
derived from Neoplatonism through the speculations of the 
pseudo-Dionysius, Ncoplatonic mysticism fills an important 
section in any historical review of the subject. 

Neoplatonism owes its form to Plato, but its underlying 
motive is the widespread feeling of self-despair and the longing 
for divine illumination characteristic of the age 
in which it appears. Before the rise of Neoplaton- 
ism proper we meet with various mystical or semi- 
mystical expressions of the same religious craving. The 
contemplative ascetidsra of the Essencs of Judaea may be 
mentioned, and, somewhat later, the life of the Therapeutae 
on the shores of Lake Moeris. In Philo, Alexandrian Judaism 
had already seized upon Plato as " the Attic Moses," and done 
its best to combine his speculations with the teaching of his 
Jewish prototype. Philo's God is described in terms of absolute 
transcendency; his doctrine of the Logos or Divine Sophia is a 
theistical transformation of the Platonic world of ideas; his 
allegorical interpretation of the Old Testament represents 
the spiritualistic dissolution of historical Judaism. Philo's 
ethical ideal is renunciation, contemplation, complete surrender 
to the divine influence. ApoUonius of Tyana and the so-called 
Neopythagoreans drew umiiar ethical consequences from 
their eclectic study of Plato. Wonder-workers like Alexander 
the Paphlagonlan exhibit the grosser side of the longing for 
spiritual communion. The traits common to Neoplatonism 
and all these specxilations are well summed up by Zeller ( Pkilos. 
der CrUcken, iii. a. 314) as consisting in: " (i) the dualistic 
opposition of the divine and the earthly; (2) an abstract con- 
ception of God, excluding all knowledge of the divine nature; 
(3) contempt for the world of the senses, on the ground of the 
Platonic doctrines of matter and of the descent of the soul from 
a superior world into the body; (4) the theory of intermediate 
potencies or beings, through whom God acts upon the worid 
of phenomena; (5) the requirement of an ascetic self -emancipa- 
tion from the bondage of sense and faith in a higher revelation 
to man when in a state called enthusiasm." Neoplatonism 
appears in the first half of the 3rd century, and has its 



greatest representative in Plotinus. He develops the Platonic 
philosophy into an elaborate system by means of the doctrine 
of emanation. The One, the Good, and the Idea of the Good 
were identical in Plato's mind, and the Good was therefore not 
deprived of intelligible essence. It was not separated from 
the world of ideas, of which it was represented as either the 
crown or the sum. By Plotinus, on the contrary, the One is 
explicitly exalted above the wm and the "ideas"; it trans- 
cends exbtence altogether (iiriffctya r^ t^las), and is not 
cognizable by reason. Remaining itself in repose, it rays out, 
as it were, from its own fullness an image of itself, which b 
called roM, and which constitutes the system of ideas of the 
intelli^ble world. The soul b in turn the image or product of 
the KM, and the soul by its motion begets corporeal matter. 
The soul thus faces two ways — towards the roGt, from which 
it springs, and towards the material life, which b its own 
product. Ethical endeavour corabts in the repudiation of 
the sensible; material exbtence b itself estrangement from 
God. (Porphyry telb us that Plotinus was unwiUing to name 
his parents or his birthplace, and seemed ashamed of being 
in the body.) Beyond the itaBApfftts, or virtues which purify 
from sin, lies the further stage of complete identification with 
God {oOk 2(w Aftaprlas cfwu; dXXd tfedrcTMu). To reach the 
ultimate goal, thought itself must be left behind; for thought 
is a form of motion, ^nd the desire of the soul b for the motion- 
less rest which belongs to the One. The union with transcendent 
deity b not so much knowledge or vbion as ecstasy, coalescence, 
contact {UffTons ftrXoxrcf, d^, Ennead., vi. 9. 8-9). But in 
our present state of existence the moments of thb ecstatic union 
must be few and short; "I myself," says Plotinus simply, 
" have realized it but three times as yet, and Porphyry hitherto 
not once." 

It will be seen from the above that Neoplatonbm is not 
mystical as regards the faculty by which it claims to apprehend 
philosophic truth. It b first of all a system of complete 
rationalbm; it b assumed, in other words, that reason b capable 
of mapping out the whole system of things. But, inasmuch as 
a God b affirmed beyond reason, the mysticbm becomes in a 
sense the necessary complement of the would-be all-embradng 
rationalism. The system culminates in a mjrstical act, and 
in the sequel, especially with lamblichus and the Syrian 
Neoplatonbts, mystical practice tended more and more to 
ovenhadow the theoretical groundwork. 

It was probably about the end of the sth century, just as 
ancient philosophy was dying out in the schools of Atliens, 
that the speculative mysticism of Neoplatonbm made a 
definite lodgment in Christian thought through the literary 
forgeries of the pseudo-Dionysius (see Dionysius the Areopa- 
cite). The doctrines of Christianity were by that time so firmly 
establbhed that the Church could look upon a symbolical or 
mystical interpretation of them without anxiety. The author 
of the Thei^gia mystica and the other works ascribed to the 
Areopagite proceeds, therefore, to develop the doctrines of 
Proclus with very little modification into a system of esoteric 
Chrbtianity. Ciod is the nameless and supra-essential One, 
elevated above goodness itself. Hence " negative theology," 
which ascends from the creature to God by dropping one after 
another every determinate predicate, leads us nearest to the 
truth. The return to God {tvucis, Mcmtis) b the consummation 
of all things and the goal indicated by Christian teaching. The 
same doctrines were preached with more of churchly fervour 
by Maximus the Confessor {sSo-622). St Maximus represents 
almost the last speculative activity of the Greek Church, but 
the influence of the pseudo-Dionysian writings were transmitted 
to the West in the 9th century by Erigena, in whose speculative 
spirit both the scholasticism and the mysticism of the middle 
ages have their rise. Erigena translated Dionysius into Latin 
along with the commentaries of Maximus, and hb system is 
essentially based upon theirs. The negative theology is adopted, 
and God b stated to be predicatdess Bdng, above all categories, 
and therefore not improperly called Nothing. Out of this 
Nothing or incomprehensible essence the world of ideas or 



MYSTICISM 



"S 



prixnoidial causes is eternally created. This is the Word or 
Son of God, in whom all things existi so far as they have 
sabstantial eadstence. All existence is a theophany, and as 
God tt the beginning of all things, so also is He the end. Erigena 
teaches the restitution of all things under the form of the Diony- 
sian admMoHo ot ieificatio. These are the permanent outlines 
of what may be called the philosophy of mysticism in Christian 
times, and it is remarkable with how little variation they are 
repeated from age to age. 

In Erigena mysticism has not yet separated itself in any 
way from the dogma of the Church. There is no revulsion, 
as later, from dogma as such, nor is more stress laid upon one 
dogma than upon another; all are treated upon the same footing, 
and the whole dogmatic system is held^ as it were, in solution 
by the phflosophic medium in which it is presented. No 
distinction is drawn, indeed, between what is reached by reason 
and what is given by authority; the two are immediately 
identical for Erigena. In this he agrees with the speculative 
mystics everywhere, and differentiates himself from the scholas- 
tics who foUowed him. The distinguishing characteristic of 
srbolasticisin is the acceptance by reason of a given matter, 
the truth of which is independent of rational grounds, and 
which remains a presupposition even when it cannot be under- 
stood. Scholasticism aims, it is true, in its chief representatives, 
at demonstrating that the content of revelation and the teaching 
of reason are identical. But what was matter of immanent 
assumption with Erigena is in them an equating of two things 
which have been dealt with on the hypothesis that they are 
separate, and which, therefore, still retain that external relation 
to one another. This externality of religious truth to the mind 
is fundamental in scholasticism, while the opposite view is 
equally fundamental in mysticism. Mysticism is not the 
voluntary demission of reason and its subjection to an external 
authority. In that case, all who accept a revelation without 
professing to understand its content would require to be ranked 
as mystics; the fierce sincerity of Tertullian's credo quia ah- 
smrduM, Pascal's reconciliation of contradictions in Jesus 
Christ, and Bayle's half-sneering subordination of reason to 
faith would all be marks of this standpoint. But such a temper 
of mind is much more akin to scepticism than to mysticism; 
it is characteristic of those who either do not feel the need of 
philaat^hlzing their beliefs, or who have failed in doing so and 
take refuge in sheer acceptance. Mysticism, on the other hand, 
b mariied on its speculative ude by even an overweening 
amftdencc in human reason. Nor need this be wondered at if we 
consider that the unity of the human mind with the divine is 
its underiying presupposition. Hence where reason is discarded 
by the mystic it is merely reason overleaping itself; it occurs 
at the end and not at the beginning of his speculations. Even 
then tboe is no appeal to authority; nothing is accepted from 
without. The appeal is still to the individual, who, if not by 
reason then by some higher faculty, claims to realize absolute 
truth and to taste absolute blessedness. 

Mystidsm first appears in the medieval Church as the protest 
of practical religion against the predominance of the dialectical 
spirit. It is so with Bernard of Clairvaux (1090- 
1153)* who condemns Abelard's distinctions and 
reasonings as extemaliaing and degrading the faith. 
St Bernard's mystidsm is of a practical cast, dealing 
mainly with the means by which man may attain to the know- 
ledge and enjoyment of God. Reason has three stages, in the 
highest of which the mind is able, by abstraction from earthly 
things, to rise to ccnUmplatio or the vision of the divine. More 
exalted stSI, however, is the sudden ecstatic vision, such as was 
granted, for example, to Paul. This is the reward of those 
who are dead to the body and the world. Asceticism is thus 
the cottnten>art of medieval mystidsm; and, by his example 
as well as by his teadiing in such passages, St Bernard unhappily 
encouraged practices which necessarily resulted in self-delusion. 
Love grows with the knowledge of its object, he proceeds, and 
at the hi^iest stage self-love is so merged in love to God that we 
krve oorsdves only for God's sake or because God has loved us. 



" To lose thyself in some sort, as if thou wert not, and to have 
no consdousness of thyself at all — to be emptied of thyself 
and almost annihilated — such is heavenly conversation. ... So 
to be affected is to become God." *' As the little water-drop 
poured into a large measure of wine seenu to lose its own nature 
entirely and to take on both the taste and the colour of the wine; 
or as iron heated red-hot loses its own appearance and glows like 
fire; or as air filled with sunlight is transformed into the same 
brightness so that it does not so much appear to be illuminated 
as to be itself light — so must all human feeling towards the 
Holy One be self-dissolved in unspeakable wise, and wholly 
transfused into the will of God. For how shall God be all in 
all if anything of man remains in man? The substance will 
indeed remain, but in another form, another glory, another 
power " {De dUigendo Deo, c. xo). These are the favourite 
similes of mysticism, wherever it is found. 

Mysticism was more systematically devdoped by Bernard's 
contemporary Hugh of St Victor (1096-1 141 ). The Augustinian 
monastery of St Victor near Paris became the head- 
quarters of mysticism during the X3th century. It 
had a wide influence in awakening popular piety, and 
the works that issued from it formed the textbooks of mystical 
and pietistic minds in the centuries that followed. Hugh's 
pupil, Richard of St Victor, dedares, in opposition to dialectic 
scholasticism, that the Objects of mystic contemplation are 
partly above reason, and partly, as in the intuition of the 
Trinity, contrary to reason. He enters at length into the con- 
ditions of ecstasy and the yearnings that precede it. .Walter, 
the third of the Victorines, carried on the polemic against the 
dialecticians. Bonaventura ( 1 2 3 i-i 2 74) was a diligent student 
of the Victorines, and in his Itinerarium mentis ad Dewm maps 
out the human faculties in a similar fashion. He introduces 
the terms " apex mentis " and " scintilla " (also " synderesis" 
or irvrr^PV^it) to describe the faculty of mystic intuition. 
Bonaventura runs riot in phrases to describe the union with 
God, and his devotional works were much drawn upon by 
mystical preachers. Fully a century later, when the system 
of scholasticism was gradually breaking up under the predomi- 
nance of Occam's nominalism, Pierre d'AUly (13 50-1425), and 
his more famous scholar John Gerson (1363-1429), chancellor 
of the university of Paris, are found endeavouring to com- 
bine the doctrines of the Victorines and Bonaventura with a 
nominalistic philosophy. They are the last representatives 
of mysticism within the limitations imposed by scholasticism. 

From the 12th and 13th centuries onward there is observable 
in the different countries of Europe a widespread reaction 
against the growing formalism and worldliness of 
the Church and the scandaloxts lives of many of the ^""^ 
clergy. Men began to feel a desire for a theology myttka, 
of the heart and an unworidly simplidty of life. 
Thus there arose in the Netherlands the Beguines and Beghards, 
in Italy the Waldenses (without, however, any mystical leaning), 
in the south of France and elsewhere the numerous sect or sects 
of the Cathari, and in Calabria the apocalyptic gospel of Joachim 
of Floris, all bearing witness to the commotion of the time. 
The lay sodeties of the Beghards and the Beguines (for 
men and women respectively) date from the end of the 
1 2th century, and soon became extremely popular both 
in the Low Countries and on the Rhine. They were 
free at the outset from any heretical taint, but were never 
much in favour with the Church. In the beginning of the 
X3th century the foundation of the Dominican and Franciscan 
orders furnished a more ecclesiastical and regular means of 
supplying the same wants, and numerous convents sprang 
up at once throughout Germany. The German mind was 
a peculiariy fruitful sofl for mystidsm, and, in connexion either 
with the Beguines or the Church organization, a number of 
women appear about this time, combining a spirit of mystical 
piety and asceticism with sturdy reformatory zeal directed 
against the abuses of the time. Even before this we hear of 
the prophetic visions of Hildegard of Bingen (a contemporary 
of St Bernard) and Elizabeth of SchSnau. In the 13th century 



126 



MYSTICISM 



Elizabeth of Hungary, the pious landgravine of Thuringia, 
assisted in the foundation of many convents in the north of 
Germany. (For an account jf the chief of these female saints 
see the first volume of W. Preger's Gtsckickte der detUschen 
Mystik.) Mechthild of Magdeburg appears to have been the 
most influential, and her book Das fliessende LiclU dtr CoUkeit 
is important as the oldest woilc of its kind in German. It 
proves that much of the terminology of German mysticism 
was current before Eckhart's time. Mechthild's derico-political 
utterances show that she was acquainted with the "eternal 
gospel" of Joachim of Floris. Joachim had proclaimed the 
doctrine of three world-ages — the kingdom of the Father, of 
the Son, and of the Spirit. The reign of the Spirit was to begin 
with the year 1 260, when the abuses of the world and the Church 
were to be e£Fectually cured by the general adoption of the 
monastic life of contemplation. Very similar to this in appear- 
ance is the teaching of Amalric of Bena (d. 1207); but, white 
the movements just mentioned were reformatory without being 
heretical, this is very far from being the case with the mystical 
pantheism derived by Amalric from the writings of Erigena. 
His followers held a progressive revelation of God in the ages of 
the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Just as the Mosaic dispensation 
came to an end with the appearance of Christ, so the sacraments 
of the new dispensation have lost their meaning and efficacy 
since the incarnation of God as Holy Spirit in the Amalricans. 
With this opposition to the Church they combine a complete 
antinomianism, through the identification of all their desires 
with the impulses of the divine Spirit. Amalric's teaching 
was condemned by the Church, and his heresies led to the public 
burning of Erigena's De divisione naturae in 1225. The sect 
of the New Spirit, or of the Free Spirit as it was afterwards 
called, spread widely through the north of France and into 
Switzerland and Germany. They were especially numerous in 
the Rhineland in the end of the 13th and during the 14th cen- 
tury; and they seem to have corrupted the originally orthodox 
communities of Beghards, for Beghards and Brethren of the 
Free Spirit are used henceforward as convertible terms, and 
the same immoralities are related of both. Such was the seed- 
ground in which what is specifically known as GenAan mysticism 
sprang up. 

In MeisterEckhart (? 1260-1327) the German mind definitively 
asserts its pre-eminence in the sphere of speculative mysticism. 
^^^ Eckhart was a distinguished son of the Church; 
but in reading his works we feel at once that we 
have passed into quite a different sphere of thought from that 
of the churchly mystics; we seem to leave the cloister behind 
and to breathe a freer atmosphere. The scholastic mysticism 
was, for the most part, practical and psychological in character. 
It was largely a devotional aid to the realization of present 
union with God; and, so far as it was theoretical, it was a theory 
of the faculties by which such a union is attainable. Mysticism 
was pieced on somewhat incongruously to a scholastically 
accepted theology; the feelings and the intellect were not brought 
together. But in Eckhart the attitude of the churchman and 
traditionalbt is entirely abandoned. Instead of systematizing 
dogmas, he appears to evolve a philosophy by the free exercise 
of reason. His system enables him to give a profound ugnifi- 
cance to the doctrines of the Church; but, instead of the system 
being accommodated to the doctrines, the doctrines — and 
especially the historical facts — acqidre a new sense in the system, 
and often become only a mythical representation of q>eculative 
truth. The freedom with which Eckhart treats historical 
Christianity allies him much more to the German idealists of 
the 19th century than to his scholastic predecessors. 

The political circumstances of Germany in the first half of 
the Z4th century were in the last degree disastrous. The war 
between the rival emperors, Frederick of Austria and Louis 
of Bavaria, and the interdict under which the latter was placed 
in 1324 inflicted extreme misery upon the unhappy people. 
From some places the interdict was not removed for twenty-six 
years. Men's minds were pained and disquieted by the conflict 
of duties and the absence of spiritual consolation. The country 



was also visited by a succession of famines and floods, and in 
134S the Black Death swept over Europe like a terrible scourge. 
In the midst of these unhappy surroundings religion became 
more inward in men of real piety and the desire grew among 
them to draw closer the bonds that united them to one another. 
Thus arose the society of the Friends of God {GoUesfreunde) 
in the south and west of Germany, spreading as 
far as Switzeriand on the one side and the Nether- JIH 
lands on the other. They formed no exclusive 
sect. They often took opposite sides in politics 
and they also differed in the type of their religious life; but 
they uniformly desired to strengthen one another in living 
intercourse with God. Among them chiefly the followers of 
Eckhart were to be found. Such were Heinrich Suso of Con- 
stance(i 295-1366) and Johann Tauler of Strassburg(i300-i36i), 
the two most celebrated of his immediate disciples. Nicolas 
of Basel, the mysterious layman from whose visit Tauler dates 
his true religious life, seems to have been the chief organizing 
force among the Gottesfreunde. The society counted many 
members among the pious women in the convents of southern 
Germany. Such were Christina Ebner of Engclthal near 
Nuremberg, and Margaretha Ebner of Medingen in Swabia. 
Laymen also belonged to it, like Hermann of Fritzlar and 
Rulman Merswin, the rich banker of Strassburg (author of a 
mystical work, Buck der neun Fdsen, on the nine rocks or 
upwards steps of contemplation). It was doubtless one of the 
Friends who sent forth anonymously from the house of the 
Teutonic Order in Frankfort the famous handbook of mystical 
devotion called Eine -deutsche Tkeologie, first published in 15 16 
by Luther. 

Jan van Ruysbroeck (1294-1381), the father of mysticism 
in the Netherlands, stood in connexion with the Friends of God, 
and Tauler is said to have visited him in his seclusion 
at Groenendal (Vauvert, Grtintbal) near Brussels.^'*^'*"^ 
He was decisively influenced by Eckhart, though there is no- 
ticeable occasionally a shrinking back from some of Eckhart 's 
phraseology. Ruysbroeck's mysticism is more of a practical 
than a speculative cast. He is chiefly occupied with the means 
whereby the unto myslica is to be attained, whereas Eckhart 
dwells on the union as an ever-present fact, and dilates on its 
metaphysical implications. Towards the end of Ruysbroeck's 
life, in 1378, he was visited by the fervid lay-preacher Gerhard 
Groot (1340-1384), who was so impressed by the life of the com- 
munity at Groenendal that he conceived the idea of founding a 
Christian brotherhood, bound by no monastic vows, but living 
together in simplicity and piety with all things in common, 
after the apostoUc pattern. This was the origin of the Brethren 
of the Common Lot (or Common Life). The first house of 
the Brethren was founded at Deventer by Gerhard Groot and 
his youthful friend Florentius Radewyn; and here Thomas 
i Kempis {q.v.) received his training. Similar brother-houses 
soon sprang up in different places throughout the Low Countries 
and WcstphaUa, and even Saxony. 

It has been customary for Protestant writers to represent 
the mystics of Germany and Holland as precursors of 
the Reformation. In a sense this is true. But myoea 
it would be false to say that these men protested «mf '*•«»• 
against the doctrines of the Church in the way the ^nMtto* 
Reformers felt themselves called upon to do. There is no 
sign that Tauler, for example, or Ruysbroeck, or Thomas i 
Kempis had fdt the dogmatic teaching of the Church jar in 
any single point upon their religious consciousness. Never- 
theless, mysticism did prepare men in a very real way for a 
break with the traditional system. Mysticism instinctively 
recedes from formulas that have become stereotyped and 
mechanical. On the other hand its claim for spiritual freedom 
was soon to be found in opposition also to the Reformers. 

The wild doctrines of Thomas MUnzer and the Zwickau 
prophets, merging eventually into the excesses of the 
Peasants' War and the doings of the Anabaptists in 
MUnster, first roused Luther to the dangerous 
possibilities of mysticism as a disintegrating force. He was 



MYSTICISM 



127 



tho called upon to do battle for his principle against men like 
Caspar Schwoikfeld (1490-1561) and Sebastian Franck (1500^ 
1545), tbe latter of wbom developed a system of pantheistic 
mystidsin, and went so far in his opposition to the letter as to 
declare the whole of the historical dement in Scripture to be 
bot a m]rthical representation of eternal truth. Valentin Weigel 
(i 533-1 s£8), who stands under manifold obligations to Franck, 
represents also the influence of the semi-mystical physical 
speculation that marked the transition from scholasticism to 
modem times. The final breakdown of scholasticism as a 
latioBaliaed system of dogma may be seen in Nicolas (or 
Nicolans) of Cusa (1401-1464), who distinguishes between the 
Mleflectef and the discursively acting -fa/i9 almost precisely 
in the st^ of later distinctions between the reason and the 
understaoding. The intellect combines what tbe understanding 
separates; hence Nicolas teaches the principle of the coincidentia 
cetUradictarimttm, If the results of the, understanding go by 
the nane of knowledge, then the higher teaching of the intellec- 
tual intttiticHi may be called ignorance — ^ignorance, however, 
that b consdoos of itself, docUi ignoratUia. " Intuitio," " specu- 
Iatk>/' " visio sine comprehensione," " a>mprehensio incom- 
pKcheosibilis/' " mystica theologia," " tertius caelus," are some 
<rf the terms he applies to this knowledge above knowledge; 
but in the woricing out of his system he is remarkably free from 
extravagance. Nicolas's doctrines were of influence upon 
GiofdaBO Bruno and other physical philosophers ctf the xsth 
and i6th centuries. All these physical theories are blended 
with a mystkal theosophy, of which the most remarkable 
example is, perhaps, the cbemico-astrological speculations of 
Fuacdsas (1493-1 541). The influence of Nicolas of Cusa 
and Paracelsus mingled in Valentin Weigel with that of the 
Demlsekg Tkeclcgie^ Andreas Osiander, Schwenkfeld and Franck. 
Weigel, in turn, handed on these influences to Jakob Bochme 
(i 575-1624), pkihsopkus teutoniau, and father of the chief 
devcloimients of theosophy in modem Germany (see Boehhe). 

Mysticism did not cease within the Catholic Church at tbe 
Reformatioii. In St Theresa (151 5-1 583) and John of the Cross 
tbe counter-reformation can boast of saints second 
of to none in the calendar for the austerity of their 
mortifications and the rapture of the visions to 
which they were admitted. But, * as was to be expected, 
thdr mysticism moves in that comparatively narrow round, 
and consists simply in the heaping up of these sensuous 
experiences. The speculative character has entirely faded 
out oi it, ot rather has been crushed out by the tightness with 
which the directors of the Roman Church now held the reins 
of disdplioe. Thdr mystidsm represents, therefore, no widening 
or spiritualizing of their theology; in all matters of belief they 
remain the docile children of their Church. The gloom and 
harshness of these Spanish mystics are absent from the tender, 
contemplative spirit of Francois de Sales (1567-1622); and in 
the quietism of Mme Guyon (164^1717) and Miguel de 
llolinos (2627-1696) there is again a sufficient implication of 
raystica] doctrine to rouse the suspicion of the ecclesiastical 
aotboritics. (Quietism, name and thing, became tbe talk of 
aB tbe worid through the bitter and protracted controversy to 
which it gave rise between Ffndon and Bossuet. 

In the lylh century mysticism is represented in the philo- 
sophical field by tbe so-called Cambridge Platonists, and 
cipccially by Henry More (1614-1687), in whom the influence 
of tbe Kabbalah is combined with a spedes of christianized 
Keqilatooisni. Pierre Poiret (1646-17 19) exhibits a violent 
reaction against tbe mechanical philosophy of Descartes, and 
especially against its consequences in Spinoza. He was an 
ardent student of Taulcr and Thomas k Kempis, and became 
an adherent of the quictistic doctrines of Mme Bourignon. 
His philosophical works emphasize the passivity of the reason. 
The first influence of Boehme was in the direction of an obscure 
religious mysticism. J. G. Gichtel (1638^-1710), the first editor 
fd his complete works, became the founder of a sea called the 
Aagcl-Brethrvn. All Boehme's works were translated into 
Engiisb in the time of the Commonwealth, and regular societies 



of Boehmenists were formed in England and Holland. Later in 
the century he was much studied by the members of the 
Phikddphian Sodety, John Pordage, Thomas Bromley, Jane 
Lead, and others. The mysticism of William Law (1686-1761) 
and of Louis Claude de Saint Martin in France (i 743-1803), 
who were also students of Boehme, is of a much more devat^ 
and spiritual type. The " Cherabic Wanderer," and other 
poems, of Johann Scheffler (1624-1677), known a& Angelus 
Silesius, are more dosely related in style and thought to 
Eckhart than to Boehme. 

The rdigiodty of the (Quakers, with their doctrines of the 
"inner light" and the influence of the Spirit, has dedded 
affinities with mysticism; and the autobiography of George 
Fox (1624-X691), the founder of the sect, proceeds throui^out 
on the assumption of supernatural guidance. Stripped of its 
definitely miraculous character, the doctrine of the inner light 
may be regarded as the familiar mystical protest against for- 
malism, literalism, and scripture-worship. Swedenborg, though 
selected by Emerson in his RepraetOativc Men as the typical 
mystic, bdongs rather to the history of spiritualism than to 
that of mystidsm as understood in this artide. He possesses 
the cool temperament of the man of sdence rather than the 
fervid God ward aspiration of the mystic proper; and the specu- 
lative impulse which lies at the root of thU form of thought 
is almost entirdy absent from his writings. Accordingly, his 
supernatural reveUtions resemble a course of lessons in celestial 
geography more than a description of the beatific vision. 

Philoaophy nnce the end of the i8th century has frequently 
shown a tendency to diverge into mysttdBm. This has been espe- 
cially so in Germany. The term mysticism is indeed often extended 
bv popular usage and philosophical partisanship to the whole activity 
01 the post-Kiuitian idealists. In this usase the word would be 
equivalent to tbe more recent and scarcely less abused term, tran- 
scendentalism, and as such it is used even by a sympathetic writer 
like Carlyle; but this looseness of phraseolo^ only serves to blur 
important distinctions. However absolute a philosopher's idealism 
may be. he is erroneously styled a mystic if ne moves towards his 
conclusions only by the patient labour of the reason. Hegd there- 
fore, to take an instance, can no more fitly be classed as a mystic 
than Spinoza can. It would be much nearerthe truth to tain both 
as types of a thoroughgoing rationalism. In rither case it is of course 
open to anyone to maintain that the apparent completeness of 
synthesis really rests on the subtle intrusion of elements of feeling 
into the rational process. But in that case it might be difficult to 
find a" systematic philosopher who would escape the charge of 
mystidsm: and it is better to remain by long-established and 
serviceable distinctions. So, again, when Rdcdjac defines mysti- 
cism as " the tendency to draw near to the Absolute in moral union 
by symbolic means." the definition, as developed by him, is one 
which would apply to the phikMophy of Kant. R^c^jac's interest ing 
work,*L«x Fondiments de la comuussance mystique (Ene. trans. 1899), 
though it touches mystidsm at various pomts, and quotes from 
mystic writers, is in fact a protest aninst the limitations of experi- 
ence to the data of the senses and the pure reason to the exclusion 
of the moral consciousness and the deliverances of " the heart." 
But such a position is not describable as mystidsm in any recognized 
sense. On the other hand, where philosophy despairs of itself, 
exults in its own overthrow, and yet revels in the " mysteries " of a 
speculative Christianity, as in 1. G. Hamann (17^0-1788), the term 
mysticism may be fitly applied. So, again, it is m place where the 
movement of revulsion from a mechanical philosophy takes the 
form rather of immediate assertion than of reasoned demonstration, 
and where the writers, after insisting gjcnerally on the spiritual 
basts of phenomena, dther leave the position without further defini- 
tion or expressly declare that the ultimate problems of philosophy 
cannot be reduced to articulate formulas. Examples of this are 
men like Novalis, Carlyle and Emerson, in whom philosophy may be 
said to be impatient of its own task. Schelling's explicit appeal 
in the Idtntitdts-pkilosopkie to an intellectual intuition of the 
Absolute, is of the essence of mystidsm, both as an appeal to a supra- 
rational faculty and as a claim not merely to know but to realize 
God. The opposition of the reason to the understanding, as formu- 
lated by S. T. Cderidge. is not free from the first of these faults. 
The later philosophy of Schelling and the philosophy of Franz 
von Baader, both largely founded upon Boehme. belong rather to 
theosophy (q.v.) than to mystidsm proper. 
^ Authorities. — Besides the sections on mystidsm in the general 
histories of philosophy by Erdmann. Ueberweg and Windelband. 
and in works on church history and the history of dogma, reference 
may be made for the medieval period to Heinrich Schmid, Der 
Mysticismus in seiner Enlstekungsperiode (1824); Charles Schmidt, 
Essai sur les myxliques du 14^ sikle (1836); Ad. HelflTerich, Die 
ckrisUicke MysHk (1842); L. Noack, Die ckrisUiche Mystik des 



Z28 



MYTHOLOGY 



MiUdaUtrt (i8m): J. GArres, DU ckrisaicke MysUk (new cd.. 1879- 
1830^; Rufus M, Jones, Studies in Mystical Ktligion (1909). On 
the German mystics see W. Prcger's Cesckickt* der deutscken Mystik 
(voL L 1874: vol. ii. 1881: vol. iii. 1893). The works of EcMiart 
and his precumrs are conuined in F. Pfeiifef's Dtutuk* UysHker 



dts 14. Jabrhunderts (1845-1857}. 



(A.S.P.-P.) 



MYTUOLOOT (Or. iwSoKoytOt the science which eiaimaes 
livOiK, myths or legends of cosmogony and of gods and 
heroes. Mythology is also used as a term for these legends 
themsdves. Thus when we q>eak of " the mythology of Greece " 
we mean the whole body of Greek divine and heroic and cosmo- 
gonic legends. When we speak of the" sdence of mythology " 
we refer to the various attempts which have been made to 
explain these ancient narratives. Very early indeed in the 
history of human thought men awoke to the consciousness 
that their religious stories were much in want of explanation. 
The myths of civilized peoples, as of Greeks and the Aryans of 
India, contain two elements, the rational and what to modem 
minds seems the irrational. The rational myths are those 
which represent the gods as beautiful and wise beings.' The 
Artemis of the Odyssey ** taking her pastime in the chase of 
boars and swift deer, while with her the wild wood-nymphs 
disport them, and hi^ over them all she rears her brow, and 
is easily to be known where all are fair," is a perfectly rational 
mythic representation of a divine being. We fed, even now, 
that the cdnception of a " queen and huntress, chaste and fair," 
the lady warden of the woodlands, is a beautiful and natural 
fancy which requires no explanation. On the other hand, the 
Artemis of Arcadia, who is confused with the nymph Callisto, 
who, again, is said to have become a she-bear, and later a star, 
and the Brauronian Artemis, whose maiden ministers danced 
a bear-dance, are goddesses whose legend seems unnatural, 
and is felt to need explanation. Or, again, there is nothing 
not explicable and natural in the conception of the Olympian 
Zeus as represented by the great chrysdephantine statue of 
Zeus at Olympta, or in the Homeric conception of Zeus as a god 
who " turns everywhere his shining eyes " and beholds all 
things. But the Zeus whose grave was shown in Crete, or the 
2^s who played Demeter an obscene trick by the aid of a ram, 
or the Zeus who, in the shape of a swan, became the father of 
Castor and Pollux, or the Zeus who was merdy a rough stone, 
or the Zeus who decdved Hera by means of a fdgned marriage 
with an inanimate object, or the Zeus who was afraid of Attes, 
is a being whose myth is felt to be unnatural and in great need 
of explanation. It is this irrational and unnatural dement — 
as Max Mtiller says, " the »lly, savage and sensdess dement " 
— that makes mythology the puzzle which men have so long 
found it. 

Early Ex^anaticns of Myths.— Tht earliest attempts at a 
crude sdence of mythology were efforts to rea>ndle the legends 
of the gods and heroes with the religious sentiment which 
recognized in these beings objects of worship and respect. 
Closely as religion and myth are intertwined, it is necenaiy 
to hold them apart for the purposes of this discussion. Religion 
may here be defined as the conception of divine, or at least 
supernatural powers entertained by men in moments of gratitude 
or of need and distren, in hours of weakness, when, as Homer 
says, "all folk yearn after the gods." Now this conception 
may be rude enough, and it is nearly related to purely 
magical ideas, to efforts to secure supernatural aid by 
magical ceremonies. Still the roughest form of spiritud 
prayer has for its basis the hypothesis of beneficent bdngs, 
visible or invisible. The sensdess stories or myths about 
the gods are soon felt to be at variance with this hypothesis. 
As an example we may take the instance of Qing, the 
Bushman hunter. Qing, when first he met white men, was 
asked about his reh'gion. He began to explain, and mentioned 
Cagn. Mr Orpen, the chief magistrate of St John's Terri- 
tory, asked : " Is Cagn good or malidous? how do you pray 
to him?" Answer (in a low imploring tone): " 'O Cagn I 
O Cagn! are we not your children? do you not see our hun- 
ger? give us food;' and he gives us both hands full " {Cape 
Monthly Maga»ne, July 1874). Here we see the religious 



view of Cagn, the Bushman god. But in the myihobgicai 
account of Cagn given by (jing he appears as a kind of grass- 
hopper, supematurally endowed, the hero of a most absurd 
cyde of sensdess adventures. Even religion is affected by these 
irrational notions, and the gods of savages and of many dviUzed 
peoples are worshipped with crud, obscene, and irrational 
rites. But, on the whole, the rdigbus sentiment strives to 
transcend the mythical conceptions of the gods, and is shocked 
and puzzled by the mythical narratives. As soon as this sense 
of perplexity is fdt by poets, by priests, or by most men in an 
age of nascent criticism, explanations of what is most crude and 
absurd in the myths are put forward. Men ask themsdves 
why thdr gods are worshipped in the form of beasts, birds, and 
fishes; why thdr gods are said to have prosecuted thdr amours 
in bestial shapes; why they are represented as lustful and passion- 
ate—thieves, robbers, murderers and adulterers. The answers 
to these questions sometimes become myths themsdves. Thus 
both the Mangaians and the Egyptians have been puzded by 
thdr own gods in the form of beasts. The Egyptians invented an 
explanation — itself a myth — that in some moment of danger 
the gods concealed themsdves from thdr foes in the shapes 
of animals.' The Mangaians, according to W. W. Gill, hold 
that " the heavenly family had taken up their alxxle in these 
birds, fishes, and reptiles."* 

A people so curious and refined as the Greeks ^ere certain 
to be greatly perplexed by even such comparativdy pure 
m3rthical narratives as they found in Homer, still more by 
the coarser legends of Hesiod, and above all by the andent 
local myths preserved by local priesthoods. Thus, in the 6th 
century bdore Christ, Xenophanes of Colophon severely blamed 
the poets for thdr imbecoming legends, and boldly called certain 
myths " the fables of men of old."* Theagenes of Rhegium 
(530 B.C.?), according to the scholiast on Iliad, xx. 67,* was the 
author of a very andent system of mythology. Admitting 
that the fable of the battle of the gods was " unbecoming," if 
literally understood, Theagenes represented it as an allegorical 
account of the war of the dements. Apollo, Helios, and 
Hephaestus were fire, Hera was air, Posddon was water, Artemis 
was the moon, koI rd Xocird 6/idcM. Or, by another system, the 
names of the gods represented moral and intdlectual qualities. 
Heraditus, too, disposed of the myth of the bondage of Her^ 
as allegorical philosophy. Socrates, in the Cralytits of Plato, 
expounds " a philosophy which came to him all m an instant," 
an explanation of the divine bdngs based on crude philologiaU 
analyses of their names. Metrodorus, rivalling some recent 
flights of conjecture, resolved not only the gods but even heroes 
like Agamemnon, Hector and Achilles " into elemental combina- 
tions and physical agencies."* Euripides makes Penthcus 
(but he was notoriously impious) advance a " rationalistic " 
theory of the stoiy that Dionysus was stitched up in the thigh 
of Zeus. 

When Christianity became powerful the heathen philosophen 
evaded its satire by making more and more use of the allegorical 
and non-natural system of explanation. That method has 
two faults. First (as Amobius and Eusebius reminded thdr 
heathen opponents), the allegorical explanations are purdy 
arbitrary, depend upon the fancy of their author, and are 
all equally plausible and equally unsupported by evidence.* 
Secondly, there is no proof at all that, in the distant age when 
the myths were developed, men entertained the moral notions 
and physical philosophies which are supposed to be " wrapped 
up, " as Cicero says, " in impious fables." Another system of 
explanation is that assodated with the name of Euemerus 
(516 B.C.). According to this author, the myths are history 
in disguise. All the gods were once men, whose real feats have 
been decorated and distorted by later fancy. This view suited 
Lactantius, St Augustine and other early Christian writers 

« Plutarch. De hide et Osiride. 

• Mylks and Songs from Ike South Pacific, p. 35 (1876). 

• Xenoph. Fr. I 42. « Dindorfs cd.. iv. 231, 

• Grotc, Hist, of Greece, (ed. 1869) i. 404. 

^ • Cf. Lobcck. Aglaophamus, i. 151-153, on allegorical interpreta- 
tiOD of myths in the mysteries. 



MYTHOLCXSY 



129 



ray wtSL Tbey were pleiacd to beUeve Uiat Eaemenis " by 
liistofical Kseardi bad ascerUined tbat tbe gods were once but 
moctal men." Precisely tbe same convenient line was taken 
by Sahagnn in bis account of Mexican religious myibs. As 
tbere can be no doubt tbat tbe i^wsts of dead men bave been 
vocifajpiMd in many lands, and as tbe gods of many f aitbs are 
triced cot witb attributes derived from ancestor-woiahip, 
tbe qrstem of Euemerus retains some measure of plauubHity. 
Wbik we need not believe witb Euemerus and witb Herbert 
Spen c er tbat tbe god of. Greece or tbe god of the Hottentots 
was cace a man, we cannot deny tbat the myths of both these 
gods bave passed through and been coloured by tbe imaginations 
of Ben who practised the worship of real ancestors. For 
example, tbe Cretans showed the tomb of Zeus, and the Pbodans 
(Panamas z. 5) daily poured blood of victims into tbe tomb 
of a bero, obviou^y by way of feeding his ghost. The 
Hottentots show many tombs ci their god, Tsui-Goab, and tell 
tales about bis death; they also pray regularly for aid at the 
tombs of their own parents.* We may therefore say that, 
vhile it is rather absurd to believe that Zeus and Tsui-Goab 
were once real men, yet. their myths are such as would be 
developed by people accustomed, among other forms of religion, 
to tbe worship ol dead men. Very probably portions of the 
legends of real men have been attracted into the mythic accounts 
of gods of another character, and this is the element of truth 
at the bottom <rf Euemerism. 

Laier Bxplanatums of Mythology. — ^The ancient systems of 
fTp'***"ng what needed explanation in myths were, then, 
physicaly ethical, religious and historical. One student, like 
Tbeageocs, would see a physical philoaophy underlying Homeric 
legeada. Another, like Porphyry, would imagine that the 
"■^aiM^C was partly moral, partly ci a dark theosophic .and 
idigKKis character. Another would detect moral allegory 
alone, and Aristotle expresses the opinion that tbe myths were 
tbe inventions of legislaton *' to persuade tbe many, and to 
be used in support of law " {Ma. xL 8, 19). A fourth, like 
Eaemcnia, would get rid of the supernatural element altogether, 
and find only an imaginative rendering of actual history. When 
rhriiTfant approached tbe problem of heathen mythology, 
tbey sometimes held, with St Augustine, a form of the doctrine 
of Eaemenis.* In other words, they regarded Zeus, Aphrodite 
and tbe rest as real persons, diabolical not divine. Some later 
pbiiosophezs, especially of the lytb century, misled by the rcsem- 
Uanoe between Bibliad narratives and ancient myths, came to 
the cooduaioa tbat tbe Bible contains a pure, the myths a 
di^mtcd, form of an original revelation. The ahb€ Banier 
pubihdied a mythological compilation in which be systematically 
resolved all the Greek msrths into ordinary history.' Bryant 
pubUsbcd (1774) A New System^ or an Analysis of Ancient 
MyAdogjtWkerein an Attempt is made to divest Tradition of Fabkf 
in whidi be talked very learnedly of " that wonderful people, the 
^mmt-mnA^ntm, of Cush," aud saw everywhere symbols of the ark 
and traces of tbe Noachian deluge. Thomas Taylor, at the end 
of the x8th century, indulged in much mystical allegorizing 
of myths, as in tbe notes to his translation of Pausanias (1794). 
At an eailicr date (1760) De Brosses struck on the true line of 
iateipretalion in hb little work Du Culte des dieux fitiches, 
cm pardIHe de Fancienne religion de r£gypte avec la religion 
setmeBe de NignHe. In this tract De Brosses explained tbe 
aaimal-wmBhip of the Egyptians as a survival among a 
dvUcsed people of ideas and practices springing from the 
iatc&ectnal condition of savages, and actuaUy existing among 
negroes. A vast S3rmbolical explanation of myths and mysteries 
was attempted by Friedrich Creuzer.* The learning and sound 
sense of Lobeck, in his Aghophamus, exploded the idea that the 
Eleasniao and other mysteries revealed or concealed matter 
of anmentous reiigioos importance. It ought not to be forgotten 

 Haho, Tsimi'Cottm, the Supreme Being of the Khoi-Khoi, p. 113. 

>l3^e*.dM.,vii. i8:visL2^ 

>£« MyOKinie el la fcJbUs expUqities par Vhistoire (Paris. 1738: 

)VQli.4«D). 

* SymhdH wad MythOogfe der alien Vdlher (Leipzig and Darm- 
' i836-i843)> 



that Lafitan, a Jesuit missionary in North America, while 
inclined to take a mystical view of the secrets concealed 
by Iroquois myths, haid also pointed out the savage element 
surviving in Greek mythology.' 

Recent Mythological Systems.— Vp to a very recent date 
students of mythology were hampered by orthodox traditions, 
and still more by ignorance of the andent languages and of 
the natural history of num. Only recently have Sanskrit and 
the Egyptian and Babylonian languages become books not 
absolutely sealed. Again, tbe study of the evolution of human 
institutions from the lowest savagery to civilization is essentially 
a novel branch of research, though ideas derived from an 
unsystematic study of anthropology are at least as old as 
Aristotle. The new theories of mythology are based on the 
belief that "it is man, it is human thought and human 
language combined, wliicb naturally and necessarily pro- 
duced the strange conglomerate of andent fable."* But, while 
there is now universal agreement so far, modem mythologists 
differed essentially on one point. There was a school (with 
internal divisions) which regarded andent fable as almost 
entirely " a disease of language," that is, as the result of con- 
fusions arising from misunderstood terms that have survived in 
speech after their original significance was lost. Another school 
(also somewhat divided against itsdf) believes that misunder- 
stood language played but a veiy sJight part in the evolu- 
tion of mytlu>logy, and that the irrational clement in myths 
is merely the survival from a condition of thought which was 
once common, if not universal, but is now found chiefly among 
savages, and to a certain extent among children. The former 
school considered that the ^tate of thought out of which myths 
were developed was produced by decaying language; the latter 
maintains that the corresponding phenomena of language were 
the reflection of thought. For the sake of brevity we might 
call the former the " philological " system, as it rests chiefly 
on the study of language, while the latter might be styled the 
" historical " or " anthropological " school, as it is based on 
the study of man in the sum of his manners, ideas and insti- 
tutions. 

The System of Max MuUer. — ^The most distinguished and popular 
advocate <tf the philological school was Max MQller, whose views 
mav be found in his Selected Essays and Lectures on Language. The 
problem was to explain what he calls " the silly, savage and senseless 
element " in mythology (Sel. Ess. i. 578). Max Mtlller says (speaking 
of the Greeks), " thdr poets had an instinctive aversion to every- 
thing excessive or monstrous, yet they would relate of their gods 
what would make the most savage of Red Indians creep and 
shudder " — stories, that is, of the cannibalism of Demeter. of the 
mutilation of Uranus, the cannibalism of Cronus, who swallowed 
his own children, and the like. " Among the lowest tribes of Africa 
and America we hardly .find anything more hideous and revolting." 

Max MQller refers the beginning 'of his system of mythology to 
the discovery of the connexion of the Indo-European or. as they 
are called, " Aryan " languages. Celts, Germans, speakers m 
Sanskrit and Zend, Latins and Greeks, all prove by their languages 
that their tongues may be traced to one family of speech. The' 
comparison of the various words which, in different forms, are com- 
mon to all Indo-European languages must inevitably throw much 
light on the original meaning of these words. Take, for example, 
the name of a god, Zeus, or Athene, or any other. The word may 
have no intelligible meaning in Greek, but its counterpart in the 
allied tongues, especially in ^nskrit or 2tend, may reveal the original 
significance of the terms. '* To understand the origin and meaning 
ofthe names of the Greek gods, and to enter into the original intention 
of Ike fables told of each, we must take into account the collateral 
evidence supplied by Latin, German, Sanskrit and Zend philology " 
{Lett, on Lang., ana series, p. 406). A name may be intelligible in 
Sanskrit which has no sense in Greek. Thus Athene is a divine name 
without meaning in Greek, but Max MQller advances reasons for 
supposing that it is identical with akana, " the dawn," in Sanskrit. 
It is his opinion, apparently, that whatever story is told of Athene 
must have originally been told of the dawn, and that we must keep 
this before us in attempting to understand the legends of Athene. 
Thus a^in {op. cit. p. a 10), he says, " we have a right to explain 
all that IS told of him (Agni, " fire ") *' as originally meant for fire." 
The system is simply this: the original meaning of the names of gods 
must be ascertained by comparative philology. The names, as a 
rule, will be found to denote elemental phenomena. And the silly. 

' Mcntrs des sauvages (Paris, 1734). 

* Max Mttllcr. Lectures on Language (1864), 2nd scries, p. 41a 



130 



MYTHOLOGY 



nvage and teoielcM dements in the les^nds of the jgodt will be •hown 
to have a natural Mgnificance. as deacnptiont of tky . storms, sunset, 
water, fire, dawn, twilight, the life of earth, and other celestial ana 
terrestrial existences. Stated in the iMuest form, these results do 
not differ greatly from the conclusions of Theagenes of Rhcgium, 
who held uiat '^Hephaestus was fire, Hera was air, Poseidon was 
water, Artemis was the moon, tal rl AmvA iitUut." But Max Mailer's 
system is based on scientific philology, not on conjecture, and is 
suppovted by a theory of the various processes in the evolution of 
myths out oi language. 

It is no longer necessary to give an elaborate analysis of this theory, 
because neither in its philological nor mythological side has it any 
advocates who need be reckoned with. The attempt to disengai^e 
the history of times forgotten and unknown, by means of analysts 
of roots and words in Aryan languages, has been unsuccessful, or 
has at best produced disputable results. Max MQller's system was a 
result of the philological theories that indicatedthe linguistic unity 
of the Indo-turopean or " Aryan " peoples^ and was founded on an 
analysis of their language. But myths precisely similar in irrational 
and repulsive character, even in minute details, to those of the 
Aryan races, exist among Australians, South Sea Islanders, Eskimo, 
Bushmen in Africa, among Solomon Islanders, Iroquois, and so 
forth. The facts being identical, an identical explanation should 
be sought, and, as the languages in which the myths exist are essen- 
tially different, an' explanation founded on the Aryan language is 
likely to prove too narrow. Once more, even if we discover the 
original meaning of a god's name, it does not follow that we can 
explain by aid cm the stgnificance of the name the myths about the 
god. For nothing is more common than the attraction of a more 
ancient story into the legend of a later god or hero. Myths of un- 
known antiquity, for example, have been attracted into the legend 
of Charlemagne, just as the tons mois of old wits are transferred 
to living humorists. Therefore, though we may ascertain that Zeus 
means "sky " and Agni " fire, we cannot assert, with Max MQller, 
that all the myths about Agni and Zeus were originally told of 
fire amd dcy. When these gods became popular they would inevit- 
ably inhent any current exploits of earficr heroes or gods. These 
exploits would therefore be explained erroneously if regarded as 
originally myths of sky or fire. We cannot convert Max MQller's 
proposition " there was nothing told of the sky that could not in 
some form or other be ascribed to Zeus" into ' there was nothing 
ascribed to Zeus that had not at some timeor other been told of the 
sky." This is also, perhaps, the proper place to observe that names 
derived from natural phenomena--sky, clouds, dawn and sun — 
are habitually assigned by Brazilians, Ojibways.' Australians and 
other savages to living men and women. Thus the story originally 
told of a man or woman bearing the name " sun," " dawn," " cloud.'' 
may be mixed up later with myths about the real celestial dawn, 
cloud or sun. For all these reasons the infornution